Call me strange, but I really like the idea that both Bruce and Selina do NOT want Helena being dragged into the whole "Batman" BS, but mostly Selina. I mean, with everything she went through when she was younger, I see her saying to Bruce, "Make her a Robin, and I'll make World War 2 look like a tea party!" Bruce, also I can see being more hesitant upon making her a Robin since she is his daughter, and I can see Bruce wanting her to be a Robin. But I can see him buying her some Batman merch and Selina giving him a look.
Source: JSA the Golden Age (2022)
Also, hot take: and say what you want IDC: Helena is the superior child of Bruce. Damian I've never liked, I always hated him he was from a relationship which was just about sex and also DC really wanna villainise Talia because sure.(thanks Grant Morrison or whoever did it), Helena is a more interesting case since her parents are built on a relationship of overcoming trauma and forgiveness (at least Earth 2)
Joker’s Son x Reader (Frost’s Daughter) - Playing Pool
Ok, so I had a request from an anon for another Joker’s son Fan fiction and I didn’t acutally mean to write it this soon, but I came up with this oneshot when I was trying to write the next part of Frost’s Secret.
It’s a bit random, but I hope you guys like it anyway! :)
(Kept the name Lonnie for the Joker’s son, because... why not...?)
WARNINGS: None I think... Bit fluffy...
WORDS: 4291
Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything!
REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!
MASTERLIST
You sighed heavily as you sat at the old kitchen table in the warehouse, tracing a large gouge in the wood next to where your elbow rested, your head in your hand.
“That was a sigh and half.” Noted Lonnie next to you where he sat with his legs up on the table, swiping through his phone.
You glanced across at him with bored eyes. “Sorry.” You mumbled, pushing yourself upright and arching your back, stretching your arms out to the side and then reaching them up above you. You yawned widely, covering your mouth with your hand and blinking yourself awake.
Lonnie chuckled at you. “Bored by any chance?”
You smirked weakly. “Just a bit.”
Lonnie seemed to pause in thought for a minute, then glanced around the large concrete space that was used as a break room for the Joker’s men – currently empty due to the hour. His eyes fell on something on the other side of the room. “Ever played pool before?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
You glanced over at the table he had been looking at, shaking your head, “No.”
“I’ll teach you.” He said happily, kicking his feet off the table and jumping up.
Within ten minutes, Lonnie had handed you a cue, racked up the balls and was offering you the chance to break. Your frowned at him, thinking you knew what he meant, but double checking anyway.
“Just line up that white ball with the point of the triangle I’ve made and smack ‘em.” He grinned. You were sure it was meant to be more technical then that, but you were happy to go along with what he said.
“And – uh - how am I supposed to do this again?” You asked. You had seen people playing this game before and you knew vaguely the position you were supposed to take up with the cue, but now the time came for you to do, you weren’t quite so sure.
“Ok,” Lonnie said, stepping forward, “you’re a righty, right?” You nodded, smirking at his wording. “Ok – so - lay your left hand flat on the green.” You copied his instructions. “Now, lie the cue on the top of your hand – good – now find a place for it to lie somewhat securely, though you still want to be able to move it back and forth. Different people have different preferences.” He explained with a shrug.
You ended up lying the stick between you thumb and index finger, finding a comfortable groove there. “Ok, good.” Lonnie praised, “Now, your right hand ought to be quite far back on the cue, around about where that back bit is marked.” You shifted your hand back. “That’s about right - now just give it a go.”
You felt oddly nervous about this - not wanting to look completely stupid by completely missing – but you lined up your cue and struck the white ball. It shot forward, but all its momentum was lost the minute it hit the grouped balls, a ripple running through the triangle, but only the very outer balls moving a few inches away.
You straightened yourself up, frowning in disappointment and glancing back at Lonnie.
“Nah, that’s alright.” He reassured you, “Just needs a bit more power - but as a first go it’s not too shabby.”
He moved now to take your place, lining himself up with seasoned expertise and hitting it the white ball with a resounding crack, sending the balls scattering in all directions across the table, two of them sinking into pockets.
“Guess I’m stripes then.” He smirked proudly, glancing at back at you, clearly pleased with his play, but not wanting to flaunt his success where you were such a failure.
“Stripes?” You cuestioned.
“Oh yeah,” Lonnie said, suddenly remembering. “There are two balls,” He pointed at one of the balls, it was numbered 9 and was white with a yellow band around it. “Stripes,” He explained, then pointing at another ball, this one numbered 1 and completely yellow except for the white circle where the number was painted on. “and solids.” You nodded at this. “I sunk two striped balls, so I’m stripes – that means you are solids. I can now only pocket the striped balls, and you can only pocket the solid.”
