The Joker X Drunk Reader
You were supposed to have a drink or two, but…a girl needs more than that sometimes. It’s a shame Mister J doesn’t see it the same way. T___T
The Joker’s business meeting extended more than anticipated. You are getting bored. It must be 2 AM already because the club cleared up.
“Move, doll, I can’t feel my legs,” J asks you and you get off his lap, stretching a bit yourself.
“Puddin, can I go have a drink? I didn’t have any alcohol in so long, I really want something.”
“Pleaseeee? Come on, just one drink. Pleaseeeee.”
“Fine,” he scoffs, because he doesn’t want to look like a total ass in front of the guys in the VIP room. “But just one cocktail, maximum two. That’s it, OK?”
“Yes, sir!” you salute, happy you can finally get out of there. He gropes you and then slaps your butt pretty hard, making you take a few small steps ahead.
The men snicker, and he just grins, pleased with himself. Show off!
Another hour passes and Frost comes in, looking a bit worried, and whispers something in Mister J’s ear.
“Crap,” the Joker thinks and inhales deeply, visibly annoyed. “Well, gentlemen, I guess that’s it for now. It’s settled then.”
“Yes, J, we’re good, you are going to like your share.”
“I hope so,” he growls. They come to shake his hand but he doesn’t flinch. He keeps both his hands on his cane and they get the message. After the last person leaves, he stands up and tells Frost to bring his Purple Lamborghini in front of the club.
You lost count on how many drinks you had. You feel lightheaded, but happy as hell and in love with the whole world right now. The barman is the only one around, keeping you company and trying to calm you down after she told you you’re cut off.
“Whaaaatttt?” you pout,” you know this is my boyfriend’s club. I can drink more if I want to.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Y/N, but Frost said no more.”
“My Frosty said that?” you open your mouth in disbelief. “Traitor!” you pout again.
You wipe your face with your hand, smearing some make-up all over.
“Whatever then, I’m probably’n big trouble… already,” your speech is pretty slurry, but you try your best to control it. “ Lemme tell (hiccup) you some’ing.” You lean over the glass counter, almost falling on your face.
“Ooppps,” you barely balance yourself back with the bartender’s help. “Like I was saying…what was I saying?” The bartender just lifts her shoulders, amused. She never saw you like this before.
“In case you were wondering, Mister J is a beast in bed, he sure ‘nows how to make a woman happy. Like…oh my God, he can go forever, not that I’m ‘omplaining,” you wink at the bartender, wondering why she suddenly has that scared look on her face. “Don’t be afraid, he’s not goin’ to (hiccup) do anything to you. He has me for THAT,” you laugh like crazy, tilting to the side, almost falling from the high bar stool. Something is not quite right. What is the bartender staring at? You turn to look and…
“Ohhhh, hiiiii-aaaiiiii Puddinnnnn… You look so handsome. Isn’t he handsome?” you giggle, trying not to look so drunk.
J’s eyes are burning holes through you.
“Get your ass over here, NOW!” his voice is menacing and it would normally freeze you in fear, but now you just don’t give a shit.
“Yes, sir!” you agree, obedient. “I think I really did it this time,” you pucker your lips, hopping off your chair. It’s a miracle you landed on your feet.
You stop in front of him and he just yanks your hand, dragging you towards the exit, mad as hell. That’s why he doesn’t like you to drink alcohol; he can’t stand the stupid stuff you do and say.
“Auuchhhh, don’t pull me like thaattt,” you whine, stumbling on your high heels. “You’re hurting meeeee.”
“Shut up, Y/N! Move it!” Uh-oh, he called you by name. You’re in real trouble now.
“Puddinnnn, are you mad at me?” you fake cry, sniffling, wiping invisible tears from your eyes.
“Yes, I am! A drink, maximum two, huh?” he yells, deciding to grab you by the waist, lifting you so he can carry you himself since you can’t really walk.
“ Auchhhh, I think I sprained ma’ ankleeee,” you wince, wiping your face again, smearing even more make-up across your cheeks.
He bites his lower lip, aggravated, getting out of the club and telling Frost to drive.
“How the hell is that possible if I’m carrying you, hmm?”
You look down and realize your feet don’t touch the ground.
“Oohhh…oopsss…my bad Jayyyyy (hiccup).”
The Joker puts you down and helps you in the back sit, shoving you around because he feels he’s going to stop on the Gotham Bridge and give you a nudge over the edge. You can’t swim so that would be perfect.
Frost starts driving, looking in the mirror from time to time to see if you’re OK.
“Heyyy, Puddiiinn, what is this back sit remind you of?” You try to wink but you just close your eyes. “Do you remember that night when…achoo!” you sneeze and with no warning, you get your head close to his shoulder and wipe your nose on his green jacket.
His eyes widen with indignation.
“Are….you…KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW???!!!!” he snaps, wanting to punch your lights off so he doesn’t have to deal with you anymore. “On my new Gucci jacket???!!!!!” He pushes you away.
“Jeeeezzz, calm down, just get ‘nother one,” you furrow your eyebrows, not understanding what all the commotion is all about.
“Frosstyyyy, tell him to stop bein’ mean to meee,” you sigh, exasperated. Frost knows he’s dead if he opens his mouth so he keeps on driving, ignoring you.
“You guys suck, you’r’all the same,” you snort, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. “Jaaaaayyyyyy,” you try to get his attention. He just looks out the window, his jaw clenched; he feels he’s going to strangle you soon.
