#jokerfandom

This is a JokerxReader.

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Your P. O. V

“Well, what do we have here?” I asked, walking into the abandoned warehouse in only a drapey white tee. Took a few twenty of em’ but my men got The Clown Prince Of Crime sober in a metal stretcher. “Awe, what’s the matter, Mister. J?” My hands hit the surface of it, but he doesn’t flinch. Too bad. My (Y/H/C) hair flows down my shoulder and some of his “Damaged” tattoo. “Ah said uh machine gun.. not an abduction, Doll–” I cut him off by placing my finger against his red lips and said:

“Shh, Billy Boy… Momma didn’t say you could talk, did I?”

A growl sounded in his throat and I giggled, almost falling to the floor of how humorous I thought this to be. I thought: “I’m soo dead”, knowing I’d be punished severely after this.  "So what? Ya gonna kill me, Sweets?“ He asked, “Of course, but not until after I’m done playing with you” I giggle. “Say ‘ahh’..” I mocked, jamming the belt in his mouth, “I wouldn’t wanna break those sexy silver teeth uh yours… when the juice hits your brain”.

I’ve legit been on writer’s block for the most part, but whatever…（ミ￣ー￣ミ）

“C'mon, (Y/N)… Daddy’s tired, won’t ya’ come to bed with Daddy?”

You roll your eyes and continue tapping the keys to your laptop; sat at the edge of the bed. “If you’re tired… then just sleep” You respond, and he doesn’t seem to like it as a low growl sets in his throat. His lips trail love marks on the crease of your sacrum and you arch your back; the faint moans suppressed.

His purring sent a chill up your spine and you swat him off, now pissed. “Hey, gimmie!” He snagged the laptop from your lap and you stand on your tippy-toes, stretching your short stature to his tall one. “Dammit!” You exclaim now jumping, “What could be more important on here than me, hmm?” He huffs.

“T-that’s… private” You mumble barely over a whisper, not even trying to stop him anymore. You’re exhausted. Out of breath. And instead of handing the device back like a normal person–which he’s not–your pushed to the bed; pinned, and crawled on. “Daddy’s gonna teach ya a little something about manners… if you forgot..” He murmured; teeth and fists clenched.

His green hair draped along your collar bone while he struggled to unclip the openwork bra you wore; whispering words of impatience along the way. “Whats wrong Daddy?” You scoffed, playing in his hair and he murmured s'more. “Dammit, Kitten!” his fists hit the mattress. Awe, he’s so angry he can’t concentrate… You thought, pecking at his “Damaged” tattoo.

Nonetheless, you’re amused at his distress, but you’re too nice to torment him any longer. “See? It’s easy.” You unclip it yourself and straddle it around his neck, pulling at it to bring his lips closer to yours. He kisses you back but when you part, you find him dozing off. Well, that’s new, he must be really tired then… You think.

“Ok then, I’ll go to Frosty..” “(Y/N)! Get your ass back here!” “Ohh, I thought you were tired” “C'mon, Baby… you know I can sleep without cha’..” “Ok..” “You’re lucky I need your ass..” “Haha, you love me–say you love me, J” “Doll, I’m beat, go to sleep” “Ok..”

Yeah, sorry. I know I promised a certain Kitten that I’d make a Pt. 2 to “You’re His Weakness...”, but I've had this in mind for sooo long. And yes, a part 2 will be out by tomorrow at most hopefully. Enjoy this, and you’re always free to just *Boop* that like and follow button. “Ta-ta!”

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As soon as the door went agape and you saw Joker in the hands of Frost and another henchman; you run to them. Cupping his face in your hands, you observe his busted and place a kiss on it, as well as comb through his roughened hair. But he pushes you out the way as Joker's grunts become louder.

You bite your lip as you watch them carefully walk the Joker's frail body up the spiral staircase. You had been worried sick and waited 8 hours to be promised arrival long before. One of his goons led you to the guest room in which you stayed in at these urgent times.

You sat with your arms to your chest on the satin cloaked bed and waited for the operation to be through. You were happy, nonetheless, knowing your Frosty was OK. The hours were tempting, as you paced back and forth from within the room.

Hours passed and you hadn't known you had fallen asleep as Frost attempted to slip into bed and in your grasps, without waking you. Mission failed and you opened your eyes, having them water fro missing his touch so much. He laid bare face on your chest and let out a sigh of relief, and comfort; of both, he hadn't felt in a while.

You closed your eyes, inhaling, and massaging his aching scalp; relieving a bit of bottled up stress. He missed your touch too. More, actually. He let out a painful groan, trickling his hands down the side of your stomach. "What's wrong, Baby?". You coped softly, your sleepy voice as sweet as ever.

"Nothing...".

This is a Joker fanfic, imagine. The first one I've ever written to be so self-confident about, actually. I whipped this up in the middle of the night, near midnight, to be precise. So take caution in the comments section knowing my brain was like what? Half awake? But enough of this, I hope you enjoy and you're always free to just *boop* that like and follow button. Goodnight, love!

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“No.. mhmh.. no, this isn’t happening”.

You tried to suppress the begging tears from slipping down your face as you saw the horrendous scene. Your breathing choked as you tried to muffle your sobs, but nothing was working. You tried biting your lip, but you were never a fan or that either. So you stood there; mascara running, legs quaking, and breathing staggered.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, or as, thought you saw. The one person who you had let sink in through the cracks or your heart was indeed the one to blame for breaking it. The walls were splatted in blood and guts and your mother’s face lay stamped to the floor as blood oozed from her stomach; her eyes as lifeless as ever.

“H-how, how could you?… do this?”

The clown Prince of Crime stood in front of you with an army or goons behind him; his gold-handled cane in his hands, and gold necklaces and rings planted on his neck and knuckles. You knew he was cold-hearted, but this was over the top, even for him. He knew how important your mother meant to you, regardless of the abuse and neglect she shared with you; she was still your mother.

Not knowing how you wanted to leave here. You no longer could stand looking at his smug smirk that displayed on the curvature of his red lips. He didn’t care, obviously. All he cared about was money and empowerment. After all, that’s just what gangsters do. And with that, you ran out the door of your once lived home.

Not knowing where you were going, or even when you were going to stop, you continued down the dark, late afternoon streets of Gotham. Soon, you were standing on the near side edge of a cliff; more like a steep, rocky valley with a shallow, but quite deep, river though. Were you to jump? No, you weren’t the suicidal girl; you would know. You wouldn’t be caught dead doing that.