“Right, ok.” You muttered. That made sense. Sort of.
Lonnie went to take another shot.
“Hey, isn’t it my go?” You asked.
He pulled up from where he had already leant over the table. “If you pocket a ball, you get another turn.” He told you.
“You’re not just making these rules up, are you?” You smirked, eying him suspiciously.
“No, it’s a real rule.” Lonnie grinned, “Cross my heart.” He promised, making a gesture over his chest.
“Fine.”
You watched as he took the shot, striking numerous balls, but not sinking any of them this time.
“Now it’s your turn.” He allowed, gesturing at the table with a hand, bowing out like a gentleman. You scowled teasingly at him, but stepped forward, evaluating the table.
You made your shot, but you had taken Lonnie’s advice of hitting harder a bit too far, and the ball bounced violently off the cushions, ricocheting around the table and spending other balls flying in numerous directions.
You could tell Lonnie was trying not to laugh next to you. “Ok, you’ve hit ‘em gently, and you’ve smack ‘em to high heaven - maybe now try to find the in between.” He advised with a chuckle.
“Sure, thanks, I’ll bare that in mind.” You muttered dryly, your cheeks hot.
He grinned at you as he walked past to make his next shot. He potted one, then went for another shot, smartly bouncing it off one of the cushions so it rolled smoothly into another pocket.
You gritted your teeth.
The man was good.
The next shot he knew he couldn’t land, so instead he set you up to fail, a wicked gleam in his eyes as you swapped places again.
“Hey!” You cried, seeing that Lonnie had not only blocked your solid balls with his stripes, but he’d also set the white ball up so it was right up against the cushions that lined the table - forcing you to contort yourself into an awkward angle to even stand a chance of hitting it.
You heard Lonnie’s laugh behind you and you pursed your lips though, you could feel the edges of your mouth tweaking up, his laughter contagious.
“Right, so how the hell am I supposed to do this?” You asked, arching you’re an eyebrow as you looked at the arrangement on the table.
“Up to you.” Lonnie shrugged, walking up behind you. “You could try to bounce it off the cushion to knock that one,” He pointed out one option, “or just hit that one there into a better position, so at least you hit something.”
You nodded, going for the safer option and just hitting the one solid that sat free on the table - though you knew you would be unable to pot in your position and you were forced to hold the cue high in the air and at an odd angle.
When you hit the ball however, your tip of your cue skidded along the white balls surface and sent it off at an odd angle, completely missing your target.
“Opps.” You muttered, watching it roll to a stop in a position you could see would be all too useful for Lonnie.
“Two shots for me!” Lonnie cheered.
“Wait, what, how?” You demanded.
“You didn’t hit anything – that means I get an extra shot.” He pointed out.
“Are you sure you’re not making these rules up as you go along - because it sure feels like it.”
“Nope.” He said with a grin. “Look it up.” He offered when you continued to look sceptical.
You grumbled but let him take his two shots. He missed both shots.
“Not so cocky now, are ya?” You taunted him with a wicked grin of your own, striding up to the table.
There was an easy shot there. You could do it.
You lined yourself up and struck.
“Yes!” You grinned in triumphant as the red ball fell into the pocket.
“Congratulations, you sunk your first ball.” Lonnie commended from the side lines.
“Thank you!” You drawled grandly, turning to line up your next shot. There was another easy shot ready - you were on a roll.
You watched as the black ball fell into the pocket. “Yes!” You beamed again.
“Congratulations, you just lost.”
Your face fell. “What?” You demanded, turning on Lonnie.
“You just sunk the black eight ball - but you haven’t sunk the rest of your balls yet - so you lose.” He said.
“Ok, now you’re are definitely making stuff up.”
He shook his head, “No, that’s the rules.”
“I’m gonna check this.” You warned, pulling out your phone.
A few minutes later you were still grumbling unhappily. “You know, I might be better at this if you actually told me all of the rules before we started playing.” You growled.
Lonnie shrugged playfully, “What’s the fun in that?” He teased, “Anyway, they always say you learn by doing.”
“This isn’t a life lesson.” You scowled, playfully smacking him on the arm. “This is just a game which I can’t play if you don’t tell me the rules!”
“Alright, alright. Rematch then.” Lonnie offered.
“Fine, but I’m reading these rules first - I’m already suffering from lack of skill, I’m not being disadvantaged any further.” You muttered, turning your attention back on your phone.
Lonnie left you to it, re-racking the balls again whilst he waited for you to finish.
“Happy?” He asked, when you approached the table again.
“Somewhat.” You allowed, turning your eyes on the triangle he had made.
“Now you know what you’re doing, do you want to make this more interesting?” He grinned.
You frowned warily, “In what way?”
