The Joker x Reader - “SALLY”
Nobody knows why the Joker keeps on calling you Sally and you answer to it. Are you two in a weird mood again? Playing games? Messing around? Better not to ask any questions if one wants to stay alive.
Frost has the flu. It started three days ago and got worse today so you ordered him to stay in bed. He had a bunch of things assigned from his boss but you convinced your boyfriend to give him a break. You really don’t want to talk about what it took to get J’s approval, but it involves a very wild previous night, the sofa in the living room and the couch on the balcony, handcuffs, two lingerie outfits and ice cream.
Needless to say the Joker is not happy you are so doting with Jonny.
“Are you dying Frost?” he growls from the armchair, watching you touch your best friend’s forehead and cheeks to assess his fever.
“No, sir,” he turns his head towards a displeased Prince of Crime.
“Would you like to?” the question comes and you sigh, regretting taking J with you into Jonny’s quarters. Not that you could have said no since he followed you closely.
“No, Mister J,” Frost replies, pulling away from you because he realizes he’s walking on thin ice without even doing anything.
“Then stop touching my woman!” J barks, pointing his finger towards you two.
“Baby, I’m touching him, OK?” you state your evident action, not looking his way because it makes it worse; you don’t want to encourage this behavior.
“Tech-ni-ca-li-ties,” the Joker grumbles, his blue eyes burning.
“Take this, it’s for body ache,” you hand over 3 Ibuprofen capsules to Frost with a glass of water, hoping J will calm down. You feel the intensity of his gaze even if your back is turned. The gun clicks and you decide to finally glare at your boyfriend.
“Would you like another body ache, Frost? A more… permanent one?” the words echo in the bedroom, louder and louder since he’s annoyed and his wrecked temper is starting to show more and more.
“Stop it, baby!” you frown, stepping in front of the gun. “He’s sick and I’m merely taking care of him.”
J inhales, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, deliberating on his next step and lowers his pistol, placing it back in the holster.
Frost wants to reply but instead you talk again:
“On a scale of 1 to 10, how pissed are you J?”
You always use the scale to have an idea about how mad the Joker is.
“About a 5,” he sniffles, scratching his arm.
“We’re doing good then!” you cheerfully conclude and go over to kiss your boyfriend as a reward he’s only a 5 even if it seemed it was much worse. J purrs and squeezes you tight in his arms, glad his possessiveness and jealousy dictate the mood around there.
Jonny begins to cough his lungs out and J reaches for his gun but you stop his hand and placing it around your waist again.
“Noooo, don’t do that,” you continue to kiss him and peck his lips, then his eyes, then his cheeks all over.
“But why does he have to interrupt, Princess?” J complains, pulling you in his lap and enjoying you pampering and showering him with kisses.
“He’s just sick, baby,” you whisper in his ear, then kiss his neck and… Frost won’t stop coughing and he feels so weird when you two converse like he’s not even there but he’s used to it. After such a long time, Jonny knows it’s part of your strategy.
“I think I’m getting to a 7!!” J angrily admits and you quickly get up, taking his hand and urging him to get up.
“Oh, no, please don’t get to a 7! We’re going, Jonny! I’ll be back later to check up on you,” and you drag your boyfriend out before he completely loses his shit.
“Y/N!!!!!! Y/N!! Hey, Kitten! Com’ere!” he yells so you can hear him from downstairs.
“What is it?” you rush to see what’s going on.
“Doll, I think I have a hair growing on my arm!” he shows you the spot by the Bat tattoo.
“Where?” you bring your eyes really close so you can investigate and there is actually something there. “Oh my God, baby, you’re growing hair on your body?!” you panic and it doesn’t help the fact that he’s already displeased to the maximum by the situation.
“Dammit, woman, you’re making it worse!” The Joker mutters, aggravated to the point of having a tantrum, urging you to bring the tweezers so you can pluck out the culprit.
You don’t move and really have to let him know:
“I really love you but if you start growing hair on your body I’ll have to find me another man; I don’t like hairy guys,” and you lift your shoulders up to emphasize you mean it. Oooooh, that was the wrong thing to say, even if it’s not true.
J instantly snaps and the only solution to the perturbation is to inquire:
“On a scale of 1 to 10, how pissed are you baby?”
“Between 7 and 8!” he shouts back, tossing his cane to the ground and stepping on it, mad beyond control, and you know you’re the next to pay but you’re in luck:
“Wanna have angry sex?” you smirk, relieved (when he’s angry between 7 and 8 you can usually calm him down with sex).
“Yeah!!” J turns his attention towards you, slamming you on the kitchen counter and starting to rip your clothes off.
Dodged the bullet there, thank goodness he didn’t reach a 9.
It also turned out it was false alarm: no hair, just a faded shade of black pen marking, probably from when he was tracing locations on Gotham’s map and didn’t realize he touched his skin with it. At least you had a huge smile on your face for the rest of the day because… did he go crazy on you or what?! And you totally enjoyed it.
The Joker hates that you and Frost have your thing: you have your jokes, your stories and all the little things only the two of you know about since you are best friends. Sometimes it only takes one word and you know what the other is talking about. The King of Gotham never had a thing with anybody and it makes him hold a grudge against your friendship. He knows there is nothing going on between you and Jonny that way but it doesn’t make him less discontent.
