#Arthur Fleck imagine

[five-miles-over]

Hi Mun 👋🏼 just found your blog off some tags lol

I would love it if you could do an age gap hc for joker? How would Arthur deal with developing feelings for a partner who is 10 or even 15 years younger than him?

Thank you so much!

Thanks for your patience, anon! I truly appreciate it. Also, Arthur's head canon turned into a bit of a fic, so I apologize for that.

Headcanon: Arthur Fleck Having an S/O Younger Than Him

"ID Please."

While Arthur accompanied you to the grocery store after your shift at work, you bought a bottle of wine to enjoy with the dinner you planned to cook for Arthur. He was coming over to your apartment for the first time, and you wanted to spoil him with a recipe you saw on a cooking show. So you bought all the ingredients, and a bottle of red.

The cashier glanced at you. "You're twenty-two huh? You look like you should be in high school."

You shook your head, flustered. "Um...thanks?"

After paying, you quickly left the store with your bagged groceries. But just when you reached for Arthur's hand, he flinched.

You didn't think much of it at first, but when you tried to talk to Arthur about something, he simply shrugged it off and said it was nothing

The truth is that, Arthur was still processing the fact that you were in your early twenties.

He knew you were a young beautiful woman, smart and kind. A total catch. And that part of Arthur, the part of his mind that told him he was an outcast and fed him nothing but negative thoughts, constantly said, "She could do so much better than you. You don't deserve her at all. She's the whole package, and what are you? Just some guy who can't even take her out to dinner."

He tried to hold it back as he saw other, bigger guys in Gotham walking with their partners, giving them bouquets of flowers wrapped in shiny plastic and other gifts, telling himself that someday he would do exactly that with you. But knowing that you were at ten years younger than him? That was just more fuel to the fire burning inside him.

"She's got her whole life ahead of her. She's going to find someone better, wait and see." The negative thoughts materialized again. "She's just with you out of pity. Date the sad clown, maybe she just wants to fool around. Wait and see. She's going to meet someone with a lot of money, a lot of status...She'll marry him, and when they're all sitting around at cocktail parties, she'll laugh about the time she dated a sad clown. And say she dodged a bullet."

"Arthur?" You tried to get his attention, and repeated his name a couple of times. "Arthur?"

Arthur, seemingly lost in thought, didn't respond until you stood in front of him, stopping him from crossing the street. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he lied. You crossed your arms, not having any of it. And this made Arthur laugh a bit, not out of amusement but out of fear. "Nothing, really," he lied again between laughs.

"Just tell me."

After a few moments of silence, Arthur simply asked. "Are you really twenty-two?...You're twenty-two."

"Yes. I am."

"That's young."

You shifted your weight to one foot. "I know that."

Arthur mirrored your gesture and swallowed. "So...well, I don't care. It's just young."

"I'm not that young," you rebuffed.

"Young enough that the cashier thinks you're in high school."

You put your hands on your hips, still carrying the bags of groceries. "Is that what this is about? He wasn't hitting on me!"

"No, but someone will," Arthur raised his voice a little. "You're young, what the hell do you know?"

"I know that you're my boyfriend and I love you. I don't care what some cashier says about me, and neither should you."

He shook his head. God how he loved the way you'd get so stubborn about your opinions. It was one of his favorite things about you, but right now, in this moment, it made him even more annoyed. How could you say such a thing, lying through your teeth? And with those three special words? "Bullshit," Arthur muttered, walking away from you to cross the street.

You followed him, huffing with your groceries. "Arthur Fleck, what is wrong with you?! Can't you just...Why are you so mad? Nothing happened! I'm still the same person I was twenty minutes ago."

"No. You're twenty-two." He turned around and lashed out. "You're twelve years younger than I am. What the hell's wrong with you? Hanging around with some old clown, waiting until some rich guy makes you his wife and you can leave me behind!" Your eyes widened. "Is that what you think of me?" Your lips quivered and tears formed in your eyes. "Is that seriously what you think this is, just...hanging around? Oh my god." You looked down as you felt a tear roll down your cheek.

Arthur visibly softened, reaching his hand out but stopping himself just before he could touch you. "I'm such an idiot," you sniffed. "You're right, what do I know?" "I'm sorry," Arthur sighed. "I didn't mean to make you cry." Arthur looked down, into your eyes. "I...was just shocked that you were younger. I thought it would...I don't deserve you. You're great, you're a perfect girl and I don't deserve you." He added, "I love you so damn much."

"I love you too," you looked up. "And I don't want to leave you." He laughed for a few moments with pain in his eyes, and bit the inside of his cheek to quiet down. "I'm so sorry," Arthur repeated and put his hands on your shoulders. "Oh my god, please don't cry. I'm so sorry." He took your grocery bags in his hands. "Let's go."

You and Arthur went back to your apartment, and didn't talk about your age for the rest of the night. But you did spend the evening together, telling each other - and showing each other - how much you really loved each other.

Joker Having an S/O Younger Than Him Would Include...

In complete contrast to Arthur, Joker finding out you were ten or fifteen years younger than him would excite him

He'd turn it into a complete kink, calling you his "personal little baby doll"

Whenever you'd go out, you'd be on his lap, him stroking your thighs and your hair.

Unless you were absolutely against the aesthetic, Joker would love to dress you in coquettish clothing - plaid mini skirts, knee-high white socks, white and pastel blouses that he would ruin with grease facepaint while making out with you, and corsets he would rip off you before having his way with you

And if you ever called him "daddy"? Watch out and be prepared to be dragged into the most private area by the Joker. Hope you didn't have any plans for the next...hour

In general, the Joker would be extremely protective of you, keeping his arm around your waist while you walked.

He'd spoil you with anything you ever wanted, acting almost like your sugar daddy while you window shopped.

And when it got cold, he'd put his red suit jacket over your shoulders saying, "Daddy's not going to let his baby doll freeze."

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 13

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: sex, age gap, language, violence, mental illness, assault

Word Count: 2651

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Arthur called immediately after you hung up the phone with Tina and Chantelle and asked you to meet him at City Central Station at noon.

“I have to go out to Long Island,” he said, a heavy undercurrent of apology in his voice. “And I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to come with me.” 

