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For days after you were rescued from Arkham, Mister J would not let you out of his sight for a second, and you wouldn't dream of leaving it. You sat with him, you still in your white Arkham issue tank top and shorts, him in a tuxedo which was now thoroughly debouched.
He had carried you over the hearth of your bedroom the way a husband carries his new bride to their wedding bed. He laid you down amid at the centre of your desecrated room. Like the centrepiece of some magnificent work of art, you lay among his assembled chaos, and Mister J memorised every inch of your skin with your tongue.
"I'd forgotten thissss..." He hissed against the taught golden flesh of your stomach. His lips were curved up into a grin, his eyes gleaming as he mouthed at your naval and you giggled, squirming under his grasp.
"Daddy, that tickles!"
"Your honey sweet flesh..." Mister J continued, smoothing his palm down over the grooves of your ribs as you bowed your back prettily beneath him like a cat,
"I can't tell ya how much I want to map out every inch of your skin with my lips..." His words turned into a hum, hot and ardent against your ear as he draped his body atop yours. He captured your mouth against his like he owned it and oh God he certainly did. The hot wet pressure of his tongue against yours was your making your mind swirl; It was as though every second you had been apart from him, he now breathed back into you like the kiss of life. Against your lips, his kiss turned into a snarl, and he bit at your lips then your neck. You cried out beneath him as he attacked your neck the way a predator devours it's feast. By the time he puled away with a wet pop and a growl, your neck was a work of art painted in reds and purples.
With Mister J's hand on each side of your ribcage, his lips left a trail of red lipstick down the valley of your breasts, down, down, until he reached the waistband of your shorts which he twanged against your skin causing you to yelp excitedly as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him.
Mister J loved your nativity. It fuelled the fire in his loins more than anything else. Your childish excitement never ceased to ignite something deep within him that he couldn't place. The sound that Joker made as he slid your shorts down the golden expanse of those gorgeous long legs of yours he loved so much, was low in the back of his throat. Somewhere between a growl and a hum, he watched with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes and a salacious grin upon his lips as you daintily kicked the item off clothing aside and drew your knees up, thighs pressed firmly shut.
A flash of silver caught the dim lighting of the room as your shirt was next to go: Split straight down the middle with his bare knuckles, then thrown aside like a scrap of useless fabric as your glorious breasts were finally freed to his view.
"Oh..." Mister J purred, shaking his head slowly. "Oh, how I have missed these pretty, pretty tits of yours." He hummed wickedly, bringing to hands to cup the warm globes of flesh in his hands with an shuddering exhale as his eyes fluttered shut.
You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth as you watched Mister J take his time in admiring you. His fingers traced softly around your areolas, bringing the flesh to a puckered surface before rolling your nipples between his fingers until they peaked into rosy little buds. His eyes were hooded as he dropped his head forward to drag his tongue over your left nipple and then circle your areola with just the tip of his hot wet muscle.
You watched him. Eyes wide, lips parted, and he WATCHED you watching him with a wicked grin. You could feel the silver of his teeth against your warm flesh as he alternated between lapping at your sensitive buds on one breast, and kneading the other in his palm. Mister J found it utterly intoxicating to watch as your eyes fluttered shut with a soft breathy: 'Oh!' Your arm cradled his head to your breast, and your back arched when his teeth bit down on the hardened nub. He left your breasts swollen, red from his lipstick, and glistening with his saliva. The red smudge of his lips trailed down your stomach, down your naval, and down your thighs which you kept firmly closed, giggling.
"Spread your legs for Daddy, Duchesss." Joker grinned darkly, fingers dancing over your knees as you just giggled happily and shook your head.
"No?" He pouted, bottom lip jutting out in a mocking show of disappointment. "Duchess doesn't wanna play faaair tonight?" His finger snaked between your knees, which you clamped shut playfully, grinning up at him as you bit your lower lip. All it took was a sharp bite to your left thigh for you to comply with his wishes. His silver teeth left a red blur on your golden skin which tingled as Mister J's fingers clasped around your knees, grinning from ear to ear as he took his time in slowly spreading your legs open.
