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His Favorite

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There was a knock at the door and you spared a questioning glance at him. His back was turned and he made no motion to move, so you left your seat to open it yourself.

“Frost.” You muttered curtly; you never did like him so much. Something about the way he looked at you made your teeth grit.

“Boss, got a sec?” He inquired, ignoring you.

“Can’t anyone see I’d like to be left alone?” A quiet ‘five god damn minutes’ followed but you couldn’t tell if Frost heard.

“What about her?” You raised your brows at Frost, tilting your head to the side.


You couldn’t help but smirk, mouthing exception again at Frost as he glared at you. “Night,” you practically sang, giving him a mocking pout as you slowly shut the door on him. You made your way back to the Joker’s desk, pouring yourself another serving of whiskey, childishly pleased that you were his new favorite.

It hadn’t always been that way. Being his accountant was a mostly boring job – albeit extremely well paying – until you discovered one of his employees had been skimming cash for himself for a three-week period. The Joker rarely trusted his employees so you kept track of the trend for two weeks longer, just to be sure. You didn’t want to put yourself at risk over a mathematical error.

When you finally brought the slight to his attention, you weren’t sure what he’d done to take care of it until a pair of his thugs picked you up from your apartment in an unmarked car. J knew how much you loathed work touching your home life, so you knew something was up. It wasn’t until they took you to an even worse part of town, to an abandoned building, that your heart sped up, wondering if he was about to part ties.

It was the middle of the night when he dangled you over the edge of the rooftop. Your shoe slipped off as he gripped the neck of your shirt and you frantically held on to his arm, willing him to pull you back from the edge. He held you there for just under ten minutes, questioning you until you were stuttering and tears soaked your cheeks. After he was satisfied, J pulled you back to him, wrapping you in an embrace as he shushed your sobs and pet your hair.

Turned out he’d already killed the guy who was robbing him. He just wanted to be extra thorough.

But now he trusted you, and his business being the most important thing to him, he valued that kind of trust. You were kept in his high regard now.

Which meant that after these monthly meetings to go over said business, you were able to hang out with him after, have a few drinks. Sometimes he’d tell you to spend the night in his guest room. It was a lot to get used to – and often times made no sense at all. Several months prior, you couldn’t even have a full conversation with him without shaking in your boots, talking nervously fast or apologizing profusely, worried that he might snap and take your life at any moment. His lack of stability meant that you could never predict his moods, and the more time you spent with him meant all the more danger you were putting yourself in.

Yet putting that aside, after time you found you enjoyed his company, oddly enough. Especially private moments like these, when you spent time in his room having some drinks while he sat staring idly through the window. He was always so still, and you told yourself to imagine he was winding down.

“You two bicker like children.”

You rolled your eyes at his backside, taking a sip of your newly poured drink. “He doesn’t like me. I don’t know why,” you shrug, “Puts me on edge.”

“He doesn’t trust you…” J drawled. You looked at him, his back still turned. “You intimidate him. He thinks you’re after my money.”

“I am after your money, Mister J.” You teased. He finally looked over his shoulder at you, brow ridges raised, and bared his teeth in a silver grin before letting out a slow, reverberated laugh. You smiled with him, and after a plentiful gulp, topped yourself off just a little bit more. J didn’t drink, so he’d sit with you while you enjoyed the leisure and would run off to do whatever he did once you went to sleep.

Glass in hand, you moseyed over to his bed and climbed on it. It was king sized and perfectly made. There wasn’t ever a time you found him sleeping in it. Or sleeping in general.

Leaning back on the pillows, you pulled your phone from your shorts, quickly checking unread emails to see if anything job-related needed tending. When satisfied, you took another healthy gulp and selected Pandora to play some music. You looked over at J to make sure this was okay. He sat staring at you, another thing that needed work on getting used to. When J wasn’t shamelessly flirting – which you didn’t necessarily mind - he stared more than any somewhat sane person would deem comfortable. Months ago you decided you would never get used to his appearance, he’d always look terrifying even if a part of you did find him handsome. The unnerving edge his stares held was something you’d simply have to deal with, whether it scared you or not.

“I have something to request of you…” he started speaking slowly, rising from his chair. You nodded and closed your eyes, leaning back against the headboard. He was quiet again for a moment and with a nice buzz running through your veins, you’d almost forgotten he spoke to begin with until there was a shift in weight on the bed.

