A/N: Yay for another Batman one-shot! This one, like Vicious, is insipired by Mad Love, and is also partly inspired by the lovely slantedwonders, whose copy of Mad Love I stole in order to be inspired for this. It's a nice little circle, isn't it? As opposed to Vicious, which is told from dearest Harley's perspective, this one is from our favorite Joker's mind. Forgive me if his voice seems off; he's the hardest character for me to write accurately. Although, this one kind of wrote itself, which was surprising. The pairings are Joker/Harley and Joker/Batman, all implication and nothing graphic at all. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, don't own Batman, Mad Love, or anything else.
When Harley—Harley Quinn, harlequin, H-a-r-leeee—calls him Mistah J he loves it. The way her lips curl around the vowels, the way she rounds out the word mister with her cute little twang, the hiss on the 'I' and the sharp bite on the 't', the way that 'J' rolls off her tongue. He gets these pleasant little shivers down his spine when she calls him that. He especially loves it when she's beneath him, pressed close, when her back arches and she moans out the name. Those are the moments when he thinks that he could feel something like love for her.
But when she calls him puddin', oh he just wants to kill her. He wants to wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and squeeze until all the life drains from her pretty little bedroom eyes. He wants to take one of his knives—a special knife just for her—and carve the damn word right into her pretty little skin. Oh, sometimes that's the only thing he can think about, because he hates when she calls him that name. Sometimes he drifts into his own little daydream, just dreaming of it. He wants to press her down and see pretty little tears run down her pretty little face as she cries and cries and he laughs and laughs.
But the one, singular time that Batman calls him that name—Puddin'—he feels like melting. He feels like he's just gonna dissolve into a little puddle of greasepaint and heat and impossible, buoyant joy. Hearing that name that he hates so much purred in that gravelly voice…well, after that the only thing he wants out of life is to hear that name in that same voice over and over again. His brain just stops and plays that scene over and over. He doesn't care about anything that happened before or anything that happens after, he just hears puddin'. It's all he wants to hear, all he wants to know.
A'course, he will never tell pretty little Har-lee that Batman used her special word. She'd prolly go out and do something crazy….
Which, on second thought, might be a hilarious course of events.
He grins and hums a little song and goes to introduce a little chaos to the world.
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