“Jaaaaayyyyyy, I wannn’ a baby, can we have a baby, pleeeeeease?” you beg, this time starting bawling for reals. “Why can’t be have a babbby?”
Frost almost laughs, but he covers his transgression with a cough.
“Y/N, shut it down or I’m going to shut it for you. Frost, gimme my gun!”
“Sir, please…She’s going to be fine in a few hours. Come on, boss, it’s Miss Y/N we’re talking about here,” Frost pleads, getting worried about your safety. J mumbles something not very nice for sure. You continue to cry and then you suddenly stop on your own. You take a deep breath, giving The Joker a dirty look.
“Thank God you’re my guardian angel, Frosty. Can you drive faster, please? I wanna get home so I can make love to him, this way we can have a baby,” you say, yawning, placing your head on Mister J’s lap. Apparently you have no regard for your well-being while inebriated.
Frost blinks nervously and the Joker’s jaw drops to the ground at the new brilliant idea you have. If he just reaches his hands and snaps your neck right now, no one will ever know. Before he can reply to your suggestion, Frost announces:
“We’re here, sir.”
“Yiipee, finally,” you clap your hands, lifting your head up. J gets out of the car first, coming around to get you. He forcefully pulls you out of the Lamborghini. You look up the tall building, opening your mouth in awe. You tilt your head backwards so much it makes you dizzy.
“Oh my God, it’s so high, I never realized. Jaaayyy, why is the penthouse so high up there?”
“Zip it and I mean it,” he grunts, flustered, getting you inside the building.
You get pushed in the elevator and he presses the button for “penthouse” on the 30th floor. You lean on him for support.
“Puddin, let’s have sex in here.”
“NO!” He squeezes onto his cane, trying to control his raging temper.
“Come on, get naked,” you beg because you sure look so attractive right now.
“ I said NO!!” Well, that was a definite no.
“What about a quickie?” You should really not push it anymore, but what do you know or care about at this point?
The elevator’s bell saves you in time because he really wanted to crush your scull against the mirror.
“Yayyyy, we’re home,” you smile, happy like no other, trying to skip but tripping on the carpet.
“Get to bed!” J commands, because he can’t wait for you to go to sleep so his ordeal is over with. He takes his jacket off.
You misunderstand, of course.
“I knew it! Finally, let’s go for it! Let’s have a baby. God, why are you so grouchy and you didn’t want me to get in yo’ pants?” you wave your hands around, upset.
He comes in front of you with a menacing demeanor.
“I am not sleeping with you when you’re like that, period.”
“Pfffttt,” you scoff, not taking no for an answer, starting to unbutton his white shirt. He always buttons only the last three buttons on the bottom, but you have a hard time working your fingers. The Joker just sits there, forgetting he hates you right now, curious to see how the hell you’re going to pull this off.
“Tell you what, Y/N, if you can undress me, then we can have some fun.”
“See? It wasn’t that hard,” you scold him, not really getting anywhere with those buttons. For some reason he’s starting to be entertained by the situation.
Three minutes gone and you’re still fiddling with his shirt. He passes his fingers through his green hair, snickering without you noticing because you’re highly concentrating on your task.
“Fuck…” you mutter and get down on your knees, “what the hell is wrong with these buttons?…”
A knock on the door and before J can reply with anything, you say “Come in!”
Frost walks in and he stops after two steps, eyes as big as plates. He sees you on your knees in front of the Joker, you head close to his crotch and your hands right around there too.
“Ummmm, sorry to…(he gulps) interrupt.” He turns to leave, his face livid; he really didn’t want to see that.
“Frosty!” you scream. He has to turn around again since you’re calling his name. Your head is moved to the side and he is glad to notice it’s not as bad as he imagined.
“Yes, miss Y/N?”
“Frosstyyyy, please come help me undress Mister J, I dunno know why I have such a hard time. He said if I can get him naked we can have sex.”
Frost chokes at the proposal, his eyes on the Joker, not knowing what to make out of it.
“Come on Frostyyy, help me undress him.”
“Yes, Frosty, why don’t you help her undress me, hmm?” J sarcastically asks, and by the wild look in his eyes, Frost knows he’d better leave.
“I’m sorry, Miss Y/N, but I have to go on a very important mission.” Frost quickly gets out before he gets in big trouble.
You fall on your butt, exasperated, starting to wail.
“I just can’t get laid tonight,” you weep, tears falling all over your face.
“You’re sooooo stupid,” The Joker cracks a smile, helping you up. You keep sobbing, like grossly crying at this point.
“I just… wannaaaaaa… get… laaaaid.”
“Yeap, it’s definitely going to happen,” J assures you, grabbing your hand and taking you to the bedroom.
He puts you in bed and tries to calm you down. He wipes your runny mascara off and looks into your eyes, dead serious. (or so you think)
“Hey, here’s the deal: I’m going to go and undress myself and I’ll be back in 15 minutes, OK? Then we are going to have fun all night.”
“Promise?” Finally, some hope.
“I promise, now just wait for me.”
He goes to the living room, watching TV for about 15 minutes. When he returns to the bedroom, you’re fast asleep as expected. You hold on tight to his pillow, curled up in a ball.
He sits by you for a few minutes, enough to clean most of the make-up from your face with a wet wipe. He’s so happy he didn’t kill you tonight.
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