Author's Note: Hi! This first one shot started as a bit of experiment to see if I could write smut, but since I enjoyed it so much, I decided to make it into a series. I had originally posted the first three of these one-shots separately, but it seemed easier to keep them together in one collection. The one-shots are sequential, but they can be read as stand-alone stories if you want - at the end of the day, they're basically porn without much plot, so don't expect much more than that as I continue to update this. I'm happy to take suggestions however, so if there's a particular scenario you'd like me to write, please leave me a review and let me know. I'll see what I can do!

Warnings: This is M-rated for a reason, and features explicit M/M sex. If that's not your thing, I suggest that you stop reading now. For everyone else, I hope you enjoy it!

Sucker for Pain

They'd built up to it for weeks before they'd finally given in. The fights, the chasing, the taunting. Neither had acknowledged it, but the hurtful words and increasingly violent encounters were something they had both begun to look forward to.

Something they craved.

For Bruce, the Joker was like a drug, and he spent all his time now trying to get a fix. He would fight him, hurt him, stop him, but it was like the clown represented the worst part of himself, a part that he didn't ever like to acknowledge. A part that was so far removed from the handsome billionaire that Bruce barely recognised it as himself.

But it was. It was as much the part of the Batman as Bruce was. He wanted to hurt the Joker. And – something he had only recently had the courage to admit to himself – he wanted the Joker to hurt him too…

"Fuck!" Bruce panted, after a particularly forceful thrust. "Do you need to be so…rough?"

The Joker continued to bury his dick in Bruce's ass at a furious rate. Bruce felt his body push forward with each thrust, but the pleasure he was feeling far outweighed the pain.

"Ha!" the Joker replied, giggling. "You love it when I'm rough."

And God, he did. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't deny it. He loved this. They been doing this for a few weeks now, but it was only the second time he'd been fucked by the Joker – every other time he'd been the one doing the fucking. Still, he couldn't deny it. He was living for this now. Every time they fought, every time they fucked…

"Argh," he grunted at a particularly violent thrust of the joker's hips. "Shit, will you be careful back there?"

"Shut it, Bats," Joker replied, thrusting harder. Bruce groaned as he felt the full length of the Joker's thick cock filling him up. He was bent over a dusty wooden table in an empty, derelict warehouse – half of his kevlar armour lying around him on the floor, and half still fixed on the upper half of his body - being fucked to ecstasy by the man who was supposed to be his nemesis.

And worst of all, he was loving every second of it.

"Yes," he hissed, as the Joker hit a particularly deep spot in side of him. Bruce grabbed his painfully hard dick and starting pulling frantically in time with the Joker's deep thrusts. "Shit, harder."

Joker dug his hands into Bruce's hips and dutifully obeyed, thrusting forward so hard that the heavy table shifted and Bruce nearly lost his footing. Bruce let go of his own throbbing dick and gripped the table, pushing back as the Joker pushed forward. He wanted more. He needed more…

"Yes, Batsy," Joker panted, "That's it, take it. Take my dick!"

"Shit," Bruce moaned. "Harder. Fuck me like you mean it, you insane clown!"

But, of course, the clown chose that moment to be fuck with his mind as well. So rather than increasing his speed, the Joker stopped altogether, his dick throbbing deep in Bruce's ass but otherwise frozen still. Bruce tried to move back, to start the Joker up again, but the Joker pushed him against the table and held him down firmly by the neck.

"I wonder what your beloved Alfred would say if he saw you like this," the Joker whispered in Bruce's ear, bending forward as he started thrusting again, his movements deliberately slow. It was infuriating, it was…torturous…

Bruce swallowed and tried not to react. "Just shut up and fuck me, Joker."

The Joker just licked Bruce's earlobe and whispered, "Make me."

The Batman didn't need a second invitation. Bruce growled and turned, pulling himself free from the Joker's strong grasp. The Joker moaned at the loss of contact, but he didn't have long to protest because Bruce pushed him backwards with a forceful shove, the Joker's half naked body slapping against the cold, hard floor of the warehouse.

Of course, true to form, the Joker just laughed from his position on the floor.

"Aw, Brucie," he giggled. "Does this mean you're going to show me how it's done?"

He leant back on his elbows and lewdly spread his legs out, exposing his own hole to his partner. Bruce ignored him. Instead he wiped a hand across his sweaty face and tried to control the urge to hurt the man on the floor. He wasn't wearing his cowl, but it didn't matter anymore. The Joker already knew who he really was. His mask had been removed during their second encounter – Bruce had been too wrung out in post-orgasmic bliss to protest – but the clown had never done anything about it, beyond the odd comment here than there, aimed to rile up the Batman.

Of course all the comments really did was get his blood pumping for more.

"Shut it, Joker," he growled. "It's my turn, remember."

