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Hi guys, I've been writing for Jared Leto's Joker since The Suicide Squad came out (Joker x Reader fanfi...
It's getting harder and harder to breathe. All the weight on top of you crushes your body, constricting you more each time you are trying to move. What a way to end it all ... At least you're not alone.
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It's getting harder and harder to breathe. All the weight on top of you crushes your body, constricting you more each time you are trying to move. There is a little bit of light coming through the cracks of the collapsed walls all around. And dust...so much dust you can almost taste it each time you inhale.
The Joker is right by you; it's not hard to distinguish his shape. You've been trying to free your left arm for the last 30 minutes and he didn't move at all. He's probably dead; lucky him. You're still hanging on, barely conscious. Was he trying to protect you or use you as a shield? Knowing him, probably the latest. It is your job to make sure nothing happens to the Clown Prince of Crime so you can't really hold it against him.
After all the struggle, you finally free your hand and reach for him. You touch his cheek and it feels so cold. Is it him or you that's cold? At this point it really doesn't matter anymore. You're in so much pain you almost don't notice anything around. Shit... what a way to end it all... The numbness makes you aware you probably don't have much time left. You move your hand again so you can find his. It seems like forever, but you finally find it under the rubble. You squeeze it as hard as you can, wishing it would comfort you. It doesn't.
You sigh, pulling his lifeless hand closer towards your body so you can hold it better. It's so slippery, probably blood. His or yours? No doubt both.
At least you're not alone.
**************************
**** You open the door and see him standing there with that look in his eyes. Oh, how you know those eyes and what it means. You slam the door in his face and lock it. Why is he here now?! The Joker grumbles, pissed you have the nerve to do such a thing; he really wants to shoot the lock but doesn't have the silencer with him and it might attract unwanted attention in your fancy neighborhood. So he knocks again, louder this time.
"Open up, Y/N, don't make me repeat myself!"
You sit still on the other side of the door, waiting for him to do something insane. J starts kicking the wood with the tip of his shoe:
"If you don't open this damn door in 5 seconds, you'll be sorry!"
He hears the lock clicking and rushes inside, watching you slowly stepping away from him.
"Are you deaf ?! You know I don't like to play games! If I ask you to do something, you Goddamn do it!" he shouts, approaching you with a menacing look on his face.
Enough of this nonsense, you tell yourself as he grabs and forcefully pushes you against the wall, lifting your dress up, impatient. You don't struggle or attempt to flee, trying to remain calm:
