Voyeurism At It's Worst Part 7/?
Title: Voyeurism At It's Worst 7/?
Author: heatherhouse
Rating: PG-13, for now
Characters/Pairings: Joker/Batman, OC
Warnings: Un'bated, Crackfic
Disclaimer: Only Desarai belongs to me, so please don't take her. The boys belongs to DC and Warner Brothers.
Verse: Movieverse
A/N: This is a much longer post and I hope you like the imaginary douche bag. Hope you all enjoy. XD
Summary: I didn't want to see Joker and Batman kissing. It just happened.
“And fuck is who?” Joker asked curiously, canting his head to the side as he slowly made his way to the door.
Bruce and I both had the same idea and my head swam as I was set down on wobbly legs so the vigilante could tackle the Joker to the ground. The scuffle that ensued to keep the lanky and surprisingly spry psychopath down made my door jiggle.
“Dezz, are you okay? Dezzy?!”
I just stared wide eyed at the blur of bodies, giggling and growling as Bruce tried to keep Joker down. And with the way Joker was retaliating...it was about as hard core porn you could get with clothes on and I gave Bruce a gold star for not attacking the Joker’s clothes and take up the offer that limber little blond was obviously presenting with that body language and the, ahem...groans. Hell, I would have folded.
It was about the time I heard. “Dezzy, I’ll get help, hold on!”
That my mind snapped out of happy faghag land and jumped over the two struggling bodies. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s just a few rats.” I said before my mind filtered that for more sane viewing.
“What?” Demanded the voice.
“I..I mean cats. A cat got in, scared the dog...I...” blanked. “I have a dog now?”
Joker somehow got too close to me and snapped at my heels with a loud bark and a grin. I jumped away and glared, resisting the urge to kick him in the face when Bruce finally had him pinned.
The door handle jiggled. “Well let me in I can help.”
“No! It’s fine!” I said through my teeth and pointed at the bedroom so the maniacs would get the message. “I can take care of it myself, hold on a second!” I said loudly.
Turning on the two men sprawled on my floor I hissed. “Get moving, now!”
It took a very impressive move on Bruce’s part to lock up the Joker’s arms, tossing head and kicking feet. And I was not stupid enough to get near any of those limbs at the moment as the mad man treated it like a game, giggling the whole way every time he managed to get some limb loose only for Bruce to snatch it back into a lock again.
It wasn’t until Bruce managed to struggle waltz Joker into the room and slam the door shut that I tried to right myself and realized I hadn’t actually changed or showered since that morning and I looked all of crap in my jogging pants and tank top, blond hair twisted up into a sad birds nest of a bun.
I sighed, par for the course when it came to Elliot Michaels being involved.
At least I looked the part of going three rounds with a pair of feuding animals when I opened the door and glared at the beautiful, make Dr. Shepard turn in his hunk badge, Elliot Michaels. I used to really love my paper cut out of an attractive doctor. Now I just stared at him in envy like that three thousand dollar dress in the Sax window that you made the mistake of trying on and found fit you perfectly, unlike the size of your bank account.
Elliot was that same dress on loan to you, complete with a three man guard that made sure you didn’t damage it and then take it away right after you got used to wearing it. Except that Elliot took himself away, without warning me he’d left me naked in the process.
“What do you want, Elliot?” I asked, finally feeling the hours I’d been up and overly active.
Elliot just kind of glowed amid all the rot and lack of care in the hallway he stood in. He gave me a sympathetic look. I hated it.
“You look like shit Dezz.” He said gently and sniffed the air with a wrinkle of his nose. “Have you been drinking?”
Funny how with ex’s you didn’t so much want to strangle them then get swallowed up by the wallpaper or hugged and petted by the same person berating you, just so you wouldn’t feel as worthless as they made you feel.
“It’s a free country. Now I’m going to repeat myself. What are you doing here?” I kept the door between the two of us as I looked at him through the small portion I’d opened. The same door I’d held open for Joker.
“I want to talk.” He said quietly.
“Then talk.” I said shortly, I didn’t want him to be nice to me, not like this.
He looked past me to the practically trashed apartment pointedly. “I think it was better we did this inside, Dezz.”
“I wouldn’t want to chance the dog getting out.” I said darkly, eyes narrowed. Oh god, how a part of me so badly wanted to let the ‘dog’ get out with Elliot in the way of his food dish.
But when Elliot stared at me blankly, oblivious that I had two dangerous men hanging out in my bedroom and the threat that presented I just sighed and left the door open for him as I trudged back inside to start the task of cleaning up the liquor bottles and shredded clothing.
I could feel him too close behind me as I switched off the tv.
“Speak.” I snapped.
“I got settled in at the hospital and my paychecks coming in pretty constant now. So I was hoping you’d take some of it and get yourself out of the Narrows, Dezz. You’re starting to blend in with the locals a little too much.” He said critically as his eyes swept up and down my frame unkindly.
It was a simple, common as hell arrangement of words. But it still hit me like a punch to the gut and I spun around fast enough to make myself dizzy before pushing him back with all the force my body had in it. He tripped, startled and fell on his ass. And I was almost disappointed in an empty way that he didn’t spring back to his feet with a laugh or quirk of a brow at me. He just gawked.
“Get out.” I growled, or tried, I was pathetic at intimidating.
But for once I managed it as Elliot scrambled back to his feet and took a step back.
“I just want to help you!” He argued , holding his hand up as if he were staving off a bear instead of his 5’6 ex-girlfriend.
I was fuming and he wasn’t helping. “You mean like how you got the job at the Gotham teaching hospital and didn’t even mention me to the head nurse when I asked you to? And then lied when I put you down as a reference?” I demanded and chucked a pillow at him. It wasn’t funny as he dodged it.
“You weren’t qualified enough,” He spat. “They only take the best.”
His frame straightened a little too proudly and I gaped before I growled and chucked an empty bottle at him. He was not so great at dodging those and yelped as it hit him in the shoulder.
“And I’m not!?” I demanded. “I was good enough to be in your ER during some of the most important surgeries in Gotham General for the childrens ward, or was it just because you got to fuck me on the same table you saved lives on. Because now that I think about it, you’re a fucking egotistical bastard for talking me into that!”
He seem to grasp at straws for something to say. And ended up falling back on an excuse he’d used for most of the arguments we got in after I lost my job.
“I know you’ve had it hard baby, ever since the Joker...”
“The Joker is not the reason you left me!” I yelled, cutting him off. My face crumbling a little. “He’s not the reason you told me to find a new place to live instead of offering to have me move in with you. And he’s sure as hell not the reason I didn’t let you get what you deserved when you knocked on the fucking door!”
The look of shock in Elliot’s eyes was wonderful and unsatisfying at the same time. I was breathing too hard, the adrenaline and strange righteous joy of saying all that rushing through my body making me shake a little.
The look he gave something over my shoulder was almost priceless and I wondered exactly what had managed to put it there when warm, bare arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against a very hard chest in a way that was protective and had my mind reeling with one simple fact, Bruce Wayne is shirtless, Bruce Wayne is shirtless, Bruce Wayne is shirtless...
“I came out to see what all the commotion was about,” came a very deep baritone drawl in my ear as if he’d just woken up from a great round of sex. Which, by all rights, he had. It just hadn’t played a starring role. Though from the fixed set of Elliot’s stare the man holding me was not looking at me as he spoke. “Are you all right, Dezzy?”
I was in a pleasant limbo of shock and happy fuzzies that after all the feminine hype I was finally understanding how it had started when Bruce tightened his arms a little around me to bring me out of it. The shaking got a little worse before it got better.
I jolted before nodding my head, swallowing down the rise of emotion that rose up in my throat as reality, or something resembling it came back. “I’m fine.”
“Mr. Wayne.” Elliot said in cold greeting to the man wrapped around me like a possessive lover. I could definitely get used to this.
“Dr. Michaels.” Bruce responded in deadpan.
I didn’t want to know how he knew Elliot’s name.
Then a very dangerous question rose to my lips. “Bruce, where’s the dog?!” I asked in an almost squeak.
The playboy chuckled and I swear, I never wanted to hear that sound again unless he was fully dressed and not pressed against my body. Damn you, Batman, I was getting you back for this!
"Don't worry, getting out will keep him busy for a while." He assured.
But I was too damn paranoid to take his word for it and looking past one very large bicep I saw that the vigilante had tied the handle of my bedroom door to the adjacent bathroom door handle with the remains of Joker’s ruined Batman shirt.
It looked like a fantastic solution really. That was until I saw a very thin knife poke out through the space between door and frame and start to slide up and down in search of the fabric containing our ‘dog’.
Turning back to the two men who were still sizing up each other as if they were about to go three rounds of celebrity deathmatch, I dug my fingers into Bruce’s arm. “I think Elliot was just leaving.”