“Sounds perfect,” you’d replied instantly.

Arthur laughed, surprised. “I, uh…well, I know it’s not very romantic. But it’s kind of an emergency and-”

“I’m there,” you said. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Arthur said. He sounded tense, flustered. You wished you were in the same room with him so you could put his arms around him and calm him down. Comfort him with your body. Among other things. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Arthur assured you. “I’m not hurt or anything. I can explain everything to you on the train. I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be sorry, Arthur,” you stopped him. “I’m happy just to spend time with you. No matter what we’re doing.”

You heard Arthur pause, releasing a relieved-sounding sigh on the other end, his tone softening. “I…I couldn't stop thinking about you last night,” he confessed. “I think I even dreamed about you.”

“Really?” you felt an uncontrollable smile spread across your face. Only Arthur Fleck could make you smile like a complete loon. 

“Sorry. Is that weird for me to tell you that?”

“No!” you blurted. “In fact, I dreamed about you!” 

Arthur laughed. “You did? Last night?”

“Uh…not last night, exactly.” You felt your cheeks heating up and felt glad Arthur couldn't see you blush. “Earlier. Like…maybe after the first time I saw you?”

“That’s sweet, Y/N. Was it a nice dream?”

“It was…very nice.” 

If only Arthur knew the true carnal nature of that first dream. You’d get around to telling him someday…hopefully sooner rather than later. 

And now, one hour later, here you were: one hour standing on the train platform waiting for him. 

You glanced around Gotham City Central Station at all the bustling people - still rushing, still hustling, still rat-racing on a Saturday morning. They were like hamsters on one big gigantic wheel in a cage called Gotham, and although you knew you were one of them, having a day off gave you a refreshed perspective: Exactly who was winning this race? Why did normal people have to work themselves into the ground just to scrape by? 

It seemed the winners of this race had already been called a long time ago. 

Among the noise, traffic and images vying for your attention all at the same time, you locked eyes with a poster of Thomas Wayne. You shook your head. He was on television all the time these days. People seemed to think Wayne could “fix” Gotham and wanted him to run for mayor. 

To put it bluntly: you thought those people were delusional. 

There was no denying Gotham was a broken place. But was the wealthy mogul Thomas Wayne really the one to fix it? How could he know what the people of this God-forsaken city needed to get back on their feet? How could someone born and raised with an endless supply of silver spoons in his mouth possibly relate to living on the fringes of society?

The crowd parted and Arthur appeared, holding a newspaper under his arm. He spotted you and smiled. You ran up to him and leapt into his arms. Arthur caught you, spun you, then dipped you over and kissed you. The two of you were living in your own musical fantasy in the middle of a dirty, overcrowded train station.

“I’m so sorry that this is our second date,”Arthur said as he lowered you to the ground. “I wanted to plan something more romantic…a walk in the park, or maybe a trip to the-”

“Arthur,” you stopped him. “Anytime we’re together is romantic. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now but here.” 

He smiled shyly and gave you a tender kiss on the cheek.

The graze of his lips against you triggered a slew of wants. You wanted to kiss him again. Properly. In fact, you wanted to do a lot of things to him. The memory of the soft pull of Arthur’s lips against yours the night before had stirred within you like a fever since then - but you were worried that if you started, you wouldn't be able to stop. And there were too many people around. You’d have to behave yourself. At least for the time being. 

“So where exactly on Long Island are we headed?” you asked. “And what’s this mystery mission you couldn’t tell me about on the phone?”

Arthur drew in a heavy breath. “It’s…look, I don’t want to sound crazy. I’m not sure if I believe it myself, but last night…”

He was interrupted by your train pulling loudly into the station. 

“That’s the one we want,” he jerked his head towards it.

“Oh shit!” you exclaimed. “I just remembered, I didn’t buy a ticket!”

“Don’t worry,” Arthur fished into his jacket pocket and pulled out two small pieces of paper. “I got yours.” 

After finding two empty seats together, you placed your hand on Arthur’s and listened. Listened as he told you everything: How his mother had been writing letters to Thomas Wayne (funny how you’d just been thinking about him…though to be fair, his smug face was plastered all over the city). How he hadn’t paid his mother’s compulsive letter-writing much mind. She was set in her ways and tended to overfocus on things that were of little to no consequence. And finally: how last night after coming home from your date, an unexpected burst of curiosity had cajoled him into reading one of her letters…

…in which his mother had disclosed something totally unexpected. Something shocking.

“Thomas Wayne?” you repeated, raising your eyebrows. 

Arthur nodded.

“Your…father?”

You blinked. This was so out of left field, it had gone past left field and back to right again. You struggled to pick a reaction; there were so many coursing through your mind and heart. You could only imagine how Arthur was feeling. 

“How did your mother even know him?” you asked, agog.

“She used to work for the Waynes. As their housekeeper. Just before I was born.”

You shook your head in stunned disbelief. “I have to say, I don’t know what to think. Do you believe her, Arthur?” 

Arthur was silent for a moment, and you gave him space to find the words.

“At first I didn't, really. She hasn’t always been…the best at telling the truth. She thinks things are real that aren’t. I wonder sometimes if I get that from her.” 

He unfolded the newspaper on his lap and began leafing through the pages.

“But now, when I look at pictures of him - and his pictures are everywhere - I can’t help but see a resemblance. Maybe it’s all in my head, I don’t know.” 

Arthur landed on a picture of Wayne and his wife, gazing admiringly up at him as he waved to a crowd. He tore out the photo and creased back the edges so you both could see it more clearly. 

“Do you think I look like him, Y/N?” Arthur asked. 

“I don’t know…” You scoured the famous man’s face. The curve of his cheekbones, the arch of his eyebrows. 

Like a bolt of lightning, it struck you.  

“Shit, Arthur. I don’t know if I’m going crazy, but…now I do kind of see a resemblance!” 

“I know,” Arthur said. “Now that I see it, I can’t stop seeing it.”

You peered in closer. 

“But why wouldn’t she say anything until now?” you leaned back in your seat. “Why wait all these years?” 

“She said she signed some papers promising she would keep it a secret. It was to protect me as their child, some big scandal coming out. But she said they loved each other. They just couldn’t be together.” 