“I’ve got five bucks in my pocket.” He pointed out.
“Congratulations.” You said dryly. “But you’ve played this way more than I have - I stand no chance of winning.
He smirked. “Then we won’t play to win - we play for a challenge.”
“How is that any fairer?”
“Ok, hear me out.” He said, holding up his hands. “You win if you can pot two of your balls before I pot all of mine.”
“I’m not sure whether I should be glad of the easy money - or offended that you think I’m that shit that you stand a chance.” You muttered with a scowl.
Lonnie just grinned at you. “Do you want to do it or not?”
You frowned at him as you thought about it. “Fine.” You said taking the hand he offered you and gripping it firmly, him reciprocating as you both glared competitively at each other.
Suddenly Lonnie pulled you closer. “Ladies first.” He purred seductively, completely taking you by surprise and you wrenched your hand away, glowering.
He wanted to play dirty? Let him.
You strode past him defiantly, lining up the shot to break the newly arranged triangle. You cracked the white ball, this time sending it with such a force that it sent the coloured balls careening off in various directions. Much to your disappointment, though, none of them fell into a pocket.
You gritted your teeth in annoyance, but knew you still had time to win.
“Thanks, doll…” Lonnie drawled as he walked past, and you scowled at his back.
In his turn he managed to pocket three of his seven balls, claiming himself as stripes once again.
It might only be five bucks, but it felt like more than that – there was a pride at stake as well.
You chewed the inside of your cheek as you surveyed the arrangement on the table. There was no clear shot, but you could try to be clever about this by bouncing the white off the cushion to get at one of your balls that would otherwise be unavailable.
It worked, except your white ball followed your solid into the pocket.
“Damn!” You cursed quietly to yourself.
“Ooo, bad luck – two-“
“- shots for you, yeah, yeah yeah.” You muttered bitterly turning away as he stepped forward again.
Lonnie managed to pocket another two balls.
He only had two left to get, and you hadn’t even managed one yet. You were getting frustrated as you stepped up to the table once again. You had to pocket at least something.
There. It was hidden slightly behind the black, but if you could hit it relatively straight, it would go in the pocket behind it.
“Think of it like a gun, doll,” Lonnie advised in your ear. “I know Frosty’s taught you how to use one. Look down the barrel, aim, fire.” He breathed, his warm breath tickling your skin.
You took a breath, tensed your jaw and made the shot.
You smacked the black eight ball, sending it rolling off to the side, but you ignored it, your eyes on the coloured ball you had been aiming for that – though you didn’t hit it exactly straight – you’d hit with enough speed that it still managed to slide rather smoothly into the pocket behind it.
You planned that. Of course.
“Yeeesss!” You cried gleefully, punching the air. “Finally!” You turned to Lonnie, “There was nothing against the rules in that, right?” You asked quickly.
“Well…”
“Shut up.” You punched him playfully.
He held his hands up with a cheeky grin. “All I’m saying is, if you shoot a gun like that I don’t wanna be anywhere near you with a loaded weapon.”
You scowled at him, though unable to stop you lips turning up into a half smile. Lonnie just grinned back. “Go on, it’s still your turn.” He said, gesturing back at the table. You stuck your tongue out at him before turning back and assessing the table again.
One more pocket that’s all you needed.
That five bucks would be yours.
You could see a possible shot. This could be it. You lined it up, struck the white ball, but then immediately realised you hadn’t hit it hard enough, the tap only sending your target ball halfway across the table before it slowed, rolling…
“Come on, come on…” You murmured watching it roll closer to the pocket.
It fell.
“YES!” You cried - probably far too excited, but you didn’t care - “I won!” You exclaimed in disbelief, staring at the pocket.
You turn to Lonnie. “That’s two, boy! Fork over the money!” You demanded, holding out a hand.
He was chuckling at your excitement and dug into his back pocket, pulling out a crumpled note and handing it over to you. “Congratulations, doll.”
“Thank you.” You said, pronouncing each word clearly. You took the note and straightened it out before waving it gleefully in the air and then slipping it into your trousers.
“Wanna play again?” Lonnie offered with a gleam in his eye.
“Why, you a sore loser?” You teased lightly.
“No, I just think you’re almost a worthy opponent.” He ribbed back with a sly grin.
You scowled at him, then glanced at your watch. “It’s getting late, I probably ought to head off soon before my dad comes looking for me.” You confessed, laying your cue onto the green.
“Your excuse is you’re a daddy’s girl?” He asked, raising a mocking eyebrow.
You glowered at him. “Alright, big boy, put your money where your mouth is!” You growled.
“Only if you call me big boy again.” He teased wickedly.
You smacked him, but he just grinned wider at you. “Alright, doll, but how about we play for something other than money?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “Like what?”