"Lemme see that treasuuuure, Duchess." He hissed, eyes flashing as he knelt before you. "Show me what I've come to colleect." His words rolled off his tongue in a low hum, and you pressed your lips together with a soft giggle before you finally conceded and opened up for him.
Mister J took in the sight before him the way people admire works of art. A gasp turned into a shuddering growl, soft but low at the back of his throat as he descended between your thighs. He took his time of course. He inhaled the scent of you, mouthing at your knees and leaving a littery of purple and red hickies in his wake like a treasure trail leading towards your core. With every sharp dig of his teeth into your supple skin you'd shriek in delight, and Mister J used his hands to keep you pinned to the ground by your hips so that you couldn't squirm out of his grip as he got closer and closer to your entrance.
"Hmmm... You don't knooow..." Mister J hummed erotically from between your legs. "How much I have looonged for this, Duchess. Your sweet cunt trembling under my touch again... It's been drivin' me craazy." His words turned to laughter, and you could feel his breath just inches from your centre.
"Please Daddy..." You breathed, fingers twitching against the ground as you tried your best to keep your arms planted firmly at your sides until Mister J said you could move them. He sat up on his knees again, grinning down at you predatorily.
"Please Daddy! Please Daddy!" He mocked your high pitched beg, putting on a show of mimicking your babyish pout and the sweet batting of your eyelashes.
You snickered at his actions.
"'Please Daddy' what, Duchess?" He asked darkly, pressing into the bruise he had made earlier on your thigh as he coaxed your answer from those pretty lips of yours.
"Please lick my pussy, Daddy?" You asked hopefully. Your voice was soft as you looked up at Mister J coquettishly, biting innocently on your index finger as your mouth wrapped around the filthy sentence you knew he wanted to hear. There was nothing more utterly sexy to him that hearing his pretty little Duchess begging for such wicked things. The only warning you received was the snarl which left Mister J's lips as he threw your leg over his shoulder and dived forward to lap at your slick centre.
Joker spread you open roughly with both hands, and didn't give you the option of easing into it slowly. Oh no. He pressed down on your clit with two fingers as his tongue probed at your entrance. Your entire body convulsed like you'd been hit with lightning, and the gasp you let out was like you'd just had a bucket of ice cold water tipped over your body.
Everything from your waist down became white noise. Your only focus was the utter magic that Mister J worked on you with his tongue. It was a maddening thing to hear him mumbling filthy words of praise against your glistening thighs as he lapped at your throbbing clit with an obscenely wet noise that had you panting above him. Your fingers flew to his vibrant green hair, holding him in place like you needed him for dear life:
"Daddy please don't stop! Please I've been so good! Please, please, please!"
Chuckling lowly, Mister J worked you open with his tongue until your juices were dripping down his chin.
The sight was utterly erotic, and you found yourself drawing back and propping yourself up on your elbows. You wanted to watch him. For so long these visions had been but fleeting dreams stifled in the confines of your separation, and now that they were finally real: White-hot in their pleasure and dizzying in their reality - you wanted to watch every inch of it to make up for what your dreams and imagination could not for oh so long.
He didn't even need to use his fingers. Your first orgasm of the night, you rode out on his tongue alone, your back arched like a bow as your knuckles went white in his hair. You thrashed beneath him like a wild animal, and Joker had to pin you down with both hands as you sobbed your way through your blissful aftershocks.
"Hope you're not tired, Duchess." Joker chuckled, appearing slowly from between your legs as he salaciously wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His chins was glistening with your release, and he sucked the sweetness of it form his finger with a wicked grin, "I plan on making up for lost tiiime, you see."
And make up for it he did. The two of you fucked all night like animals. Hard and fast, then achingly slow. He milked one, two, three amazing orgasms from you right there on the floor; you on your back, legs spread as wide for him as you possibly could. Mister J didn't give you time to recover. Grinning manically, he simply hauled you up onto your hands and knees and draped his body over yours. His fingers left bruises on your hips that added to your neck and legs which were already smattered with hickies. After so long with you ripped from his hands, he wanted the whole goddamn world to know who you belonged to. That night, he wanted you to scream it to them at the top of your lungs.
