Today: Penance

>> ARROW [5x4] 

“Oliver and Lyla team up on a secret mission for Diggle. Felicity finds out and disapproves of the plan and opts to stay behind. When Tobias Church launches a deadly assault against the city, Felicity must decide if she wants to send the recruits out sans the Green Arrow….“ 

>> [5x3] - A Matter of Trust
>> [5x2] - The Recruits
>> [5x1] - Legacy


But helped make you special. - Clark Kent/Superman

Art by Stephen Segovia

How is it that we can go from years and years of lackluster Superman stories to instantly having both Action Comics and Superman be some of the best the character has ever had? I do think that having the original Superman gone for a while has made us appreciate him more though.

The Joker x Reader  “Spice it up”

You like to keep things sexy and interesting for Mister J. He loves to be spoiled and thinks he’s entitled to it. Is he?…

J is not a morning person. He hates it when you schedule early business meetings. He hates that you have so much energy from the second you wake up. He hates it that he wants to stay upset with you for the rest of the day and he can’t. He hates everything. A real ray of sunshine…

You hear his steps dragging on the marble floor. You are cooking breakfast wearing nothing but your pink t-shirt and black boy shorts. You turn around and there he is in all his morning glory, fresh out of the shower: one eye closed, the other half open, just enough to see where he’s going, black sweatpants really low on his hips, he didn’t even bother to pull them up (which you don’t mind), messy green hair and pouty lips. If you actually look in the dictionary to see the definition of “shitty morning”, you will find his picture there.

“Morning, Puddin,” you smile, turning back to your skillet, waiting for it to get hot so you can start cooking the eggs and bacon.

You hear a mumble that kind of sounded like a greeting.

“I’m making your favorite,” you giggle, turning around just to see him seated on his chair, arms crossed on his chest, eyes closed now. You pour some coffee in a mug and take it to him.

“Here, baby, coffee.”

“I don’t want that. I want a mocca,”  he replies with raspy, low voice, without even looking at you, kind of dozing off.

You take deep breath, keeping your cool. Thanks for telling me in advance.

You start making his mocca and in the meantime get on with the cooking too. Mister J really needs to wake up so you just insert your iphone in the speaker system and say:

“Play Zara Larson: Bad boys.” The song starts. “Lauder. Lauder,” you command.

The surround sound really kicks in and the base makes everything shake a little bit. He grunts, unhappy, until he opens his eyes and notices you shake your hips in front of the stove in your tiny little boy shorts.

“Hmmm,” he stretches a bit, finally standing up straight in his chair. He knew you would do this and was waiting for it. You always put up little shows for him when he has to wake up early. You start dancing more, shaking your booty to the rhythm and sing a bit, facing him.

“I said there’s something ‘bout the bad boys
That makes the good girls
Fall in Love”

He snickers: “Since when you’re a good girl, Princess?” Oh, wow, is that a…smile?! The end of the world is coming, brace yourselves.

You just move your lips to soundlessly utter: “RUUUDE.”

Taking a quick glance to make sure nothing is burning; you drop to the ground and seductively crawl to his chair, still maintaining the rhythm of the song. You get on your knees between his legs and plant a kiss on his abdomen, right on his smiley tattoo and also steal a quick kiss when he looks down to see what you’re doing. J tries to grab you but you back out very fast, sliding your tush on the marble.

“Awwwww, sooo slow,” you giggle when the Joker growls at you, upset he couldn’t reach you in time.

“Com’ere doll!”

“Hold on, my eggs are burning,” you laugh, going back to the stove, but still shaking your hips because you know this wakes him up. He can never figure out how you take your lingerie off unnoticed. This must be a really special talent you have. He didn’t see your arms awkwardly move or anything, but suddenly you turn around and your cute lacy bra lands in his lap. He carefully watched and you still managed to surprise him.

“Want some toast with that, Puddin?” you wink, satisfied at your little trick. It’s not really a trick, it just takes practice.

“Yes, I do,” he fully grins now, wide awake. “Pumpkin, you really know how to work your magic,” he purrs, playing with your bra. “Daddy likes it.”

“Happy to oblige, Puddin. You can call me… Hoe-dini.

He bursts out laughing. “HA,HA,HA,Ha,Ha,Ha,Ha! That’s a good one, doll!

His crazy laugh makes you laugh too. Yes, he might be the Clown but you think you’re funnier. You never told him that, of course.

“Food is done” you announce, turning off the music and bringing the plates to the table.

He always eats on the chair and you always eat sitting on the table to his left, holding your plate. “Why?” you would ask. Because The Joker likes to place his phone in your lap and watch the news, this way he gets a good… view of everything he wants to see. The things you do for this man! You didn’t eat breakfast normally at the table since like…forever. If you try to sit by him like a normal person, he would create such a fuss. The bright side is that from time to time he would unconsciously caress your legs while concentrating on his phone or lean his face on your thighs while chewing on his toast and you kind of found that adorable. Yeap, you’re crazy too. Self-diagnosis, not that you’re a doctor or anything.


J loves to see you dress up in fancy business suits for the morning meetings - the ones with a short skirt and a jacket. It makes you look so smart and sophisticated. He has a thing for that. In the same time, he knows how much it turns you on when he wears a tux so that’s what he is going to wear today: one of his fancy tuxes. You wouldn’t catch Frost without a suit even dead, so all three of you look very sharp heading towards the secret location for the gathering. All the other partners have been aware of what you guys expect for a very long time and since you set up the pace, they all show up in business attire too. Here you all are, the worse of the worst: a bunch of criminals planning murders, heists, kidnappings, blackmails and God knows what else looking like you are attending some big, legit corporation business meeting. Batsy would lock you all up at Arkham and throw away the key.