He pushed the giggling clown back down with another shove. Then, keeping one hand on the man's chest, Bruce pulled at the Joker's clothes, ripping them from his pale body, and leaving him almost completely naked. Bruce kept the rest of his own armour on, only leaving his bottom half exposed. He didn't know why, but he liked it more when he had something on. Maybe because the Kevlar served as a physical reminder that as much as he didn't want to acknowledge it, the Batman – supposedly a force for everything right and good in the world - was enjoying this as much as Bruce was.

"Come on, Brucie," the Joker sang. "Don't keep me waiting…"

"Shut it, clown," Bruce repeated. He pushed down hard, catching the Joker in the ribs but he followed it up quickly with a strong tug at the man's throbbing dick.

"Oh…" the Joker groaned, writhing on the dusty floor. "That's it…"

Any more words were pulled from the clown's throat when Bruce leant down for a long, lingering, hard kiss. Then he thrust his tongue in, and the Joker followed suit, their tongues dancing as Bruce tugged forcefully at the Joker's slick cock. His own dick was rock hard, and he used his free hand to pull at it with increasing urgency. Joker bit at Bruce's lip, then pushed his hand away though, taking a firm grip of Bruce's erection instead and pulling it in time with Bruce's own actions.

With his hand free again, Bruce pulled at the Joker's hair and the clown grabbed at Bruce's arms, his grip so tight it hurt. God, Bruce liked it when it hurt…

Bruce groaned and reluctantly pulled himself away. He needed more than this. He needed more…

"Lie back down," he ordered hoarsely, pushing the Joker back down to the floor. The clown obeyed, and Bruce lifted himself up and moved closer to the Joker until his ass was hanging above the Joker's rock hard erection.

"Bruce, please," the Joker begged, eyes wide, gasping for more contact. Bruce smirk down at him – glad he wasn't the one to break this time - and then slowly lowered himself down.

Bruce bit back a moan, muscles straining as he finally sank down on the Joker's dick, feeling every inch of the throbbing organ as it slowly filled him up.

"Fuck…" he groaned.

And then he began to move. Up and down, up and down, faster and faster until finally the Joker was thrusting upwards feverishly, and Bruce was pushing down just as hard. They were both moaning now as endorphins rushed through their bodies and the pleasure amped up to an almost unimaginable level.

Bruce panted. Every nerve ending was on fire. He felt electric. He knew this was wrong, that the man who was fucking him was a villain, a murderer, but in the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. His muscles were burning, but he couldn't believe how good it felt.

"Fuck, Joker," he groaned. He could feel the hot drag of the Joker's dick deep inside him, and he arched his body back as he forced his ass down, trying to get it deeper still. He was close. Dammit he was so close…

Perhaps sensing his partner's impending orgasm, the Joker chose that moment to grab at Bruce's dick, tugging at it so forcefully that it was almost painful. His movements were quickening, and his grip was so tight that Bruce could almost imagine that he was impaling the Joker himself.

"Shit," Joker moaned as he jerked upwards. Bruce forced himself to look down, to watch as the clown grew closer and closer to his own orgasm. He was supposed to hate the Joker, but how could he, when he was so much like himself…?

"Joker…" Bruce moaned, and then with one final forceful thrust of the Joker's dick, Bruce saw stars, his vision went white, and then he was coming, spilling over the edge with a cry, white splashing across his own chest and the Joker's. His dick jerked and quivered as he rode out his orgasm, but the Joker kept thrusting, once, twice, three times, before he was coming too, his juices filling Bruce up until he could feel the hot liquid deep inside.

"Shit…" Bruce groaned as he collapsed against the Joker's chest, the man's dick softening and throbbing deep inside him.

The Joker stayed there for a long moment, taking Bruce's weight, keeping his dick inside his nemesis for a few seconds longer before he finally pulled out and pushed Bruce away. Bruce landed on the ground with a thud, but couldn't bring himself to care. Not about the pain, not about anything…

The Joker giggled at him and then pulled himself up of the floor and began to gather up his clothes. Joker's half-naked body was still covered in splashes Bruce's come, which made Bruce feel better about the fact that the clown's own juices were starting to leak out of his ass.

"Joker," Bruce began, but he didn't know what to say. Now that his urges had been sated, he wasn't sure who he should hate more; the Joker or himself.

Or whether he even had it in himself to hate either one of them.

"Well, hate to fuck and run," the Joker said cheerfully as he pulled on the last of his clothes. "But I've got places to be."

"Joker…" Bruce said.

But then, without so much as a kiss goodbye, the Joker was gone.

Bruce sighed and leant back against the floor, his body throbbing but his mind blissfully free. He wasn't worried. He knew that the Joker would be back. He knew that there would be a next time.

Because despite how much they supposedly loathed either other, despite the fact that they fought against each other at every turn, at the end of the day they would both do everything in their power to make absolutely sure of it.