“A kiss?” He grinned suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.
You rolled your eyes. Trust him. “Uh – no.” You scoffed.
“Why not, huh? Scared you’ll lose?” He taunted.
“No.” You protested. “I – uh – just –“
Lonnie picked up your cue. “Come on, dolly….” He goaded, wiggling the stick in the air. “Say, same rules as last time…?”
“What happens if I win?” You asked.
“You mean you don’t want a kiss?” He cried in faux-shock. You gave him an unimpressed look. “Alright,” He conceded, “what do ya want?”
You thought about this for a moment. “You know what,” You grinned cheekily, “I think just depriving you of this opportunity is enough.”
He pursed his lips at this as he mulled it over, but you could see the humour continued to shine in his eyes, excited at the challenge. “Fine.” He agreed with a nod. “You’re in then?” He confirmed, holding out his hand for a second time that night.
“I’m in.” You stated, taking his hand and hoping you weren’t going to regret this.
You took the cue from Lonnie, going to break without asking – not willing to give him any chance to pocket multiple balls at once if you could help it.
You watched as one ball into particular broke from the group and rolled dangerously close to a pocket. You held your breath - wondering if you were going to land one this early on - but it stopped too early, just shy of the pocket - ready for a bump of the table to knock it in. You were tempted, but you didn’t want to give Lonnie any chance to call you a cheat and make you forfeit.
Lonnie was up then, barely wasting any time before he had had aimed and potted the one you had left lingering on the edge of a hole.
You scowled. So, he was solids this time, and you were stripes.
You just hoped this wasn’t a bad omen.
Lonnie went to take the next shot and potted again, but luckily missed the next one.
Your turn.
There was one ball just off at a slight angle from one of the corner pocket, if you could hit it at an angle you could get it in, but you needed a fair amount of speed to keep it straight and get it across the distance.
You threw back and smacked it. The ball cracked, shooting across the table and smoothly rolled into the pocket. Your heart leapt in triumph, but then plummeted when you watched the white ball followed in after it.
“Tough luck, chuck.” Lonnie simpered, though it was ruined with his wide grin as he leant down to fish the white ball out of the table.
“Shut up and play.” You growled, moving away.
This just seemed to amuse him even more.
The crack of the balls colliding together filled the room as the two of you continued to play. Lonnie had potted another two, bringing him to a total of four out of seven. You had so far missed, but it was your turn again.
There was a straight line between one of your balls and the top right pocket, but to get the right angle to line up the white ball you found yourself practically climbing onto the table. You were stretched across the green, sucking in your stomach to avoid knocking any of the remaining balls on the table and attempting to get into a position to still be able to move the cue well enough to strike.
“Gotta say, I can’t argue with the view,” Lonnie suddenly piped up from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder at him with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow at his bold flirt, before returning your concentration to your target. “But,” He continued, “you could just shoot behind your back.
You pulled back, standing back upright again. “Shoot what?” You said, surprised.
Lonnie showed you what he meant, sliding the cue behind his back and leaning against the table, his head over his shoulder as he lined up the cue. It looked interesting, sure, but also maybe rather uncomfortable, though it would mean you didn’t have to climb on the table.
You snorted. “I can barely play regular pool, let alone trying to do it with my back to the table.” You pointed out, stubbornly returning to your previous position.
You were consciously aware of Lonnie’s eyes on you, but you tried to ignore it, focusing on the end of your cue. You pulled back to strike, when a new voice called out from the other side of the room. “This is where you two are?”
You jumped at the familiar growl, knocking the balls on the table you had been trying to avoid, and your shot going wide. You quickly scrambled upright, turning to face the Joker as he strode across the room, both you and Lonnie looking guilty as hell.
“I’ve had Frosty bugging me for the last hour because you two are hiding in here playing pool?!” The Joker demanded moodily, his eyes flickering between the two of you.
You and Lonnie exchanged glances. You were frightened stiff of the possibility of an impending punishment from either the Joker or your dad, but Lonnie’s eyes still twinkled with his usual humour. You glared at him.
“Well, I’m sure Frosty will be relieved.” The Joker muttered. “You’d better be off home, doll.” He grumbled at you, running a hand through his hair.
You nodded and went to place the cue back on the table. Lonnie stepped towards you as you did so, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Before you leave, I want my prize.”
“Why would you get your prize?” You demanded in a harsh whisper, “You didn’t win!” You snapped, forgetting the Joker was stood behind the two of you.
“You messed up the table – that’s a forfeit.” Lonnie pointed out.
“Only because I got startled!” You protested.
“Still counts.” He shrugged.
“No it doesn’t!”
“Yes it does.”
