NSFW: The Joker (DC) x Gender Neutral Y/N, Joker Breeding, Clown Cum, Empathetic Joker, Religious Imagery, Brief But Crippling Knowledge That You Are Alone In This World, Implied Jrap On (Joker Strap On)
"Nnng.. hahh... HAHAHAHAHA!" Joker blasts his thick silly string deep into your womb, his signature Maniacal Laughter almost louder than the sound of your wonton, choked-out orgasm.
Almost.
Joker pauses, quivering within your Gender Neutral Hole, listening to the sounds of your pleasure. You can feel the curl of his lips against your ear, clearly pleased with your performance as he twitches inside of you, eliciting yet another wonton moan.
"You're spelling that wrong, you know," he chuckles breathlessly into your ear.
"What?" You gasp, only half listening as your Afformentioned Neutral And All-Reader Inclusive Hole flutters frantically around his member, like a terrified bird might flutter in the hand of someone who catches birds with their hand.
"Wanton: unrestrained, sexually suggestive," he purrs. "Wonton: something you eat."
You cannot hear the difference in the spelling because you have Normal Ears instead of Joker Ears, and because frankly, you are too freaking Turned On to understand a word he says to you. Your mind has been thoroughly fucked, and he seems to sense this, pulling out despite your protests.
"Hush, dear..." he shifts instead to hold you. "I think that's enough. You hardly know your own name anymore," He chuckles darkly.
You frown, because that's stupid, and you literally still know your name. Your name is literally Y/N. Like you could ever forget. Everyone in class always made fun of you for it. It's not even a word, just two letters with a slash in between. That was the beginning of it all: the isolation from your peers, the firm knowledge that you were different from them. That you'd never fit in.
You huff, all kawaii-like, at the memory, and snuggle in closer against your Joker Alpha. You are the little spoon, obviously, and you are more than a little disappointed to feel his c*ck softening behind you. He chuckles, knowingly, as if sensing your distress. God, he's such a freaking empath, it drives you crazy, and then turns you on, and then makes you cry. You've never been seen before like this. It's honestly a little terrifying. You're not sure you deserve this kind of love.
He chuckles sadly in your ear. "Y/N... You're spiraling again, aren't you?" He chuckles patiently. And God, yes, you are. And you're crying too, like some kind of baka. The truth is, you cannot accept any warmth from other people without the gnawing feeling in your stomach that the only reason they've gotten so close is that they just haven't gotten a good look at you yet. They don't see your sharp edges, or your anger, or the horrible desperation that has you clawing at the dirt and screaming "look at me, LOOK AT ME!" at every person stupid enough to give you the time of day. Selfishly, like a child, scooping up greedy handfuls of Eden's soil, cramming it into the cavity between your ribs as if you intend to take the Garden with you. You cannot take it, and it is not your home anymore. It does not accept you. You are too filthy to even be fed to its worms.
The Joker is wiping your tears with the spider-like fingers of his long yaoi hands. He chuckles empathetically behind you, murmuring affirmations to you, silently guiding you through breathing exercises, rubbing small circles onto your back. "Why do you like me?" you mutter miserably into your pillow.
For a moment, you have the horrible sensation that this isn't real. That you're alone in your bed. That you've made it all up. That the Joker is just a fictional character.
Joker squeezes you, tight, chuckling all the thoughts out of your head, planting kisses down the back of your neck and spine. "Maybe you shouldn't be thinking tonight, after all..." His voice is music to you, drowning out your thoughts. "Is that what you need, darling?" Clown fingers trace shapes on your hips. You nod, unable to speak, grateful that he understands.
The Joker chuckles seductively. "How about I breed you again, Y/N? How about we replace all those silly little thoughts by filling you up?"
You moan, wantonly, nodding even more eagerly than before.
The Joker chuckles excitedly. "Well, I have just the toy to make sure you are extra full, my love ♡"
This would have had me crucified on tumblr 10 years ago but maybe we are ready for this conversation now:
If you are a socially anxious person, you have to socialize. Your panic/anxiety attacks will only get worse and trigger more frequently if you constantly avoid contact with The Public. Not saying that you need to be a social butterfly- but there is a genuine problem with not being able to order your own meal at a restaurant. And it cannot be solved by always having someone else do it for you.
This is a PSA to about 3/4s of the Portland Youth populace
everyone who reblogs this and is like "I ordered my own tea this week" or "I only barfed once when I had to give a presentation'- you are doing amazing sweetie. Have patience with yourself, you are relearning a skill so difficult that people get 4 year degrees to do it professionally.
something I resent is how much any fictional woman in any story seems to be forever bound to be a woman first and a character second. every time. and I wouldn’t mind in fiction that seeks to specifically explore the topic but it’s everywhere, all the time. and im sorry but that’s really not my experience with my sense of self. lmao
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