“Jesus,” you sat back in your seat. Through the window, the entire world seemed to blur as the train lurched away from the city. “What a fucking rollercoaster.” 

“I have to go see him,” Arthur’s voice broke into your racing thoughts. “Talk to him face to face.”

“Of course,” you agreed. “Go to his house and confront him. It’s the only way to get to the bottom of this. ” 

You’d been to Wayne Manor only once before: a field trip in the second grade at Burnley Elementary School. Over a decade later, all you recalled about the visit were the Waynes’ dobermans that barked at you and your classmates the entire time. Like you were intruders even though the Manor was a historical landmark with paid tours.

The Waynes were a piece of work. 

“Come on,” you took Arthur’s hand as you exited the train station. There were no cabs around like in the Gotham, and the walk from the train station to Wayne Manor would take at least half an hour on foot. 

Long Island was worlds apart from the city. Away from the endless, screeching roar of Gotham, you could actually hear yourself think. 

You and Arthur made your way down the tree-lined roads. It was autumn and the leaves were beginning to turn gold and fall to the ground. You liked how Arthur made a point to always walk on the outside of the sidewalk, creating a buffer between yourself and the street. Maybe his mother was crazy, but there was no denying she had raised a gentleman. 

Arthur seemed to relish holding your hand, the sound of dry leaves crunching beneath your feet. 

“So what was that dream you had about me?” you asked playfully, giving his hand a light squeeze. You looked over to see his cheeks flush. His shy smile swept you off your feet.  

“Oh,” Arthur gave a small laugh. “I dreamed you were onstage with me.” 

“Doing your comedy act?” you giggled. “Like a singing, dancing comedic duo?”

“No,” Arthur shook his head. “I mean yes. Kind of. We were singing and dancing together. I was in my red suit and you were…”

He paused. You shot him a quizzical look.

“I was what?” you prodded. 

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What was I, naked or something?” 

“No,” he shook his head. His face was even cuter (if such a thing was possible) when it was all embarrassed and flushed.

“You were wearing your Snow White costume.”

Not the answer you’d expected. You let out a laugh. 

“I guess that makes sense,” you conceded. “Given you’ve seen me in it at the children’s hospital.”

“It’s not just that,” Arthur confessed as you walked along. “It’s because…well, I didn’t tell you this at the time because I thought it would be weird. But Snow White was the first movie I ever saw in the movie theater.” 

“That’s not so strange,” you replied. “It’s a classic, after all.”

“Well…she was also my first love. Snow White, I mean. I saw her up there on the screen and I fell in love with her.”

Now you were blushing. And as stupid as it was, you also felt a pang of jealousy course through you. Yes, you were jealous of a cartoon princess Arthur’d been infatuated with as a child. It was beyond ridiculous, but the truth was: hearing Arthur loved anyone besides you made your heart pound with envy. You just hoped he still didn’t have a thing for her. 

“You know…” Arthur’s voice broke into your racing thoughts. “I hope this isn't weird of me to say, but…I'm honestly surprised you would ever be interested in someone like me.” 

You stopped in your tracks. Was he trying to give you the brush off? Tell you he was still in love with a childhood celluloid dream? Your heart was jumping up and down, side to side. You couldn’t imagine going on without him in your life. 

“What makes you say that?” you asked, measured tone and breath, trying specifically not to sound as psycho as you really felt.

Arthur shrugged. “I’m…older than you, I live with my mother. I have no money. And you…”

You wanted to protest everything he was saying, but reminded yourself to wait patiently for him to complete the thought. 

“...you’re a college student.”

“I was a college student,” you corrected him.

“You deserve to live in a beautiful place like this,” Arthur said, gesturing at the verdant surroundings. “Someone who can give you that.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” you blurted. You could feel another episode coming on and as much as you trusted Arthur, you really didn’t want to lose it in front of him again. You especially didn’t want to lose it because he was dumping you. And on Long Island, no less. Crazy behavior was normal in Gotham, but here they’d have you arrested for so much as a shriek here.

“No!” he shook his head immediately. “Not at all. I just…don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping you from a better life. You know I have all these problems…”

You breathed a silent sigh of relief. He wasn’t breaking up with you. He was just concerned, thoughtful, putting your needs ahead of his. 

It only made your feelings deepen for him even more. 

“Does it bother you?” Arthur asked. “That I’m older than you?”

“No,” you replied. “Does it bother you? Have you ever been with someone younger?” 

Arthur pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and shook one loose, bringing it to his mouth as he fished around his other pocket for a lighter. 

“I haven’t really dated at all,” he said with an embarrassed wince. “I’m not someone most people would…ever be interested in.” 

“That’s not true,” you said, still reeling from the shock that this beautiful, sweet, tender man had never dated. Though to be fair, knowing he’d loved anyone else would have triggered more jealousy. At the same time, you couldn’t wrap your head around how no one could see how amazing he was. 

“I’ve never dated, either, Arthur,” you pointed out. 

“But that makes sense. You're a lot younger than I am.”

You grinned slightly. “Have you been doing the math? How much?”

Arthur inhaled the first drag of his cigarette, and it billowed out into the clean Long Island air. 

“You told me what year you graduated last night. If I’d stayed in school, I would have graduated in 1964. Which means I'm fifteen years older than you. It took me a second to do the math. That was never my strong subject. None of them were.” 

You shook your head, then suddenly found yourself laughing. “Actually…”

Arthur looked up at you with big, worried eyes. “Yes?”

“I like that you’re older than me,” you confessed.   

“You do?”

“Is that weird?” Now you felt a little embarrassed. You didn’t want Arthur to think you were a freak, but you were just being honest. “I don't like guys my age.”

“You didn't meet anyone you liked at school? I'd think lots of guys would be interested in you.”  

“‘Interested’ is a relative term,” you scoffed bitterly. “The guys at Gotham U are…let's just say a lot of them are book smart. And come from rich families. But they act like fucking animals.”

Arthur frowned. “Animals? How do you mean?”

You shook your head. “I'll tell you about it some other time.”

Arthur nodded respectfully.

“The truth is, Arthur,” you continued. “I never liked anybody that way…until I met you.”