Your eyes popped open, your lips parted with a small gasp, finding J kneeling on the foot of the bed. His black button-up was undone all the way to the bottom and you pulled your knees up in front of you, trying to ignore the way his tattooed torso looked on display.

His teeth glinted behind his red lips. “A question,” he repeated. The bed dipped again as he leaned forward on his hands and crawled the short distance to you. You audibly gulped when the palms of his hands landed on your knees with a light smack.

“Yes?” You asked. Tearing your eyes from the striking contrast of his skin on yours, you willed your voice to sound strong.

However, J was distracted by your knees. His fingers gripped around them and he purred before spreading them apart.

Jaay…” you warned, wanting to focus on something else other than the way your body was reacting to this. Flirting with you was one thing but J was rarely this hands on. He smiled brightly, batting his eyelashes at you and you couldn’t help but laugh, your tension easing slightly.

Your laughter was abruptly cut short when he lowered his head to plant a chaste kiss on one of your knees. “I want you,” he started, dragging his lips downward, “– to come,” your eyes closed and your teeth chewed on your bottom lip, “to dinner tomorrow night.”

He was about halfway down your thigh when you opened your eyes again, surprised. “W-what? The big dinner?”

J still busied his mouth with your thigh, sighing heavily. The hot air of his breath gave you chills and you reached forward to snag a handful of his hair, pulling his head up from your skin. “Why?”

He glared at you, his lipstick slightly smeared. “I like having smart ones around me. People I know have my best interests.”

With the state you were in, you couldn’t be able to give it much thought, but you found yourself giving him a half nod. He shook his head from your grasp and proceeded to move back between your thighs, giving one of them a heavy chomp. You couldn’t help but gasp and your pelvis bucked toward his face. A curse flew out of your mouth.

J giggled, his teeth still gnawing at you for a moment more before letting go. He sat up straight, sitting back on his ankles, hands finding their way back to your knees.

“I knew it, I knew it,” he repeated, voice husky. “I knew you wanted it.”

You took calming breaths, the hand holding your glass starting to shake. “Wanted what?”

His smile was enormous, sinister almost, while he wagged a finger at you then held out his arms, as if holding himself out for the taking. You were at a loss for words and he rapidly tipped forward, his hands landing just above your shoulders. Unconsciously, you licked your lips, entirely unsure of how to react. You were glad one hand held a drink, your other balled into a fist to keep from wrapping around his slim waist. As much as you wanted to look away, you found yourself hypnotized by his gaze.

“Trying to take advantage of me, J?” was all you managed.

He keened, lowering his body until his forehead grazed yours. He trailed a finger over your lips and down your chin until his hand was gripping your throat, the grip just barely tight enough to constrict your breathing.

“Tell me… Would you like that? Hm?” His voice continued to make questioning sounds, your eyes drifted to his mouth, wondering what it could be like.

You were cut short from responding when there was banging on the door. You blinked up at J, who didn’t look ready to give up the moment until there were more bangs that followed. A growl echoed in his chest and he shouted “What?” over his shoulder.

“Sorry, sir,” Frost sounded from the other side. J’s eyes closed in frustration. “But you’re gonna want to take part in this.”

J rubbed his eyes, obviously reluctant. He looked at you again and planted a sloppy kiss on your forehead. “Another time, pet.”

You said nothing as he climbed off you, watching quietly as he buttoned his shirt back up, pulled his suspenders over his shoulders and ran his hands through his bright hair, slicking it back in place.

“Sleep here tonight. Room’s made for you.” You nodded, though he wasn’t looking at you. Holster in hand, he headed for the door, stopping before exiting. “Wear something… unappealing? Yes." He snapped his fingers and pointed at you. "Unappealing - tomorrow night.” You weren’t sure exactly what he meant but you nodded again anyway and then he was leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

A breath you didn’t know you were holding heaved its way out of your lungs. You desperately gulped down the rest of the whiskey in your glass and ran a hand over your face, unsure of how to feel about what just happened. Then your eyes fell on your thigh – a bright red trail of lipstick ran down the inside, ending with a mark of a full set of teeth, right above the hem of your shorts. His mark… fading into a light purple bruise.