“No –“
“What,” The Joker snapped loudly, both of us instantly shutting up. “are you two arguing about?”
You didn’t say anything, your face turning red just at the idea of admitting what the prize of your little bet was. Lonnie however, seemed to have no such shame.
“Me and [Y/N] place a bet.” He told his dad. “If I won – which I did,” He pointed out with a glance at me, “- she has to kiss me.”
“And if she won?” The Joker growled, raising his eyebrows in question. You could see a familiar gleam in his eye.
“He got no such pleasure.” I grumbled, folding my arms moodily. The Joker laughed loudly, the noise echoing around the empty room.
“But, she knocked the balls, so she lost.” Lonnie pointed out, unfazed by his dad’s haunting mirth.
“But it was only because you surprised me, sir.” You appealed to the Joker. “I don’t lose until all the striped balls are in the pockets.”
The Joker’s eyes darted between us. “Is that so?” He mused. He then suddenly stepped forward, taking the cue off me. I offered no resistance. The Joker then stepped up to the table, assessing it for only a moment before he lined up his shot and knocked ball after ball into the pocket - stripes and solids alike - but never hitting those he didn’t mean to. You soon realised he wasn’t even hitting the balls as they became available, but was in fact potting them in numerical order - except for the eight ball.
The Joker didn’t miss a single ball, moving fluidly around the table, taking shot after shot and somehow hitting those you would have deemed impossible, bouncing them between each other and off the cushions - he even chipped one ball, so it hopped over the black eight that blocked its path, and then rolled smoothly into the nearest pocket.
The Joker then righted himself briefly - only the black eight ball now left on the green - and shifted around the table, barely seeming to line up his shot before he sharply and neatly potted this ball as well.
For extra measure, he shot the white in after it.
The Joker tossed the cue down onto the table and turned back to the two of us. “Game over, kids.” He growled. “Decide a winner and go to bed.” He muttered before striding out of the room.
You turned to Lonnie in shock at what had just happened, but, before you could say a word, his hands were on either side of your face and he pulled your lips to his. Your eyes widened in surprise at his urgent, almost harsh kiss, but you couldn’t seem to pull away, his lips dominating yours and fogging your mind till you couldn’t even remember where you were.
When Lonnie realised you weren’t pulling away from him, his kiss softened. You were both as lost as each other now, and you felt yourself step closer to him as his hands relaxed on your face, one sliding down to your neck as the other tangled in your hair. Your hands gripped at his shirt, holding on tightly like it was the only thing anchoring you to the real world.
You finally had to pull back to breath and you gazed straight at Lonnie as you gasped for air - glad to see him in just as much of a state as you were. You were suddenly aware that you were still holding onto to him and you immediately released your grip, stepping back in embarrassment, his hands slipping from you.
“Um – uh – I – I gotta go.” You explained, pointing in the direction of the door.
“Right…” He said, sounding as dazed as you felt.
You gave him a shy smile and then headed for the door offering a small wave of goodbye, which Lonnie reciprocated, before you headed home to be yelled at by your dad.
The clown prince gripped the steering wheel tight with one hand and kept his other on your bare thigh. His gold bracelet he inherited from his father almost made you jump at the cold touch. But he had a firm grip on you, keeping you in place.The sky was almost pitch black over Gotham besides the green lights shining from where his club was. Harley and Joker's son and heir was carving out his own piece of history. His very own club downtown from his parents was all his, he was feeling more powerful than usual tonight. You could feel it radiating off his body... but
your nerves were still shot. It wasn’t just the opening night for the club but it was the first time you’d meet his father. You knew you loved him more than anything but the Joker was infamous for being unpredictable… and infamous for hating anyone who came near his children. You have heard countless stories of what he had done to the people his daughter brought home. Got first hand accounts of what the man next to you did to them. Even saw it first hand when other guys tried to hit on you. It wasn’t long before your Prince became the executioner in the kingdom. Part of you felt reassured, if Joker did like you then you’d be protected from anything and anyone. If.
“What is it?” his deep and gravelly voice asked moving his hand from your leg up to the back of your neck. Him stroking your skin made you squirm, but you loved it.
“You sure this is the right time? To meet your father?” you mumbled. As soon as the words left your mouth you felt on edge. You reached down near your feet and got your purse, pulling lipstick out of it and applying to keep busy.
The clown prince began to cackle, “Don’t be so nervous. What I say goes tonight, even against the clown king” he put his hand back on your thigh and squeezed it, tickling you. You joined him in laughter. He had a silent confidence and ease about him that calmed you.
Unlike his father he didn’t talk much, but his body language spoke more for him. Whether it was a sensual touch on your skin or his knuckles getting bloodied from beating the flesh of someone who crossed him. His eyes told the story and always harvested something. Even sitting and driving was a thrill with a man like him.
