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idkwhatimdoing1205 · 4 years

Text

flower girl

words; 2.2k

content/warnings; slight angst, mentions and descriptions of drug use (smoking pot), mentions of invisible sickness, mentions of periods, fluff (?)

pairing; ledger!joker x fem!stoner!reader

summary; “i never would’ve thought of you as a, uh, flower girl.” in the early stages of their ‘relationship,’ j comes home and sees the reader doing something he never would have imagined

a/n: slightly unedited, my first post on here so be nice

Oh how you despised feeling this way. The pain that felt as if it was brutally squeezing your uterus from the inside. Periods were a natural, normal thing. But that didn’t mean that they didn’t absolutely suck. However, your periods seem to hit just a bit harder than the average person. When you were young and got it for the first few times, you knew something wasn’t right. Periods lasting two weeks rather than one, unbearable cramps in your stomach that often left you bedridden for days on end, the amount of blood. There were times the symptoms of your illness could get the best of you, and today was no exception.

It wasn’t until you were close to getting off of work when the small cramps began to bubble in your stomach. Oh no. You could feel your body slowly tense at the feeling. Maybe my food didn’t agree with me. You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t your period because you had hoped it wasn’t. But, within a few minutes, that pain began to build up rapidly and you could feel the familiar soreness starting to spread through your entire body. And here we go.

You had managed to get through the rest of your shift, utterly thankful that it was over and you could go home. While this is a common occurrence, it doesn’t necessarily get easier. You were used to having to push yourself through physically demanding situations— you weren’t a person to be held down, illness or not. You were used to the discomforting feeling that can often last all day, but it did not lessen the pain. Now, it may seem as if you ignore it. Sometimes you can, sometimes you can’t. Today was a day when you couldn’t.

You could feel the waterworks making their way to the outside as you stepped into your home. You just wanted to feel better. As you walked straight into your room, the slight limp in your strides became more prominent— as did the pain in your legs, more so your thighs. You carelessly tossed your bag in the corner of your room and sat down, taking in a deep inhale as you did. Not the smartest idea, moving so fast, but you were starting to get impatient.

Reaching over, you pulled your bottom drawer open and retrieved what you needed. You glanced down at the small bag of weed, thankful that this little bud of grass was going to alleviate some of your worst symptoms. Before you had the chance to roll a blunt, your mind came to a screeching halt— J.

Your heartbeat picked up slightly at the thought of your favorite maniac. The dynamic between you and J was... interesting, to say the least. You weren’t the typical boyfriend and girlfriend, J would never refer to you as such. He wasn’t one for labels, and that didn’t stop when it came to relationships. Instead, he simply viewed you as his. And he was yours. It was a silent, mutual agreement between the two of you.

J wasn’t the easiest person to be with, that’s for sure. You knew that, and you understood that. Getting into a relationship with Gotham’s most feared man had plenty of red flags, but it was worth it. J may never call what the two of you have ‘love,’ but he does care about you in his own way. He shows you any chance he gets, which hasn’t been too often lately. Being a criminal had it’s downsides, one of the hardest is when he isn’t home with you. There’s not many other things that J enjoys as much as spending time with you. You were enticing to him, something he just couldn’t let go of. Something he wouldn’t let go of.

That’s why days like this were the hardest. You were physically exhausted and pained, and all you wanted was to be in J’s arms. Your safe place. It may be a twisted thing, feeling safe in the hold of the Joker, but you didn’t care. You often compared him to an incubator— which earned you curious and almost dumbfounded side eyes. Despite the humorous nature, J understood what you meant, and he liked the fact that he made you feel comfortable with him. You truly were the only person he didn’t want to scare off, even if he doesn’t always know that. Though J wouldn’t admit to it, he’s never felt more deeply cared for than when he was with you.

After a long day, all he would need to hear is the sound of your voice, and he felt as if a weight had been lifted off of him. He could listen to you talk all day, and though he adored any excuse to talk to you, hearing your sweet voice was often his main reason. Your laugh was just as fun of a sound, and once J had learned that it didn’t take much to make you break down into giggles, the jokes and sarcastic comments only increased. But your touch?

That was an entirely different story.

Your touch was nothing short of intoxicating to him. One taste of it, and it was all he could think about for days on end. Sensuality aside, J thoroughly enjoyed having you close to him, with him. It could be perceived as an almost territorial thing, the need to always be holding onto what’s his. In the end, it didn’t matter to him why he needed it, he just did.

J had been starved of your touch for days now, and it was starting to make him uneasy. He didn’t particularly like the fact that he hadn’t seen you in what felt like months, so he decided that this recent job would have to be cut just a tad bit short.

J had someone he needed to get home to.

You held the blunt in your mouth, taking a pull and turning the television on. Your eyes began to feel a bit droopy and you knew that it was starting to take it’s desired effect. While you were starting to get a bit drowsy like you had hoped, something just holding you back from falling asleep. You weren’t sure if it was just the sick feeling from your period, or something else.

Your movements halted at the sound of a small thud. Immediately, your eyes snapped to the bedroom door that was cracked slightly. You waited for a few seconds, and after being met with silence, you absentmindedly went back to what you were doing.

