Achieved: #1 in JokerFanfic, Joker, JokerFanfiction, DCU, Villain, Gotham, JokerLeto, JaredLetoJoker, Joker x Reader, 30stm, #202 in Fanfiction.
Hi guys, I've been writing for Jared Leto's Joker since The Suicide Squad came out (Joker x Reader fanfi...
The Joker's unexpected death left you behind with a young daughter to raise and unbearable pain. Things have never been easy but now that he's gone you miss him so badly it hurts. And you have a lifetime to endure without The King of Gotham.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"What...took you...so long? I almost died waiting...literally..." J takes deep breaths, trying to focus on you. He's lying in a pool of blood, still holding the cell to his chest.
You rush by his side and kneel, so shocked you can't make a sound. You lift his head in your lap, wiping a few red drops splattered on his pale cheeks.
"Those bastards...got me..." he manages to point towards the two dead bodies a few feet away in the underground parking. "But I got... them too," The Joker pants, making an effort to continue. "I'm glad...you answered...the phone..." and he groans in pain; it's so hard for him to speak at this point. "If...if there's something...you wanna tell me...you should hurry..." he faintly smiles and your mind is completely blank. You finally start bawling, reality suddenly hitting with its cruel outcome.
"I love you," J hears and it seems so far away.
"I...I know that...What else?" He starts coughing, almost choking in his own blood.
"What am I supposed to tell Emma, hm?" you bring your face close to his, so desperate and hopeless you can't stop shaking.
"Tell her...that..." and The Joker really strains to finish but can't. "Tell... ... ...her..." His eyelids slowly close, the world fading away.
"J...? J...?" you gently caress his hand even if it's too late: you know he's gone. "What am I supposed to tell Emma?... What am I supposed to tell her?..."
*************
As soon as you step out of the elevator into the penthouse, your three years old daughter runs towards you, excited:
"Mommy!" and she hugs your legs, giggling. "Whe's daddy?" Emma glances behind you, pouting. You don't even pick her up, not realizing that's what she wants. Frost gave you his jacket to cover your clothes soaked with blood.
"Up, mommy, up!" she pulls on your jeans, whimpering when you ignore her and walk away.
"Whe's daddy?" your child insists, hoping he will be the one to play with her.
"Daddy will never come home again," you turn towards her for a few moments, feeling the unbearable pain crushing your heart.
"Com'ere, kid," Frost sighs, lifting the little girl in his arms, her pigtails flying in the air."You want chocolate cake?" he asks, distracting Emma and she nods a yes, forgetting she was about to whine.
"Cake?" the squeaky tone excitedly inquires.
"Yes, kiddo, your favorite."
"Yaaayy!!!" she bounces in his strong hold, happy to get a sweet treat. You barely drag your feet to the nearest bathroom downstairs, locking the door and start to undress, your body convulsing under the pressure building up inside.