Arthur smiled at the ground as you plodded along in sync, then silently took your hand.

“I feel the same way about you,” he said. “When we’re together, it just…feels right.” 

“I know,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze. “So many things in my life haven’t felt right…haven't been right. But this does. And if it feels right, nothing else matters.” 

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[ledgerserious8]

..My Masterlists..

A Fact : Me as fan of heath ledger doesn't mean that i can't write for any another actor but most of this imagines is about him

My Wattpad..

Heath Ledger Imagines :

Break up with Him

Meeting your ex boyfriend

Roses from your lover

In the prison of the joker

Patrick want your heart

The joker fighting with batman

Heath survived because of you

Your boyfriend becomes playful

Joaquin Phoenix Imagines :

Interview with him

Waking up your boyfriend

Your neighbor is arthur

Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) Imagines :

Trust Issues from Bruce

He's Your Home

He's fighting the joker for you

Your boyfriend is so sick

Smut Imagines (soon) :

Put A Love (Patrick Verona)

Birthday Gift (Bruce Wayne)

Note : this post will keep getting updated or edited time by time in the future i will add a lot of characters and actors

Have 4 Nice Day..

[sleepyyywriter]

Just You Is Enough For Me

A/N: I’d like to point out that my recollection of the movie is vague because I have only watched it once, but I needed a fix it fic asap. This one is for me but if you enjoy, yay! (Also, might’ve altered or moved events around but, you know. Fiction. Also, also! I did ridiculous research on pleas and whatnot and again, because this is fiction, I used what I liked and ignored the rest.)

Word Count: 8k

Genre: Fluff, fix-it fic

Heads up, this is not the fic for you if you liked Lee's character. Sorry.

Finally, thanks to @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend for listening to me spiral about Arthur and for giving me the space to come up with this idea. Love youuuu! 💜

The pencil in her hand snapped in half as she gazed up at Arthur, her eyes wide and the terror clear as day in them. The biggest mistake he could make at this point was firing them as counsel.

“My client needs a break, your hon-“

Before she even knew what she was doing, she had grabbed at Arthur’s suit and yanked him down, her eyes boring into his and effectively halting his protests.

She wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell him with her eyes, she couldn’t actually say anything aloud, even if she could get her mouth to open, but Y/N needed him to understand what she knew in her heart.

They were his only shot at not rotting at Arkham for the rest of his life. They were his only shot at getting the help he so desperately needed. That he deserved and had been denied his whole existence. She knew that, why didn’t he?

The voices around her sounded so distant as they looked into each other’s eyes, hers pleading and his avoidant.

No. Not avoidant. He was looking for her, no doubt. All he did was look for her, the one responsible for this shitshow. The one who was in it for the fame and publicity that came with being the joker’s girlfriend, or whatever the fuck she was.

Y/N knew about her, who didn’t? And she hated her. She told herself it was because of the harm she was causing Arthur’s case. And because it was so obvious she didn’t actually care for him. Not all of him anyway. But if she were to be honest with herself… Well. There was no time for that right not.

Right now, they had to figure out if there was a way to salvage any of this.

As they made their way to the room they were provided with by the court, Y/N could tell Maryanne was pissed. They had been dealing with the repercussions of everything Lee said and did in front of the media, and Arthur’s outburst could very well be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if Maryanne herself asked to be dropped as counsel.  

As the bailiff shackled Arthur to the table at the center of the room, Y/N intercepted Maryanne at the door, involuntarily cringing at the glare sent her way.

“Let me talk to him first?”

“This is not the place for your stupid cru-“

Y/N yelped and shut the door, hoping Arthur hadn’t heard that from the other side.

“This has nothing to do with that!” she interrupted, lightly shouldering Maryanne away from the door and towards the bench outside of the room. “You need to calm down. If you go in there, guns blazing, he is going to shut down and we won’t be able to convince him to stay.”

“You think we can? You think you can?” she sneered, her lips pursing in anger as she massaged her temple with her fingers.

Y/N smiled tightly and made her way back into the room, “I’m gonna fucking try.”

-----------------------------

She didn’t know how long she had been standing there, arms across her chest as she leaned into the closed door, her eyes on the squirming, hunched over figure in front of her.

A part of her was trying to find the words, nice ones at least, to try to talk some sense into Arthur. Another part of herself, the pettier side, was enjoying how uncomfortable Arthur seemed.

Good. She hoped he knew he had fucked up. She especially hoped he knew how he had hurt her feelings.

She was very aware the crush was one sided, judging by the dopey smile he got on his stupidly handsome face every time Lee was brought up. And that was okay. Really! Her main concern was getting Arthur the help he needed, not any silly schoolgirl fantasies her exhausted brain would concoct right before she passed out on her bed.

Y/N had accompanied Maryanne from day one as she worked Arthur’s case, and she thought they had formed a friendship. Maryanne of course cared for him and wanted to help; she was more centered, maybe even more professional? And that why she was so damn good at her job.

Y/N was the younger associate. She could afford to be swayed by emotions. She could afford the reassuring smiles and the daily jokes and teasing banter. She was the good cop to the clients. And more so with Arthur. She could still remember how skittish he was at the beginning. How accustomed he was to people hurting him or making fun of him, that he didn’t talk to them at all for the first three days.

It wasn’t until Y/N told a joke, a very bad one she profusely apologized for, that he finally acknowledged them. She remembered how her heart ached at the sight of his scabbing eyebrow and his busted lip. How a smile made its way to her lips at the sight of his smile, so child-like and innocent and a perfect match for the twinkling seas of juniper leaves in his eyes.

It was with that memory in her head and those emotions in her heart that she finally moved. She pulled the chair next to him and sat, her elbow on the table as she rested her face on her palm.

“What the fuck, Arthur?” she sighed, her eyes searching his.

Laughter burst from his lips, but she recognized this one. It wasn’t that breathy huff before a genuine smile painted his lips. This was the laughter he couldn’t contain. The one that hurt him and wouldn’t let him get enough oxygen into his lungs. This was the laughter that left him hunched over in pain, gasping for air and afraid.