“Ta-da!” A shriek tore from your throat at the unexpected exclamation and you jumped. The blunt clumsily fell from your hand and panick rushed through you as you made your way to grab it before it burned your blanket. Wide eyed, you looked back up and were met with a small smirk and an almost surprised look from your clown. J’s eyes were raised and they rested on the blunt that you held with a near death grip. This probably looks bad...

J had never exactly shared his opinions on drugs with you. Working in and around the mob was certainly a dangerous thing that J absolutely refused to bring you into. Sure, he’d ramble on and on about his illegal excursions through the day, but he rarely shared the deeper details with you. He preferred to keep you away from his business, partially because he never thought you’d want the slightest participation in it.

To say he was surprised would be quite the understatement. J was excellent at reading people— psychoanalysis was his thing. You were pretty much an open book to him, which he enjoyed, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy figuring out more mysteries about you as the two of you went along. It made things exciting.

He stood across from you now, looking almost smug. A surprise indeed. And J could not pass up on tbe opportunity to tease you about it, even just a little. “What’cha got there, doll?” He questioned, though his patronizing tone confirmed your current thoughts; he’s just messing with me.

“I- uh, it’s a blunt.” You stumbled out, suddenly feeling ashamed. You couldn’t for the life of you figure out why you didn’t tell J from the start. He participated in illegal activity on the daily, and here you were, red with embarrassment over smoking weed. “You want a hit?”

You wanted to facepalm, and you did, mentally. Did I seriously just offer him some of this? And is he seriously reaching over to take it? You watched in surprise as J took a hit of it, hardly fazed by the amount of smoke entering his lungs. He didn’t cough, he didn’t have much else of a reaction besides the impressed smile that remained on his face. “I never would’ve thought of you as a, uh, flower girl.”

J knew about your health issues, but he wasn’t aware of all the suffering that came with it. You’d become very good at hiding some of the obvious signs that indicated you didn’t feel well. J is a worrier, though you’ll never hear him say it out loud. You knew this. And yes, keeping the truth from him for this long certainly isn’t what you had in mind, but you realized that now may be your chance to try and work it into conversation.

“Most people don’t. Look, I don’t do it just because I like to get high. The buzz is just an added bonus.” You tried to explain to him, but luckily for you, J knew exactly where you were getting at. He almost felt stupid for not realizing it before.

“Why didn’t ya tell me, hm? Scared I’d rat you out to the boys in blue?” He let out a cackle at this, moving past you and sitting himself down onto your bed. You sighed and sat next to him, scooting closer to his body in an attempt to feel his warmth. When he looked down at you, he noticed every micro expression, and it let him know that you weren’t exactly proud. “S’nothing, doll. Just a lil’ weed. It’s, uh, it’s a part of nature. Don’t be ashamed ‘cause it’s got a bad rep.” You didn’t verbally respond, instead opting for a nod to signal that you’d heard him. “Does it help?” J needed to hear it from you directly.

“It does,” you confirmed. “It helps a lot, actually. My whole body wanted to tear me alive from the inside earlier, now, the pain’s there but it’s not that obvious. It’s subsided enough to where I can deal, you know?” J didn’t understand first hand what you were going through, he didn’t suffer from an invisible illness like you did. But, J can see from afar just how much your body has been put through. When he learned of this, he made sure to watch you carefully when you had a flare up. After the first time, he’d learned exactly what telltale signs you giveaway right before you break. He wanted to be there when it happened, to catch your fall. The thought of being away while you were suffering left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

“Well if it helps, than, uh, you smoke all the pot ya need to, Smokahontas.” Now that was a nickname you hadn’t heard. Before you could stop yourself, you broke out into a fit of giggles and laughs. J looked down at you, confused for a split second before realizing who he was talking to. He didn’t bother to hold back a small grin at the sound of your laugh, oh how he missed that. “C’mere,” He said, not waiting for you to respond before tugging on your arm and bringing you nearly on top of him.

You laughed again and held onto a kind smile, putting your blunt out and just looked at him. No one had ever been that up close to J and had lived to tell the tale, but you were truly his one exception. “My little pothead,” He reaches forward and poked your nose childishly. You rolled your eyes. “Ah-ta-ta-ta. Don’t uh, don’t roll your eyes at me.” He scolded, though you could tell by his lighter tone that he was in more of a jovial mood.

“Don’t give me a reason to.” You countered, not allowing him to respond as you placed your lips smack against his. He grunted slightly at the kiss, tempted to pull away and glare at you, but you were just too damn irresistible. Had you been anyone else, you more than most likely would not have gotten away with the certain phrases and tones you’ve taken up with him. But J liked the challenge when it came from you.

You pulled back, gently running your fingers through his hair now. He leaned into your touch and didn’t speak, so you decided to. “Thank you, J.” His deep gaze bore back into yours and you drew your bottom lip between your teeth. “Thank you for not making me feel judged. It means more to me than you’ll ever know.” You wrapped your arms around his broad frame, holding onto him for what felt like dear life. J released a content sigh, mirroring your movements and holding you flush against him, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

And you meant more to J than you’d ever know.

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