"Say it Duchess!" He snarled against the back of your neck. "Let them know. Let this whole fuckin' city know who you belong to! I want you t'scream for me!"
"Daddy!" You sobbed.
"Uh-uh-uh, Duchess! Not tonight. I want you to say my name. Scream it so loud that the Bat hears you in his cave."
His hips were snapping against yours at a punishing pace, sending you jolting forward with every rough collision of your hips. Joker's hands gripping your hips were the only thing stopped you from going face-first into the floor. The weight of his body against yours as he fucked you from behind was utterly animalistic and when his fingers snaked between your swollen folds to rub wetly against your throbbing clitoris you screamed so loud that your own ears rang with the sheer volume of it.
"O-O-H GOD- JESUS- JOKER!"
It was a strangled half-scream half sob, and as your knees caved from the quaking aftershocks of your orgasm Mister J simply rolled you into the next position he wanted you in: On your side so you could watch over your shoulder through hooded eyes as he drew his hips back and sunk into your already aching cunt once more. His hand came down on your ass with a crack, and you cried out with a breathy shriek that made his cock twitch deep inside you. Mister J admired the mark his hand had made on your ass and grinned maliciously as he snapped his hips roughly into your still quivering canal.
"Oh-ho-ho! You shall be a work of art tomorrow my dear!" He cackled. That night, every bruise he left on you would simply spur him on further. You were finally his again. His to mar. His to adore. And he intended to make it known to anyone who set their eyes upon you that you were his Queen.
"Oh God, Daddy!" You wailed. "Fuck me! Please pretty please please please, Daddy!" Your voice was an incoherent almost drunken mumble, and witnessing the state of utter weakness he had brought you too was like Viagra to him.
"I am fucking you Duchess..." Joker hissed, grinning as he braced his arms on either side of your writhing body and gave a particular vicious thrust to emphasise his point. "Fucking your tight little cunt."
Joker's fingers entwined around your throat and your already spent voice wheezed as slowly Mister J squeezed down on your windpipe. Stars prickled in your vision and you LAUGHED in utter bliss. For months you had only dreamed of this. In tearing you apart, Gotham city had hoped to weaken you both. Everyone knew that a King without his Queen could not hope to hold his crown, but oh how little they knew. Like a plague, it only made the two of you ten times stronger, and now that you were finally reunited it was like a tornado meeting a volcano.
"Then let me feel it puddin'!" You heard yourself giggle, voice stifled around the clamp of Mister J's fingers.
Mister J grinned at you like you had offered him the Bat's head on a silver plate; He fisted his hand your sweat-soaked hair and pounded you open until you were a wailing mess, clawing at his back hard enough to draw blood. Your orgasm tore through you from your head to your toes. Every nerve in your body was oversensitive, and your juices soaked the floor beneath you and made Mister J's thighs sticky with your release. In all his life, he had never seen something more beautiful. Your body was spent, and your poor oversensitive cunt squeezed his cock for dear life.
"Fuck! Y/N! Duchess! So tight! Fuck! Yes!" He snarled, and with one final snap of his hips his eyes rolled right back into his head his mouth dropped open. Pump after pump of sticky hot release flooded your canal and the two of you collapsed side by side; a tangle of limbs and maniacal laughter.
For a while, you just lay there. Chests heaving, pupils blown wide, Joker pulled you over onto his chest and felt your heart beating against his. You buried your head in his shoulder, knees curling up as his arms cradled your spent body to his.
"Love you Daddy." You whispered, softly pressing your swollen lips to the 'J' etched onto his cheekbone. His skin tastes like salt, and the tenderness of your kiss makes his head loll back with a heavy thud against the floor.
"Hmmmm. And I love you, Duchess." He replied, fingers tracing the mar of bruises he had made on your neck as you nestled yourself into his chest the way a kitten curled up for a nap.
This moment, right now, you wished you could collect up in a pretty bottle to keep forever. This moment where you were his.
His, his, his.
You adored your Mister J right down to your bones. With every inch of your soul. If the Doctors were to cut you open, they'd find his name tattooed on your beating heart, and at the forefront of your deranged mind.