Y/N pursed her lips, mentally kicking herself for triggering him like this, and placed her hand on his back as she hummed Durante’s Smile, hoping it was as comforting for him as it was for her.

He was always singing something, nothing she ever knew of course. He had once wrinkled his nose in the most adorable way when she had played some of her music for him, her AC/DC and Bon Jovi “too loud” for him. She had laughed and they had both agreed that music could be important to both of them without necessarily meaning the same type of music.

Still, this one was one of the few “oldies” she had in her repertoire, and she hoped it was offering him some comfort.

As his chest stopped heaving and his laughter had been reduced to sporadic bursts that didn’t leave him as breathless, he began to speak.

“Lee is trying to free me. She is helping me, Y/N.”

“Arthur,” she began, her eyes shutting as she tried to keep her distaste for Lee from her face.

“We’re going to build a mountain! We’re going to be happy! And you just want me locked up. She said-”

Her hands balled into fist over his suit, and she had to make a conscious effort to pull away and not pull at his clothes.

“She said what, Arthur?” she asked, her voice tight with poorly disguised anger.

“That you- you don’t want to help. That- that you’re like them. You underestimate me and you think I’m dumb, and you don’t care about me. And-”

She raised her hand to silence him, using the other to push away from the table and get herself to her feet, needing space from him.

“I’m here, jeopardizing my job to beg you to please let us help you. Every day I go home from the office, I have to make sure nobody is following to scream at me, throw rotten shit at me or hit me because I am defending you. Which has happened by the way. And every day, every fucking day Arthur, I go back into that office and stay there until the break of fucking dawn trying to find a way to help you. And you’re telling me I don’t care? Because the one who is actively sabotaging your defense told you so?”

Maryanne came back inside at that, surprise on her face at the tone Y/N had taken which usually only she used when she needed to strongarm stubborn clients.

“You know what? I actually don’t fucking care whether you fire Maryanne or not. I quit regardless.”

Y/N ignored Maryanne’s calls and she certainly didn’t look back at Arthur as she stormed out of the room, with what felt like her whole heart stuck in her throat as she blinked the tears away.

She knew it wasn’t fair to talk to Arthur like that and much less to up and abandon him. Even if that was what he was asking for. She had proved to him once more that everyone left him when he needed them the most, but his words had cut her too deep.

She had poured her heart into doing everything in her power to help. She had called witnesses, she had read over files numerous times, fighting through the tears as she read about every despicable thing Arthur had lived through.

When what she read began plaguing her dreams, she would get back up and continue her work at home, hoping to find the smoking gun that would get the world to see he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. He was a product of his fucked-up upbringing and the disregard society had for the poor and ill. Arthur needed help, proper help he was not going to receive where he was currently locked up at and so every day she worked. How could he say she didn’t care? How could he believe her? Y/N was in his corner first. Which was a stupid sentiment. Childish even. She still couldn’t stop feeling it.

-------------------------------

Y/N couldn’t remember how she had gotten home. She must’ve taken the right buses because there she was, keys in her hand and her back to her door as she blinked into her dark apartment.

With a sigh, broken and drawn out, she took off her shoes and chucked her briefcase and purse somewhere into the living room. She’d look for them in the morning but now, she was a woman on a mission as she stalked toward her kitchen, two things on her mind. Vodka and ice cream.

As she carried her bowl and the entire bottle into the living room, the phone rang. She groaned and looked down at her occupied hands. There was clearly only one thing to do. Y/N poured a hefty amount of vodka into her ice cream and set the bottle aside as she grabbed the phone and carefully held it between her ear and shoulder.

“What the hell happened to ‘I’m gonna fucking try’?” the voice on the other end laughed.

“I will hang up on you if you’re calling to scream at me. Or make fun of me. I’m off the clock, you can do it tomorrow and pay me for it,” she grumbled, shoveling a spoonful of her special ice-cream into her mouth.

“You’ve been ballsy today,” Maryanne snorted and Y/N rolled her eyes at the sound.

“Can I help you or…?”

“He’s not firing us.”

“Good! Best of luck to y-”

“-on one condition. He wants you back on the case.”

Y/N scoffed, wincing as the too big spoonful of ice cream momentarily froze her brain. “And you told him to fuck off?”

“I most certainly did not. I said we would go up to see him tomorrow bright and early because you have a good head on your shoulders and a lengthy career ahead of you and you’re not going to let a stupid crush keep you from working this case, winning it, and watching your career take off.”

Y/N glared into her bowl, her eyes following the puddle forming around the lump of speckled white, both from the vodka she had added and the heat from her hands that was melting the rest.

“He’s a person. Why can’t we just help him because he deserves it? Not because of what that can do for us?”

Maryanne sighed and her tone softened, “We’re doing that too, Y/N.”

They spent a couple of minutes on the line going over ideas on how to salvage the shitshow that was today before they both agreed to meet at Arkham bright early tomorrow morning.

Y/N had an idea. She thought it would gain sympathy from the jury and get rid of Lee. That would break Arthur, but it would help their case. Even if it meant he hated her for it.

-----------------------------------

Y/N refused to look at him. It was “Mr. Fleck” this and that and even Maryanne couldn’t contain her laugh.

Still, the backstabbing bitch found a way to leave them alone for a bit, something about speaking to the warden about something. Oh, Y/N could’ve killed her.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I-”

Okay, maybe shoving an unlit cigarette in his mouth was childish, but if it kept him from speaking to her, who was actually winning?

Absentmindedly, she lit the cigarette with the lighter she always seemed to carry now. Even though she didn’t smoke. This definitely did not coincide with meeting Arthur.

Arthur sighed and took out the cigarette, putting it out on the ashtray as best he could with shackled hands before trying to apologize once more. “Y/N I-”

“You hurt me. What you said was mean and hurtful. And-” Y/N faltered as she tried swallowing down the knot in her throat. “I know she is, you know. But you know me. You know I care. And you still doubted me.”

Their eyes met and her breath caught in her chest. His eyes had the tendency to change according to his surroundings. The room they were in was poorly lit, but the pale hues of his jumpsuit still found a way to reflect on his eyes. They were favoring the ocean today, the one that used to be in her backyard during her childhood. The ocean that lulled her to sleep and brought her safety and comfort. His ocean was currently twinkling with unshed tears, and she hated being responsible for that.