Author: heatherhouse
Rating: PG-13, for now
Characters/Pairings: Joker/Batman, OC
Warnings: Un'bated, Crackfic
Disclaimer: Only Desarai belongs to me, so please don't take her. The boys belongs to DC and Warner Brothers.
Verse: Movieverse
A/N: This is a much longer post and I hope you like the imaginary douche bag. Hope you all enjoy. XD
Summary: I didn't want to see Joker and Batman kissing. It just happened.
“And fuck is who?” Joker asked curiously, canting his head to the side as he slowly made his way to the door.
Bruce and I both had the same idea and my head swam as I was set down on wobbly legs so the vigilante could tackle the Joker to the ground. The scuffle that ensued to keep the lanky and surprisingly spry psychopath down made my door jiggle.
“Dezz, are you okay? Dezzy?!”
I just stared wide eyed at the blur of bodies, giggling and growling as Bruce tried to keep Joker down. And with the way Joker was retaliating...it was about as hard core porn you could get with clothes on and I gave Bruce a gold star for not attacking the Joker’s clothes and take up the offer that limber little blond was obviously presenting with that body language and the, ahem...groans. Hell, I would have folded.
It was about the time I heard. “Dezzy, I’ll get help, hold on!”
That my mind snapped out of happy faghag land and jumped over the two struggling bodies. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s just a few rats.” I said before my mind filtered that for more sane viewing.
“What?” Demanded the voice.
“I..I mean cats. A cat got in, scared the dog...I...” blanked. “I have a dog now?”
Joker somehow got too close to me and snapped at my heels with a loud bark and a grin. I jumped away and glared, resisting the urge to kick him in the face when Bruce finally had him pinned.
The door handle jiggled. “Well let me in I can help.”
“No! It’s fine!” I said through my teeth and pointed at the bedroom so the maniacs would get the message. “I can take care of it myself, hold on a second!” I said loudly.
Turning on the two men sprawled on my floor I hissed. “Get moving, now!”
It took a very impressive move on Bruce’s part to lock up the Joker’s arms, tossing head and kicking feet. And I was not stupid enough to get near any of those limbs at the moment as the mad man treated it like a game, giggling the whole way every time he managed to get some limb loose only for Bruce to snatch it back into a lock again.
It wasn’t until Bruce managed to struggle waltz Joker into the room and slam the door shut that I tried to right myself and realized I hadn’t actually changed or showered since that morning and I looked all of crap in my jogging pants and tank top, blond hair twisted up into a sad birds nest of a bun.
I sighed, par for the course when it came to Elliot Michaels being involved.
At least I looked the part of going three rounds with a pair of feuding animals when I opened the door and glared at the beautiful, make Dr. Shepard turn in his hunk badge, Elliot Michaels. I used to really love my paper cut out of an attractive doctor. Now I just stared at him in envy like that three thousand dollar dress in the Sax window that you made the mistake of trying on and found fit you perfectly, unlike the size of your bank account.
Elliot was that same dress on loan to you, complete with a three man guard that made sure you didn’t damage it and then take it away right after you got used to wearing it. Except that Elliot took himself away, without warning me he’d left me naked in the process.
“What do you want, Elliot?” I asked, finally feeling the hours I’d been up and overly active.
Elliot just kind of glowed amid all the rot and lack of care in the hallway he stood in. He gave me a sympathetic look. I hated it.
“You look like shit Dezz.” He said gently and sniffed the air with a wrinkle of his nose. “Have you been drinking?”
Funny how with ex’s you didn’t so much want to strangle them then get swallowed up by the wallpaper or hugged and petted by the same person berating you, just so you wouldn’t feel as worthless as they made you feel.
“It’s a free country. Now I’m going to repeat myself. What are you doing here?” I kept the door between the two of us as I looked at him through the small portion I’d opened. The same door I’d held open for Joker.
“I want to talk.” He said quietly.
“Then talk.” I said shortly, I didn’t want him to be nice to me, not like this.
He looked past me to the practically trashed apartment pointedly. “I think it was better we did this inside, Dezz.”
“I wouldn’t want to chance the dog getting out.” I said darkly, eyes narrowed. Oh god, how a part of me so badly wanted to let the ‘dog’ get out with Elliot in the way of his food dish.
But when Elliot stared at me blankly, oblivious that I had two dangerous men hanging out in my bedroom and the threat that presented I just sighed and left the door open for him as I trudged back inside to start the task of cleaning up the liquor bottles and shredded clothing.