When your energy had returned to you, you sat up, straddling Mister J's naked lap and tracing the hypnotic black ink of his tattoos with your finger; almost in a trance until you rolled off his hips with the elegance of a ballerina. You sat opposite him, and giggled around your fingers as Mister J sat up also, drinking in the sight of your naked body openly as his signature grin eerily made it's way back across his features. Smiling prettily, you cupped his jaw in your hand and your fingers twirled in the air above you as you spread your hand in a crescent shape above his head. Up, round, and over in the space above his head.
"I can see your aura..." You whispered, biting your lower lip.
"My clever girl..." Mister J rasped, watching you with dark half-lidded eyes as you tilted his chin up in your hand. "What do you... see in me, my gem?" He hummed, his lips parted as he drew the words out on his tongue.
"I see..." You whispered, head tilted. "Your power. It's white. Bright white. Like glass when ya heat it up, or when a bullet goes through solid metal. Nobody can touch it."
His red lips curled into a smile and he nodded slowly in your grip.
"What elseee do you see?"
"Your heart."
Joker's smile became crooked, curling up impishly into a toothy smirk.
"You can seeeee my heart?" He echoed, eyes glittering.
You giggled and nodded, all pretty teeth and bobbing curls.
"How'd you know I have one, Duchessss?" He questioned, grinning as he brought his hand down to run his thumb over the seam of your lips.
You leaned in close, and he mirrored you. You brought your hand down in a circular motion from above his head, sweeping through the eerie white mist of his aura and tapping your fingers beneath his chin. Your index finger snuck up to his mouth, past his lips, and ran along his silver-cased teeth the way children run branches across a railing. You giggled at the sensation of his mouth, wet and hot beneath your fingertips and Mister J only grinned wider. His tongue lapped at the pads of your fingers as your eyes - The picture of childhood innocence - met his. You leaned in closer, and giggled like you were going to tell him the greatest secret in all the world.
"Because I can sense it." You whispered, drawing your bottom lip in between your teeth as you grinned like a little girl who knew something he didn't.
"Even when you were away from me, I sensed it." You added removing your damp fingers from his mouth, and sliding them down his tattooed chest to the place over his ribcage where his heartbeat thumped against your fingertips. Mister J's body swayed ever so slightly from side to side, eyes completely focused on yours. His smile made them twinkle in the dim light of the room, like an Angel fallen from God. They pulled you in close, and kept you there, raptured, as he dropped his head forward to clasp his cold fingers around your wrist and bring your palm to his lips. He kissed your knuckles, and then trailed his lips down each of your fingers. There was a flicker in his eyes. A flicker which drew you in like a moth to the flame: A twinkle of danger. A hidden spark of the unknown. As though at even such an intimate action, he could tear one of your fingers clean off with his bare teeth and still smile at you like you were the prettiest prettiest girl in all the world.
"So thoughtful." He whispered lowly against your fingers, eyes boring into yours like a vice.
"Did you sense it Daddy?" You asked softly, voice high and full of hope.
"In every inch of me." Came his shuddering reply. His finger knotted with yours for a moment and then jerked away as he traced the pads of his fingers along the rivers of his veins, along his arms, up the arteries of his neck.
"You know you're in my veins, don't'cha Duchess?" Mister J asked, wide-eyed and deadly serious as his fingers halted at the base of his neck. His voice was low. A soft but eternally dangerous whisper. Your fingers followed his in a line right up to the pulse point on his neck, and you swallowed thickly.
"With every beat of my caaaavernous heart, your absence winded me like falling on a metal staircase and feeling one of the steps hit you right in the back." His hand was over his heart now, and your palm enclosed over his, eyes scanning his face as Mister J's laughter provided the soundtrack to a sudden overwhelming wooziness that passed through your body as though you had stood up too quickly.
"What did it feel like?" You whispered softly leaning forward, wide-eyed, curious, and pallored as you hung off his every word.
"What did it feel like?" He echoed, eyelids flaring.