You are aware of it because your boyfriend told you about it once when he was a 6 on the mad scale. You were fighting and in the heat of the moment he threw that in your face; you didn’t really have a comeback afterwards since you didn’t know how to handle it. That’s why you are determined to find a thing that only you and him can have. So far, no luck.
** When you showed up at the penthouse with your left cheek all cut up, things escalated faster than expected. You broke into Van Criss laboratories to extract a new toxin J wanted to sell on the black market and got ambushed. After a chase, lots of shooting, a knife fight and your face slashed in the process, you barely made it out of there. You wanted to make The Joker proud so you sneaked in at night alone, didn’t take any henchmen with you. Not the best idea you ever had.**
He keeps on furiously pressing the cuts, attempting to stop the bleeding.
“Fuck, Kitten, what the hell were you thinking?!” He rarely cusses like this so you know it’s not a good sign. J is not being gentle and it stings sooooo bad when the rubbing alcohol is being poured on your fresh wounds. You want to cry badly but you’ve read somewhere that a person looks 11.33% uglier when they cry and you can’t afford that right now with your left cheek a mess.
“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper, trying to hold the tears in, clinging to his white shirt that has your blood all over. “I-I got what you wanted though,” you stutter, closing your eyes really tight since the pain won’t stop.
“Do I really care about that right now?!” J kicks your leg and it makes you jump. “Who did this to you?” he snarls, patching and covering with gauze whatever he can, fully aware you’ll have scars after this solo adventure of yours.
“A-a guard, “ you bury your face in his chest since he’s done. “Am I… am I gonna be ugly now?!” you sound so desperate it makes him more enraged.
“Nobody does this to my Pumpkin!” The Joker reckons with a clenched jaw. “I have to gather our men, we’re going on a mission!”
“Where are you going?” you ask with a muffled voice, still taking refuge in his arms, worried at his impulsiveness. He ignores you and caresses your hair, absent minded. You feel his body getting stiff and have to ask:
“Ummm…on a scale of 1 to 10, how pissed are you baby?”
“A 12!!!” J angrily exclaims, pushing you away and storming out the door, slamming everything in his way towards the exit.
You are left alone in the middle of the living room, patched up in bloody bandages; you even forgot to cry: a 12??!!! What is a 12??!! How do you handle it?! It’s not even on the scale!!! It makes you hysterical: what is The Clown Prince of Crime going to do?!
Well, The Van Criss lab location you were at earlier tonight got blown up to pieces: it’s all over the news. There was not a single wall or pole left standing, no survivors.( At least so far they didn’t find any). The only clue that might tell the authorities what happened was found on the concrete fence near the South entrance: a laughing mouth, full of teeth, painted with neon green spray and the inscription on top of it: “Nobody messes with my girl!”
Your face healed and The Joker was right: you have deep scars ingrained in your skin. You thought you will hate your new appearance but actually kind of like it: it suits you. J believes it makes you look badass and that’s more than good enough for you.
The best compliment he found so far
is telling you that you don’t look as bad as Deadpool.
Thank you, honey; you know how to make a girl feel special. T____T
J insisted to give you a face tattoo on top of your scars to make them look better: black stitches with small bows at each end. You were very skeptical about the whole project but the King of Gotham is not used to take no for an answer.
You analyze everything in the mirror and have to admit J did a good job: the tattoo is a success! Plus, you can always cover it with make up if you really want to.
You trace the lines with your fingers and …idea!!!
“J!! J!!!” you land on top of him
since he’s in bed, watching TV.
“Hmm?” he pretends not to notice you’re almost naked.
“What do these scars remind you of?”
“Ummm…. Deadpool?” he teases and you punch his shoulder, pouting.
“I know, but tell me anyway, Kitten,” he slaps your butt, winking at you with that evil smile on his lips.
“My answer is the same unless you enlighten me Doll,” The Joker purrs, shifting so he’s on top of you.
You reach for his cell and Google something really fast then show him on the screen:
“Sally from Nightmare before Christmas, baby! My scars almost look like hers,” you excitedly indicate and he chuckles. “I can be your Sally,” you toss the phone at the end of the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “This will be our thing: I’m your stitched girlfriend; what do you think?”
Him staring at you without blinking makes you nervous. Oh, no, is this taking a bad turn?
“On a scale of 1 to 10, how pissed are you J?” you sigh, disappointed your idea got dismissed.
“Zero,” J mumbles, roughly kissing you. “Daddy likes his new Sally,” he snickers, delighted he finally has a thing with somebody. That somebody being his girlfriend makes it even better.
“Really? You mean it?” you pull on his bottom lip and J purrs louder.
“Yes, I mean it; now lets get my new Doll out of these rags.”
Nobody knows why the Joker keeps on calling you Sally and you answer to it. Are you two in a weird mood again? Playing games? Messing around? Better not to ask any questions if one wants to stay alive. After all, nobody dares to upset the Clown Prince of Crime and his Sally. It could easily escalate to a full blown 12 again.
And 12 is not even on the damn scale!
Also read: MASTERLIST