Maryanne barreled into the office in that moment, not paying attention to them as she slammed a file on to the table.

“She has been lying to you and using you to get back at her rich daddy. And it’s about time you knew.”

Y/N turned to Maryanne, her eyes wide in shock. This was news to her and certainly not the plan of attack they had come up with last night. The plan was to get Arthur to denounce the Joker as a figure meant to incite riots and violence. Y/N figured that the minute that Arthur separated himself from the madness and violence done in his name by people who didn’t know or care about him, Lee would leave. Since she was just in it for the exposure. For Joker, not Arthur.

Arthur was meant to bring attention to who he was. A hardworking, devoted son who woke up day after day and went to work and sought out help and wanted to get better. He just needed a little bit of help to get back on his feet and the death penalty was not the way to go. That was the fucking plan. Not this!

“Maryanne?”

“Y/N? Did you know?”

At this, Y/N found herself at his side, his shackled hand in hers as she gazed into his eyes. “No, Arthur. I did not. Please believe me this time.”

Arthur nodded and Y/N dropped his hand, sending Maryanne a glare before she picked up the file and read on.

She could feel the warmth of Arthur’s body as he leaned into her to read the file as well.

Arthur had told her that Lee had set fire to her mother’s home. She had painted quite a story for him, and Arthur believed her.

Instead, she was a rich girl who hadn’t struggled a day in her life. What’s more, she had voluntarily committed herself for some crazy reason, and had then convinced Arthur it was his fault she was being sent away. The only truth she had ever told him was her name. “That bitch!”

Arthur stiffened beside her, and Y/N gritted an apology through her teeth. That was still his girlfriend at the end of the day.

“I want to talk to her.”

Y/N and Maryanne looked at each other; they both knew that was a bad idea. She would find a way to twist the facts and he would believe her. She would be free to continue wreaking havoc and inching him closer to the death penalty.

Arthur was trusting and more than anything, he just wanted to be loved. To be seen. That was the key to manipulating him. She could do it too. While she knew he didn’t feel the same way for her, she was aware that she become a friend to him and she could use that to get him to do what she wanted him to do. What she needed him to do for his own good.

Just thinking about it made her feel wretched and she knew she couldn’t do that. Especially after she had just begged him to trust her seconds ago. No. She had to do better. He deserved that much.

“Arthur,” she began, turning to him and taking his hands into hers once more, “can you give me a few moments of your attention? No interruptions. No questions. Just listen to me for a minute. And then I promise to listen to you. Can you do that?”

His head tilted to the side as his eyes bore into hers, trying to figure her out. Everyone always brought up his upbringing, his poverty, his low IQ. As if that made him less. As if life hadn’t seen all of that and still deemed it necessary to teach him lessons in the hardest, most despicable ways possible. Arthur had the uncanny ability to see through people’s intentions. He knew when he was the butt of the joke. But he wanted to be loved and so he put up with the taunts and the abuse because a part of himself thought it was a small price to pay to be loved. What a silly, hauntingly beautiful man. God, when had this become more than a crush?

With a nod and a squeeze to her hands, Arthur broke her from her reverie. And so she talked.

She explained how it would be a good idea to hold off on talking to her. How, it was great that they loved each other (that was a lie but he didn’t need to know that) but the public didn’t care for that. How, as much as we shouldn’t care what the world has to say about us, in this instance, public opinion literally held his life in their hands. Finally, she explained how she would not be able to live with herself if they were unable to win his case, if the same society that failed him again and again won in the end and took his life. Y/N begged him to please let her help him in the best way she knew how. She reassured him how Lee and he could go back to being a happy couple as soon as this was over and nobody would be able to tell him otherwise. What she didn’t say, however, was how she didn’t think Lee would stick around when the news outlets and camera flashes stopped following her every move. He could hate her for the rest of his life so long as he was off death row and living the life he always deserved. She could live with that.

“I know it’s not what you want. You deserve to talk to her and ask her to clear this up. I’m asking for the impossible from you, Arthur. But I need you to help me help you. Yes?”

His face was contorted in agony and despair, the lines around his eyes deepening as he furrowed his brows and a part of herself broke knowing she was once again the cause for his pain.

She didn’t speak and neither did Maryanne; they both knew the ball was now on Arthur’s side of the court and whatever he decided would dictate the course of his case.

“How much longer will this go on for?”

----------------------------------

They left with a tentative agreement from Arthur. He wasn’t willing to cut off contact with Lee for too long and so now they had the difficult task of trying to end this trial quickly, and in their favor.

“I have a feeling he would hate this. But… what if we file a written motion for a change of venue?”

“That would push the trial date back, Y/N.”

“Yes, but you know the riots and general unrest in the city are not doing him any favors. Any jury picked from Gotham is going to convict him no matter how good our case is. And-” Y/N trailed off, collapsing into the sofa in Maryanne’s office.

“-and it creates more distance between Arthur and Lee if we move it?” Maryanne finished knowingly, handing her over her own glass of whiskey.

Y/N grumbled a plea for her to be quiet and took a generous gulp of her drink, scowling at Maryanne’s laughter.

“You know, Dent is not going to agree to that.”

At this, Y/N smirked and straightened in her seat, “oh! Did I forget to tell you how he got Sophie Dumond to testify in court?”

“Did you find something?”

“No. But I can.” She begun, shushing Maryanne before she could even get a word in. “Do not ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

Maryanne nodded and with that, Y/N left her office and made her way to her own, to draft up the motion and call up one of her old contacts.

Fabricated evidence would never hold its own in court, but the threat of said fabricated evidence tarnishing Harvey Dent’s stellar reputation? Well. That would work. Y/N meant it when she said she would do everything in her power to give Arthur a fair shot at the life he always deserved. And he would never know the lengths she’d go to. Because she didn’t need him in her debt. Y/N just wanted him to have his happily ever after. With whoever and wherever.

-------------------

Lee had not taken the forced separation from Arthur well. It had been a week since they had filed the motion and had gotten it approved. Once news outlets caught wind of it no longer taking place in the city and noting Lee’s absence from the hearing, and general cluelessness about everything that was going on, they had lost their interest in her. She was no longer page one worthy news and judging by the number of times she stopped by the office, shouting and shoving at the security guards, she was not handling it well.