He saw your laugh and was captivated seeing the red lips over the pearly whites. One thing he had in common with his father was not being able to control extreme urges once they pumped through his veins. He began to swirl his fingers around your skin and move them further and further up your leg until they were beneath your skirt. You giggled and moved them away pointing out the window. You had arrived at the club.
You both stepped out of the car swinging your leather jackets around yourselves. He forcefully wrapped his arm around your back taking the opposite side of your waist in his hand. The smarter people stood still and smiled as the two of you approached. The more timid hid their faces afraid nothing would be the right move. Your lover stopped in his tracks and looked up at the building before him, breathing in and out deeply. You were freed from his grasp when he reached into his pocket to grab a cigarette and rested it on his lips. Before he could pull a lighter out you snapped the lip of your zippo back and ignited it for him. He smiled wickedly breathing the smoke through his nose. In an instant his lips were connected to yours and the remaining smoke filled your mouth. You pulled away and blew it back in his face, both of your smiles now stretching ear to ear. The people around you got the hint and made their way into the club leaving the clown prince and his own princess alone in the parking lot.
His passion was in full force and he couldn’t fight it, he was raised not to fight it. He grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side of the building. Finding a part in the shadows out of the green light. Your back hit the side of the building and the pressure of his body was up against you. He was like a wild animal kissing your neck and breathing in your scent. You reached down to his belt and pulled him even closer in a quick rush. He almost lost his footing at the surprise of it.
“That’s my girl” he whispered into your ear kissing it softly. You returned the favor and moved your lips to his ear. Giving it a playful bite and leaving your mark.
The sound of a bottle crashing to the sidewalk make you dart your eyes over. A drunken man could barely stand but he was staggering along. He caught your eyes and saw you watching him. Your lover continued to pay attention to your neck and kiss you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders hoping to ignore the passerby. Then the whistle echoed in the empty lot.
“Hey th..there sweetheart” he was so drunk he was stumbling over his words. “How about give me some of that love?”
The hot breathed left your lover and gave your goosebumps. The growling soon followed and you felt his abs tense up against your stomach. He moved his head away from yours and used the wall behind you to push up right. He walked backwards slowly being revealed by the green light inch by inch.
“What you gonna do big guy?” the drunk man raged throwing his fist in the air.
The clown prince began to exhale and let out an agonizing slow and ear piercing laugh. When he turned his head into the green light the man realized his mistake. No matter how much alcohol was in his blood stream he sobered up fast.
If you were dating any other man you might be afraid. Afraid of him getting into a fight or getting hurt or hurting the other man and facing the consequences. But you were with the Joker’s son. Nothing could touch him. Thinking about the power turned you on more than any neck kisses. Both he and the drunk man stood silently staring at each other. Before he raised his hand up to his skull imitating a gun shot. He began to dance like a king’s jester over to the man who was now visibly shaking. You heard the crunch of the glass shards beneath your lover’s boots as he pranced through them up to the man.
“Si...si...sir I didn’t mean.. I didn’t know it was you and…” before he could finish a golden knife went through the bottom of his chin and through his face. His wide eyes lost all life and the blood seeped through.
He pulled his knife out of the man and let the body fall to the ground. You began walking over to him and didn’t hesitate to pull a napkin out from your purse and take the knife. Wiping the blood off the golden edges and letting the blood droplets land on the lifeless man.
“Wouldn’t want it to stain now would we?” you snickered.
The clown prince was breathing viciously. “I should have taken it slower and made him suffer” he said in a fury.
Now it was your turn to calm him down. As much as the jealousy and anger turned you on, you didn’t want to see him upset.
“Don’t let him take up anymore of your night. Remember who you are huh? The clown prince.”
You snuck the knife back into its holster in his leather jacket before running your fingers over his abs and around his waist. You felt the tension leave him and he took your face in his lands and kissed you, making sure to run his tongue over your lips, tasting the lipstick.
“Well well well….” an old familiar voice made him shoot his head up. “Is my son just going to keep me waiting? What kind of manners are those?”
The Joker stood tall and stoic in the doorway of the club. The green light reflecting off his gold chains. His purple cane tapped on the ground as his eyes moved over to you. They were icy blue and immediately seemed to trap you. The similarities between him and your lover were blatant. But the differences were still somewhat a mystery.
“What’s up dad?” he said with a genuine smile.
“You apparently” the Joker hissed back before throwing his head back laughing. You both giggled at his joke and took a step back from each other.
“Dad I’d like you to meet..”
“Oh I know who she is…. Come on son you really think I wouldn’t?”