I could feel him too close behind me as I switched off the tv.
“Speak.” I snapped.
“I got settled in at the hospital and my paychecks coming in pretty constant now. So I was hoping you’d take some of it and get yourself out of the Narrows, Dezz. You’re starting to blend in with the locals a little too much.” He said critically as his eyes swept up and down my frame unkindly.
It was a simple, common as hell arrangement of words. But it still hit me like a punch to the gut and I spun around fast enough to make myself dizzy before pushing him back with all the force my body had in it. He tripped, startled and fell on his ass. And I was almost disappointed in an empty way that he didn’t spring back to his feet with a laugh or quirk of a brow at me. He just gawked.
“Get out.” I growled, or tried, I was pathetic at intimidating.
But for once I managed it as Elliot scrambled back to his feet and took a step back.
“I just want to help you!” He argued , holding his hand up as if he were staving off a bear instead of his 5’6 ex-girlfriend.
I was fuming and he wasn’t helping. “You mean like how you got the job at the Gotham teaching hospital and didn’t even mention me to the head nurse when I asked you to? And then lied when I put you down as a reference?” I demanded and chucked a pillow at him. It wasn’t funny as he dodged it.
“You weren’t qualified enough,” He spat. “They only take the best.”
His frame straightened a little too proudly and I gaped before I growled and chucked an empty bottle at him. He was not so great at dodging those and yelped as it hit him in the shoulder.
“And I’m not!?” I demanded. “I was good enough to be in your ER during some of the most important surgeries in Gotham General for the childrens ward, or was it just because you got to fuck me on the same table you saved lives on. Because now that I think about it, you’re a fucking egotistical bastard for talking me into that!”
He seem to grasp at straws for something to say. And ended up falling back on an excuse he’d used for most of the arguments we got in after I lost my job.
“I know you’ve had it hard baby, ever since the Joker...”
“The Joker is not the reason you left me!” I yelled, cutting him off. My face crumbling a little. “He’s not the reason you told me to find a new place to live instead of offering to have me move in with you. And he’s sure as hell not the reason I didn’t let you get what you deserved when you knocked on the fucking door!”
The look of shock in Elliot’s eyes was wonderful and unsatisfying at the same time. I was breathing too hard, the adrenaline and strange righteous joy of saying all that rushing through my body making me shake a little.
The look he gave something over my shoulder was almost priceless and I wondered exactly what had managed to put it there when warm, bare arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against a very hard chest in a way that was protective and had my mind reeling with one simple fact, Bruce Wayne is shirtless, Bruce Wayne is shirtless, Bruce Wayne is shirtless...
“I came out to see what all the commotion was about,” came a very deep baritone drawl in my ear as if he’d just woken up from a great round of sex. Which, by all rights, he had. It just hadn’t played a starring role. Though from the fixed set of Elliot’s stare the man holding me was not looking at me as he spoke. “Are you all right, Dezzy?”
I was in a pleasant limbo of shock and happy fuzzies that after all the feminine hype I was finally understanding how it had started when Bruce tightened his arms a little around me to bring me out of it. The shaking got a little worse before it got better.
I jolted before nodding my head, swallowing down the rise of emotion that rose up in my throat as reality, or something resembling it came back. “I’m fine.”
“Mr. Wayne.” Elliot said in cold greeting to the man wrapped around me like a possessive lover. I could definitely get used to this.
“Dr. Michaels.” Bruce responded in deadpan.
I didn’t want to know how he knew Elliot’s name.
Then a very dangerous question rose to my lips. “Bruce, where’s the dog?!” I asked in an almost squeak.
The playboy chuckled and I swear, I never wanted to hear that sound again unless he was fully dressed and not pressed against my body. Damn you, Batman, I was getting you back for this!
"Don't worry, getting out will keep him busy for a while." He assured.
But I was too damn paranoid to take his word for it and looking past one very large bicep I saw that the vigilante had tied the handle of my bedroom door to the adjacent bathroom door handle with the remains of Joker’s ruined Batman shirt.
It looked like a fantastic solution really. That was until I saw a very thin knife poke out through the space between door and frame and start to slide up and down in search of the fabric containing our ‘dog’.
Turning back to the two men who were still sizing up each other as if they were about to go three rounds of celebrity deathmatch, I dug my fingers into Bruce’s arm. “I think Elliot was just leaving.”