Which is why it was no surprise to her when she received a call from Arkham’s high security wing from a contact, letting her know Lee was currently in a visit with Arthur, despite explicit instructions to the warden to not allow her in.

She was in the area and so she quickly flagged down a cab, cursing up a storm and throwing the driver a few extra bills to entice him to break any laws necessary to get her there as soon as possible.

Once there, she knew exactly who had allowed Lee in, if the terrified expression on his face was anything to go by.

“Sullivan, I swear to God I will sue you and every single one of your fucking descendants if you don’t open this goddamn door.” She seethed, satisfaction filling her as he jumped off of his stool, his fingers clumsily clicking and clacking in his rush.

With a final glare, she stalked into the visiting area as soon as the gate was unlocked. She paused momentarily and gave a final warning over her shoulder, locking eyes with the only one who needed to hear it. “And if you take this out on Arthur, I will know. Remind me, what was your lovely granddaughter’s name again? She’s a second grader now, isn’t she?”

She watched him gulp and nod before she gave him a smile dripping with every ounce of distaste she had for him and continuing her trek.

Instantly, she caught sight of Lee’s back. She also saw Arthur. His lips pursed even if his eyes shouted the love and adoration he felt for her. Her heart melted at the knowledge that he was trying to keep his word and not talk to Lee. Even if she was right in front him and there was likely nothing he wanted more.

“What are you standing there for?” She barked at the guard in the corner.  “Get her out of here. She is not an approved visitor, and you know that.”

Arthur’s eyes flew to her face the minute he heard her voice; his eyes wide and pleading, almost as if begging her to believe he had nothing to do with the woman currently in front of him.

Y/N barely had the chance to reassure him before Lee’s hand connected with her face, a sharp smack ringing into the silence of the visitation area.

Her jaw tightened as she brought her hand up to her cheek, her eyes hardening as she wiped away the blood drawn by the ring Lee was wearing.

The silence was cut by Arthur’s shout of Lee’s name and Y/N felt the proverbial butterflies in her stomach at the sight of Arthur’s angry expression directed towards Lee. His eyes, stormy and narrowed as a scowl marred his usually smiling lips; Y/N was ridiculously in love.

“Don’t you get it?!” Lee shouted, struggling against the guards who were dragging her out, “She is trying to keep us apart because the little bitch wants you all to herself!”

Y/N watched as she was finally out of the visitation area, smirking in satisfaction as she hissed after stupidly banging at the iron door keeping her out.

A part of her wanted to stay that way, her back to Arthur as she willed the universe to open up and swallow her whole. She likely would’ve stayed there long after visiting hours were over had she not heard the soft call of her name. Like a moth to a flame, like a sailor falling prey to the siren’s song, Y/N turned and closed the gap between them. As much as she could with the glass in between them, at least.

“Is it true?” Y/N didn’t know if he was asking about whether she was trying to keep them apart on purpose or even worse, about the crush, but answering neither would be of no help.

“I told you from the beginning, everything I do is for your own good. Not because you can’t make decisions on your own, but because I know how things work in these cases and I want to use that knowledge to help you. The power is in your hands, Arthur. You can choose to let me go whenever you like.”

And he could. He could choose to hire someone else. Or worse even, to represent himself. But she didn’t mean it that way and she prayed he hadn’t caught her slip up. Even if it would be good if he did.

Maybe then he could release her from the hold he had on her, a hold he likely didn’t even know about. Maybe then he could stop doing things that were confusing her. Like smiling at her like she was the only person in the world. Or murmuring her name, soft and intimate, like it was made from fragile glass. Maybe then she could get her head out of her ass and behave like the professional she was before she met him. Before she fell for him.

Oh, but sweet, shy, lovely Arthur didn’t catch it. For someone who was as in love with the idea of love as he was, he was quite blind to people who actually cared for him and loved him for him. She hated and loved that about him.

He nodded, his face softening with a smile that lit up her whole world and she cursed him and loved him a little more for it.

--------------------------------

These had been the most agonizing weeks of her life, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine how Arthur had been feeling. Alas, the day was finally here. Today would decide Arthur’s fate.

These last few weeks had been tedious, and Y/N had learned just how high her threshold for hate could go. More than once, she was ready to bash Dent’s head with a chair, that’s how despicable she found him. She didn’t understand how he had built a reputation of a respectable, protector of justice, when he was quite frankly a piece of shit.

Y/N had convinced Maryanne not only to change the venue, but also to move it to a more affluent area. Y/N knew there was nothing rich people loved more than pretending they cared about the little people and with the evidence they had to support Arthur’s not guilty by insanity plea, she knew the rich people who would encompass the jury would be on their side. They would be able to boast about their good deed and feel better about being filthy rich while the rest of the city died.

They wouldn’t be making the wrong call. They had more than sufficient evidence to support their claim, and anybody with half a braincell would agree that Arthur needed help in the form of rehabilitation, not incarceration.

Why then, was it that this pillar of justice was so adamant to lock Arthur up and throw away the key? Almost like he was also just after what convicting Arthur would do for his career. God, Y/N could kill him.

Arthur was a bundle of nerves beside her. She was a tad concerned that he would dislocate a knee with how he was bouncing it. She couldn’t look at him, afraid that he would see how nervous she was as well and that that would set him off, so she simply placed her hand on his knee and squeezed reassuringly.

She heard him inhale to say something, but the jury walked in, the bailiff and judge right after. Her insides origami’d themselves into a gnawing creature as she helped Arthur to his feet and stood as close to him as professionally acceptable.

As the foreman affixed his reading glasses atop his nose and cleared his throat to begin reading the verdict, Y/N sent one last prayer above. This had to go in Arthur’s favor, or she didn’t know how she would live with herself.

“We, the Jury, having carefully considered all the evidence presented in this case, find the defendant, Arthur Fleck, not guilty by reason of insanity.”

Everything else was drowned out in the rush of blood inundating her head and she found herself with an armful of Arthur, his face cradled in the crook of her neck as he cried. She was counting on Maryanne to listen to the rest of the verdict as she clung to Arthur and whispered reassurances in his ear.  