You and your lover looked nervously at each other. You could feel your heart beginning to beat faster. In a flash you saw a young girl appear next to Joker and rest her head on his shoulder. She was dressed in a glamorous red and black dress ready to celebrate. Like the Joker, you instantly recognized her. The clown princess. Her piercing eyes matched her father's but they looked more unhinged as they did beautiful. She had a cryptic smile plastered on her face. You were unable to tell if it was sincere or not. But you knew how closer her and her brother were and how much he cared about her, so you liked her without a second thought.
“Go easy on them daddy, I like her! And mom says she’s sweet” she said loud enough to make sure you heard her.
Mom you repeated to yourself in your head. Joker, Harley Quinn, and their daughter already knew about you.
“Thank you for the input sweetheart” Joker said sarcastically.
“You’re welcome. Now come on already I want to dance” she sneered in her brother’s direction teasing him. He squinted and smirked back.
The clown king began walking over to you, his long purple coat swaying behind him. Your chest was rising quickly and you tried to hold your breath but the sight was very intimidating.
“Don’t worry” he said directly to you. “I can appreciate a girl with a good smile… and a respect for gold. I assume I don’t need an introduction?”
You shook your head trying to appease him and gave a grand smile. Your man took your hand in his and ran his thumb over yours for comfort.
“Then let’s go inside and celebrate my son. We have a lot to talk about”.
Request: (anonymous) Can you do a head cannon of the clown prince meeting you and being smitten by the reader
You get all dressed up in a new sequined black dress to go to the Joker’s club, as you wait out in line you get more and more nervous having never been there or even seen the Joker and Harley before.
A black lamborghini trimmed in red roars down the road and comes to a stop right out of the front of the club, your body is torn between being envious and frightened of who's inside.
Bouncers in black suits and gold,mocking batman masks rush to the door to open it, but the man inside swings it open himself and waves them away. Not the Joker, but his son steps out.
The clown prince takes a deep breath, not wanting to go in and entertain for another night with all his father’s ‘associates’. He swings his leather jacket over his shoulder and tosses his keys to Frost to park it.
He stops dead in his tracks when he see’s you shivering cold in the line in your new dress, he instantly recognizes your face as one who’s new and naive to the workings of his world.
He’s overcome by something he hasn’t felt before, but he shakes his head and get’s the deer in headlights look off himself and smirks at you before heading inside.
You stand in line still waiting, feet hurting from your heels before a bouncer walks up to you and gestures for you to follow him inside. You nervously accept and go with him.
The clown prince’s heart begins to race when he see’s you again, he confidently walks right up to you but when he reaches you, he’s lost at what to do next like the sight of you has stolen the breath from his lungs.
He swings his leather jacket around to you when he see’s you still trying to warm your arms.
His eyes are intoxicating, half saying not to be afraid and half saying it’ll be bad if you don’t accept, you take the jacket.
The clown prince walks away overwhelmed with what he just did and not wanting to push you, he’s cocky but not as forward and demanding as his father.
You put the jacket on to get warm and confused, walk over to the bar to get a drink and relax. You feel his eyes on you and can’t get him out of your head.
You blush thinking about the man you just saw, and already pickering your fingers run through his green hair, his hands gripping your thighs, what his pale lips taste like.
He lingers along the golden beads across the club watching your every move and memorizing your body. He can’t stop imagining what he’d do to you, but moreso what you’d do to him.
He keeps wishing you’d turn around so he can see your face again, it gave him comfort that maybe there is some softness in the world and someone could look at him more than the heir to a villainous empire.
The Joker spots his son from his VIP booth, he recognizes the look on his face, and knows his son if going through what he went through that fateful day at Ace Chemicals.
You’re so entranced thinking about the clown prince that you don’t even notice the man coming up to you.
He offers to buy you a drink and tells you you’re beautiful, you decline and your face suggests you’re not interested at all but he persists and you try walking away.
The clown prince is infuriated that this man won’t leave you alone and you feel like you have to leave instead of him.
His infamous temper comes out even though he’s been trying to suppress it, he marches up in front of you, stopping you from going anywhere.
He almost loses his breath looking at you again, but clears his throat and asks if the guy is bothering you.
It dawns on you that you know him, but he doesn’t know you and yet he’s trying to help. You tell him yes being inspired by his confidence
The clown prince walks over and the man is already shaking in his shoes realizing his mistake. He tries to apologize but the pale hands of the Joker’s heir are already wrapped around his throat and slamming his head into the bar.
You hear the Joker’s laughter from the distance and realize the clown prince is a lot like his father, but how protective and defensive of you he’s being is a turn on you can’t resist.
The clown prince walks over to you with bloodied hands, seeing you instantly calming him down. He has this animalistic instinct to protect you and is completely infatuated by you.