You always sit by J, of course, behind the Mahoney desk you two stole from the Bank of Gotham. It’s your personal favorite for many reasons. Without anyone noticing, you like to take his hand under the desk and slowly brush it up your inner thighs, then trap it in between. The Joker stays like that for a bit, but then he feels the urge to caress your skin with his thumb and that makes you squeal. Ticklish.

You start coughing a bit so it won’t look suspicious and then here comes the question:

“So what do you think, J?” someone asks.

Both of you look puzzled, completely unaware of what it was talked a minute before but you know you are the one that has to take the heat. You release your trap so Mister J can pull his hand out from between your legs. Tonight you will probably pay for distracting him.


They began looking through building plans and when the Joker gets to his little pile of papers, you see his mouth going: ”Oh!” You smirk: he found it.

The Joker is intrigued: here is your skimpy little g-string right there between the sheets. He put it on you himself back at the house and you didn’t leave his sight since. You sure have an interesting talent.

“My little naughty Hoedini,” he thinks, pleased to find the present, glancing at you with a wild grin on his face. You just chew on your cheek, pretending not to notice, going over your own documentation. He then nonchalantly takes your gift and stuffs it in his tuxedo’s pocket, leaving a bit of it hang on the outside, just like it was a handkerchief.


You were right: as soon as you got back home, you had to pay for distracting him at the meeting.

The Joker is already loading all the guns and his eyes follow your movements around the living room: you can barely walk, trying to put together the grenades and smoke bombs. Ah, the gratification he feels building inside his chest knowing he’s the reason for your…misfortune. Jerk!

“Why so quiet, Kitten?” he lifts his invisible eyebrows, delighted to mock you.

“Shut up, J” you mumble, trying to walk straight with your noodle legs.

“Wanna dance for me again?” he giggles.

“Leave me alone,” you pout, annoyed.

“Wanna stay home tonight and…recover?” The tone in his voice, wow, what a nerve.

“Noap, I’m going.”

“Are you mad at me?”  Arrogant! Not that he cares.

You don’t bother answering; you just take your duffle bag full of explosives and head out to go wait in the car. You hear him shout:

“You know I don’t like to be ignored! Want me to punish you again?”

“Go ahead, I’m gonna be numb for a month anyway!!” you shout back, irritated.

How it antagonizes you to hear him laugh so full of himself.

He heard the bone crack when you fell. One of the guards on the floor had the audacity to grab your leg and trip you when you passed by. You screamed in pain and the Joker lost it: he shot the man right way, plus three more around him because why not. Robbing the largest bank in Gotham should have ended without crazy events. Well, too late now.


You broke your left arm in two places. J never saw you cry until that night. You really must have been in terrible pain and he felt something weird weighting on his heart. It made him miserable seeing you like that. How weird…He tried to brush away the feeling but he found it impossible.

For the past week you were mostly in bed, cast on your arm, bad mood, pain killers and all the fun stuff.


The Joker gave you a piggy back ride downstairs and now you are in the kitchen, sitting in his chair while he fumbles around with things all over the counter, total chaos.

“What are you doing, Puddin?” you ask, grouchy.

“Cooking for you, Princess.”

Oh, crap, no! He’s a terrible cook. Why must you be punished again, didn’t you go through enough already?!

“So…what are you cooking?” you swallow the lump in your throat, willing to break another bone than eat what he’s making.

“Not sure,” he grumbles. That’s reassuring.

He notices the distressed look on your face and mistakes it for physical pain. He comes over to give you a kiss and then he lingers close to you lips, whispering:

“Pick your song, Pumpkin.”

You look in his blue eyes, confused.


“Pick.Your.Song.” he emphasizes each word, winking.”And don’t tell anybody, ever! I mean it!” Is he really going to?…

“Play Madonna- Girl gone wild,” you say, opening your mouth in anticipation. The song starts on the speakers. OMFG, no way!

Mister J starts flirtatiously moving his hips to the beat, and you suddenly feel revived. He takes of his shirt and tosses it at your head. You start laughing, completely surprised by his performance. You remove the shirt, keeping it in your lap and continue to watch how he dances for you, trying to imitate what you usually do for him. It’s hilarious but in the same time he’s not too bad at all.

He’s coming towards you, crawling at your feet and he grins at you as he gets on his knees to kiss you. You let out a soft moan as you touch his lips, trying to put your arms around his neck so you can pull him closer. He backs out fast before you can hold on to him.

“You’re sooooo slow, baby doll.”

Jerk, he’s paying you back.

He grinds against you, takes off his pants, and…what’s this hanging from the side of his boxers?!

“Holy shit, Pumpkin, how did you do this?” he stops dancing, pulling out your bikini.

Hoedini strikes again.


Food is ready. You brace for the worst, trying to lift yourself on the table to your usual spot. It’s kind of hard without a hand. You feel his arms around your waist, not helping you up but placing you down on the chair.

“Here, doll, you sit.”         That’s a first.

J is the one to get on the table and sit to your left, carefully taking your casted arm and placing it on his lap so you can relax it and eat with the other hand. You feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes and you try to keep them in.

Needless to say this is the best food you ever had, even if his cooking is as terrible as expected. He showed you he cared and that’s all you wanted.

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