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Hi guys, I've been writing for Jared Leto's Joker since The Suicide Squad came out (Joker x Reader fanfi...
Eight months ago The Joker convinced himself Emma wasn't his even after the multiple paternity tests he ordered came back as a match. It was easier to blame Y/N of falsifying the results than being reasonable; that word wasn't in his vocabulary anyway. Having a family was a distraction he couldn't indulge; why bother pretending he could play a role he wasn't born to play?
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Christmas Eve
The Joker prepares to knock again when you finally open the door and he squeezes inside the apartment before you can stop him.
"Took you long enough!" J growls and takes the hoodie off his face in a hurry. He scans the premises carefully, not that there's a lot to see: a tiny lobby, something resembling a minimal kitchen and just one small bedroom which doesn't take more than 6 steps to get to.
The lights start flickering and he realizes he can see his own breath. "Goddamn is cold in here!" the unexpected visitor complains, rushing to grab a blanket from the bed.
"The heater is broken..." you announce and your daughter shyly hides behind you; the three year old still remembers her father even if she didn't see him for the past eight months.
The Joker paces towards the window in the bedroom, cautiously glancing through the blinds.
"I'm on the run; I've been trying to avoid the cops all night. Do you have anything to eat or drink? I'm starving!" he addresses the woman while surveilling the dark streets covered in snow.
You nod a no, lovingly caressing Emma's head to make her more at ease with his presence.
"I only have my child and a bottle of water..." you point at the plastic container resting on the chair near him.
J grabs the bottle and snarls:
"You don't want it?"
Y/N's voice dies out in a whisper as she utters the words:
"You can have it, we don't need it anymore..."
"Whatever!" The King of Gotham guzzles down the clear liquid, annoyed with the lights that keep on going in and out before settling down. "Aren't you cold?" he wipes his mouth and tosses the bottle on the floor, wrapping himself tighter in the blanket.
"No..." the woman sadly smiles, "we're not cold anymore..."
"Hmmm..." J huffs at her remark and the woman speaks out for once:
"You're not on the run... are you?..."
He frowns, displeased with her comment.
Mostly because it's true.
"Did you actually come so that I can properly thank you for allowing us to stay in this dump? You didn't order the landlord to kick us out like you did with the others."
"Shut up, Y/N!" The Joker threatens, more and more antagonized. "I couldn't care less about you and the brat!"
"You mean your daughter?" you bite on your cheek since it hurts to hear him talk about her as if she's a stranger and not his own flesh and blood.