All the violence sends a clear message that you are not familiar with this underground world but something about him is pulling you and making you feel safe.
You laugh out of nervousness and because you just realized the two of you don’t know each other’s names, his eyes and smile light up when he sees you giggling.
You take off his jacket that he gave you and extend it to him and he takes it, not looking away from you, and wipes the blood off his hands with it then tosses it on the body near his feet.
He thinks about picking you up and taking you into the back room when he see’s your body in the dress again while you’re thinking about his pale and veiny hands running all over you.
“Would you like a drink?” he says in a deep but smooth voice, hearing it sealing your fate with him.
Request: (anonymous) Can I request for the clown prince to get angry and then he and reader have makeup sex?
The clown prince acts very cocky but you are his one weakness, he always worries you will find a better man so he is very territorial and jealous. He inherits it from his father who was jealous out of entitlement vs his jealous out of insecurity.
He takes you out for drinks at the club and keeps his hand on your leg occasionally tracing his fingertips along your skin up your dress.
He makes sure to grab your chin and kiss you when he see’s men looking at you, letting them all know your his.
You get fed up, feeling like you’re being shown off as a prize and move his hand off of you.
The clown prince can’t take men staring at you and not being able to touch you and show his dominance to them. He thinks you’ve pushed him away because you’re not interested.
His infamous temper comes out of him and he lunges at an admirer across the room and begins to beat him senseless.
You storm away furious, he notices you gone and with bloodies fists runs after you through the club. Unlike his father he realizes his mistakes.
You see a group of men eyeing you by the bar, you know it’s your chance to make him jealous and make him angry like you just were. But you turn around because you love him and say fuck it to everything else.
The men don’t want you going so easily and grab your arm. As you try and pull away you see your clown prince dive into the crowd of them and start tearing them apart like a wild animal.
The clown prince smiles again after seeing you turn down the opportunity, becoming cocky all over again being reassured of your love.
While he’s strangling the life out of one of the men, the other get’s up ready for revenge but you pull out your own golden knife that your prince gifted you and slit his throat.
The clown princes eyes and body tell two different stories. His body exhumes anger but his eyes have an innocence in them. He is the perfect conflict between the Joker’s viciousness and his own sensitivity.
Both of you look at each other, covered in blood and out of breath. You don’t need to say anything to each other, the clown prince’s eyes always do the talking for him.
He picks you up and swings you over his shoulder, grabbing your ass and squeezing slightly as he makes his way to the back room of the club. The room has been here since the beginning, with a bed that Joker and Harley used to visit before they even had kids.
He throws you on the bed and you land on your back, putting your feet up to his belt and unbuckling with your toes.
He wastes no time and grabs your ankles and spreads your legs apart. He runs his hands up your thighs, leaving bloody fingerprints on your skin.
He lifts your dress up and admires the tattoo on your abdomen that he gave to you. He thinks about the new tattoo he can give you were everyone can see it.
He traces it with his tongue as he slides your panties off, he doesn’t want to take his attention away from you so you struggle to get them off your legs yourself.
He enjoys watching you squirm as he hovers over you and moves towards your face. He uses his thumb to wipe your red lipstick across your cheek. You use your finger to wipe some off yourself then spread on his lips.
You run your fingers through his green hair and pull the locks down so they’re hanging in front of his eyes.
He takes a moment to breath and forget his anger, reminding himself that he is the clown prince and he won’t let anyone take you from him. Admitting to himself that he might not ever let you leave him on your own.
You push his leather jacket off his shoulders and let his own gold chains around his neck drop down. He rips the front of your dress open and their cold touch on your breasts gives you goose bumps all over.
He refuses to let you be on top, wanting to feel in control and possessing the entire time.
When he’s first inside of you he holds still and stares deep in your eyes so you can feel him, he get’s excited just on the idea that he is in you and you’re not going anywhere.
He takes your chin in his hand and kisses your lips. Telling you to remember who’s girl you are without saying a word.
After each thrusts he stops so you both can feel each other, remembering how the fight started and letting all his insecurities wash away.
You put your hand on his chest and over his heart, feeling it beating and reminding him that he may be the clown prince but he is still human. He is more in touch with that side than his father.
You wrap your legs around his back and pull his head into your neck, letting him have control but loving to feel like you possess him too. Realizing you really are made for each other.
He cums inside of you, the idea of being a part of you and owning you making him finish.
You finishing on the idea of him loving you own you.
You can see the anxiety the blood is giving him, his bursts of anger always give him a high but after he begins to regret them.
You both go to the shower where you wash the blood off of each other and make love again.
So I was thinking about writing a fanfic about a dream I had so it will be OC, Joker’s Son X Reader (smut), and I was wondering what you guy’s think, should I do it??