Mister J moved the way a viper went in for the kill. Suddenly, precisely, and all at once - as though he had planned his every move beforehand. He seized you by the shoulders, turned you around, and brought you into his grasp the way a python constricts it's prey. Your back pressed to his chest, one of his hands reached out blindly for a knife from the swirling pattern of weaponry he had made around you, and held it to your neck in seconds. The cool metal made you gasp and squirm somewhat, but Mister J held you still by the neck.
"It felt like an itch far, far beneath my skin, Duchessss, that I was doomed never to reachhh... A crawling, festering, mould which infected my blood like a sickness..." The way he spoke was blood curdling, so low and soft that at any moment he could burst into a fit of rage and you would not be surprised.
Your toes curled and your grin only widened as Mister J slowly dragged his blade across the skin of your neck. It was deep enough to draw a steady trickle of blood, but not large enough to cause a pain you couldn't take. In the burn of his metal on your skin, you suddenly felt the same burn that Mister J had deep below his skin when he'd had you torn from his grip. You felt the slow ebb of blood snake down your neck and trickle down the valley of your breasts as Mister J lapped at the small wound he had made with his tongue.
Eyes fluttering in giddy pleasure, you brought your hand up. Up to to handle of the knife in his grasp. You turned, gazing up at Mister J with utter joy. His grin mirrored yours. A perfect pair. A King and his Queen. Your other hand braced on his thigh as you turned in his hold so that you could chase the metallic tang of your own blood on his lips. The taste stuck to the backs of your teeth, and his tongue cleaned it away as you kissed open-mouthed and filthy; completely unabashed. Your hand was enclosed over his on the knife's handle, and when you pulled away you giggled against Mister J's lips excitedly.
"What is it, my pretty?" He grinned up at you, hopeful and all at once manic.
"Play with me!" You giggled. "Let's play a game!"
Oh, how he had missed those words. Seizing you by the back of the neck, he brought your lips crashing down onto his again until they were swollen and glistening with his saliva. Your hand squeezed his as you both clutched the knife's handle. There was a rusted red stain on it's underside from where it had dragged down your neck just moments earlier, and you licked it clean with one slow swipe of your tongue. Joker watched you, entranced. The way people watch a music box figurine; wide-eyed and joyous.
"Gimmie your hand." You giggled, pressing your lips together excitedly as you slid your hand slowly up from the knife's handle to the blade itself. Mister J brought his tattooed hand up to yours slowly, and your fingers spread. You laced them with Mister J's the way a couple would when they held hands but with the blade of a knife separating your two palms from touching.
"We both squeeze each other's hand for as long as we can... And whoever pulls away first is a big old scaredy pants!" You declared, enclosing your clasped hands around the knife's blade.
Joker's eyes widened in excitement. Oh how he had missed you. He had nearly forgotten the joy his pretty Duchess brought him. The first drops of blood spattering his bare thighs like a Jackson Pollock painting as your clasped hands slowly began to squeeze the sharp metal between them, reminded him in an instant. Your mouth instantly dropped open as the sharp metal began to cut it's way through your skin like a red hot poker. Your first instinct was to jerk away, but Mister J's cackling spurred you on as he simply squeezed harder, your blood mixing together and splashing over your legs as he brought his lips slamming down onto yours. He kissed you deeply, salaciously, and still laughing. That laughter prompted the most breathless happiness in you that the pain of the knife and the blood became second place to the wirlwind of emotions he could provoke in you.
Daddy still won the game, of course.
When the knife dropped to the bloodied floor with a clatter, the wooziness hit you suddenly like a kick to the chest. That was your daddy for you. He always did know how to consume you like the sweetest of drugs. Bonelessly you fell forward, and he caught you with both arms looped beneath your ribcage. Your dripping red-soaked palms he brought together, with their matching grooves which oozed steadily with blood and fitted together like a puzzle piece. He threw his head back and laughed, and the sound of your giggles mixing with his once more was like a melody to him; like remembering the words to a song you once loved. He hoped they did hear you in the city below. May the sound of your combined madness be their warning of your unity once more, your bloodied bodies entwined like the beginning of a new chapter in the story of Gotham's history.