I Need a Gangsta (Bottom Feeder - Part 1)
My first x reader post on here. I hope someone likes it :$ I have an idea of where I want this to go and I will post it, however if people have suggestions let me know!
Characters: Joker, Gabby Barnes (you), some goons, a couple bystanders.
Warnings: Some violence, threatening.
“What do you mean you’re going with the croc guy story?” I screamed into the phone, disturbing a few people ahead of me in line at the Gotham Bank. An elderly woman in a fur coat glanced over her shoulder at me in disgust. It took everything I could not to flip her off.
My editor sighed, “It’s Killer Croc, Gabby, and let’s be honest, who wants to hear about some blind psycho who really likes colours?”
“It’s Crazy Quilt and that’s all he can see - you know what it doesn’t matter. Mike, I really need that spot in the Times, I’m on thin ice here.” I glimpsed a man in a dark coat and hat with a long brim perusing the paper stand just outside the glass doors. Was that a hint of green? Fashion these days.
“I’m sorry, Gabs, people like that big, scary shock factor when it comes to crime figures. Besides, we still have a spot open for you in the obits.”
“You know what, Mike? You can just shove -” The man from the newspaper stand was suddenly inside and brushed passed me. I now realized that his coat was purple, and that the hair peeking out of his hat was definitely green. Silver glinted out of his pocket and my heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, I slid my taser out of my purse and into my jacket.
“Hey, Mike, honey?” I said sweetly, attempting to collect myself, “I’ll call you in an hour with something that’ll make Killer Croc read like a fluff piece. Keep that front page warm for me.”
As I ended the call, the man whipped out two silver handguns and began firing in the air. People began screaming, some even tried to run from the building, but men with clown masks stepped in front of the doors wielding machine guns. I lowered my phone and hit record on the camera just in time to catch the Joker’s signature laugh.
“You can’t do this! Who do you think you are?” the woman in the fur coat shouted.
His eyes flashed and he was in front of her in seconds, the cold barrel of his gun pushing up on her jaw. I tried not to smirk. Jesus, Gaby, you’re wicked.
He smiled wide, “Not so arrogant now, are we, old bag?”
She whimpered but said nothing. There was a long tense silence where he simply stared at her, and slowly cocked his weapon. Suddenly, a big hand gripped my wrist and twisted it behind me, causing me to drop my phone and yelp.
“Hey, boss!” said a male voice over my shoulder, “This one was trying to get it on tape.”
Without thinking I pulled out my taser and twisted around enough to hit him square in the chest. The goon fell to the ground writhing and I readied myself for the others to strike.
“I’ll handle this, boys. Go get that volt open.” the Joker turned his attention to me and the woman slumped to the floor in relief.
His heels clicked along the marble floor as he deliberately strode towards me. I resisted the urge to bolt and settled for taking a few steps back.
“You know, I really do like surprises.” he cooed, then hissed, “When I’m in on them!”
Sliding the gun shaft along my cheek, he snarled, “Why were you recording? And drop that.”
My taser clattered to the floor, “I-I work for the Gotham Times.”
He cackled, “Tell me, what’s it like being a bottom feeder?”
“Speak for yourself.” I almost covered my own mouth in shock but stood my ground.
His eyes glinted and he regarded me from head to toe, “What’s your name, kitten?”
Don’t tell the bad guy your name, Gabby, “Gabby Barnes.” I practically blurted. Idiot.
“I suppose you would just die for an interview, wouldn’t you, Miss Barnes?” he eased himself against the wall he had backed me up into.
I nodded sharply, not trusting myself to speak. I chose to think that it was because of the stressful situation, not because he oddly smelled good or that I had noticed his muscles tensing under his dark red dress shirt.
Abruptly, one of the goons called out to him, “Boss, we got the stuff, we best get out of here before the Bats comes!”
The Joker, seemingly unfazed, trailed a finger along my cheek and hooked a strand of my hair. He gently brought it to his face and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. When they opened his eyes were suddenly focused, almost predatory. My insides churned but I couldn’t look away. He then yanked me closer by my hair and I gasped as his lips grazed mine.
The criminal blinked back to reality and briskly turned to make his exit, leaving my hair behind.
“But how do I get in touch with you!” I yelled after him.
“Oh, kitten, just put your lips together and blow.” He gave me a once over, bit his lower lip for a long moment, then was gone.
I grabbed a bench to steady myself on. What have you gotten yourself into now, Barnes?