------------------------------

“So what now?” Arthur asked, looking so fragile and small as he sat in the corner of the interview room they had been sent to as they made preparations for his transfer. The minute he had been uncuffed and had been able to decide himself where to go, he had picked that corner to retreat to.

Y/N’s heart broke at the realization that this had been the first time in years he had been able to make a decision as simple as this and she had found herself sitting next to him, his hand in hers as she traced soothing patterns on the back of it.

“Maryanne is drafting a document asking the court to take into account the time you have already served. If we are lucky, you’ll only be required the three-month rule in a state institution, and then your life begins. Well, kind of. You’ll be required therapy for the rest of your life, but that is a good thing. I will ensure that whoever sees you now actually cares and helps. I promise,” she finished with a squeeze to his hand, a smile on her face as he breathed out a soft laugh.

“Will you visit?” he murmured after some time, not quite turning to look at her but she could feel his eyes gazing at her from under his eyelashes, as if afraid of her answer.

“As many times as you want me to,” Y/N reassured, slightly distraught at how vehemently she meant that. Fuck, she was stupid in love with a man who saw her as nothing more than a friend.

“Every day,” he beamed. His eyes finally meeting hers and she marveled at the weight that had clearly lifted from his shoulders. His bejeweled emerald eyes shined brightly in the dimly lit room and for a split second, she forgot how to breathe. She didn’t think breathing was as important as not missing a second of the awe-inspiring sight in front of her. The way his chestnut locks framed his face, or the way his thick lashes dusted the thin, purplish skin of his eyelids. He was beautiful and how she wished to be the one to gaze upon him every day. Sadly…

“Have you talked to Lee?”

Her smile tightened and she cleared her throat, hoping to swallow down the distaste. “I called her myself after the verdict but got her answering machine. As soon as she calls back, I will let you know.”

“I think she’s mad. I hope she doesn’t hate me,” he mused sadly, his shoulders slumping forward.

“You did what you had to do for your wellbeing. She loves you, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Y/N consoled, nudging him with her shoulder. “Besides, you can blame me if you want. That way she can’t be mad at you.”

His eyes searched her face until they settled on the new scar on her face, courtesy of Lee. From the corner of her eyes, she saw his free hand nearing her face, but right before he could make contact, she jumped up. Y/N didn’t know if she could come back from knowing what his hands felt like on her face.

“There is another thing we must discuss, Arthur,” she began, hoping she was successfully playing off how flustered being so close to him made her. “Medication. I know you don’t like the way you feel but taking it will likely be a requirement.”

He slumped over once more, an adorable pout taking over his lips and Y/N cursed the heavens for the feelings lighting up sparks within her.

They discussed the topic a bit more, and Y/N died a little when he admitted he was not aware he was allowed to ask to be switched to other medications until they found a good fit for him. He assumed the lifeless, zombie-state was the norm and Y/N’s heart broke a little more for him. He deserved the world and she wanted to be the one to give it him.

Maryanne came in then, a grin on her face as she sat on a chair, beckoning for the other two to do the same.

Y/N obliged and offered Arthur her hand to help him up, then guided him to a chair and took one next to him. He looked at her then, questioning, but all she could do was shrug as she did not know what Maryanne’s grin was about.

Their questioning looks soon turned to astonishment as Maryanne explained how the judge, who happened to regularly play golf with her husband, had agreed that the time Arthur had served should be taken into account. What’s more, he believed one of the ways society could atone for its sins against Arthur was to waive the three month rule and set Arthur free, to the care of a guardian who would assume responsibility for him. He would still be required to attend counseling for the rest of his life, and follow any guidelines his medical team recommended, but that was of course next to nothing compared to being institutionalized.

Y/N’s mouth hung open; she could almost feel her jaw unhinge as she tried to comprehend the feat Maryanne had just accomplished.

“I- I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Her heart, bruised and battered, broke a little more at the sound of his broken whisper and she turned to him, words of comfort on her lips before Maryanne cut her off.

“Sure you do. Y/N is the court-appointed guardian the judge, Dent and I agreed on.” Maryanne said this nonchalantly, but Y/N could hear the smugness on her voice. “By the way Y/N, verify your address with accounting. Due to your new circumstances, we’ll have to ship a PC to your home. I’m thinking you can do three days at home and two in the office? Or as necessary. We’ll figure that out later. For now, we have accommodations to make.”

She then sashayed out of the room, and had it not been for Arthur’s hand on her shoulder, Y/N would’ve sat there frozen for God know how long.

“Is- is that okay? You can say no, Y/N. I don’t want to trouble you.” He said this with a smile, and she knew that even if she refused to house him and this meant he would lose his freedom and go back to being incarcerated, he would truly not hold that against her. God, he was so good. How could anyone ever think about hurting him? When he deserved nothing short of the world?

“And why would I do that, roomie?”

The grin he gave her was like the sun peaking from the horizon on a freezing December morning. Nothing could’ve ever topped it, except for the tight hug he gave her.

-------------------------------------

It had been a couple of months since Arthur had moved in. The first few days were… a learning experience. She tried to accustom herself to having another person living under her roof, a person she had feelings for but could not act on. And Arthur was trying to remember how to be free again. As free as he could be considering the restrictions he had on him.

Y/N’s heart broke every time he forgot where he was and would wait around for the door to be unlocked and opened for him. As he waited for permission he no longer needed to accomplish mundane tasks, Y/N would approach him carefully and softly, as if afraid to shock him, and she’d remind him that he could move as he pleased. She’d remind him that he was home now (God, how she hoped he felt like he was home) and was in charge of his actions.

Without fail, wonder filled his eyes, and he looked around the room, as if taking it in and reminding himself where he was before settling on her face. And then, then he’d steal her breath as he smiled at her, soft and sweet. Oh, how she loved him.

Lee had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. As much as she didn’t want to, for Arthur, she had called in favors to try and find her.  To no avail.

Last she heard, her parents had shipped her overseas to distance her from everything she had said and done in front of the cameras, but that was the last they had been able to find about her.

Arthur was of course heartbroken, but he claimed he was at least happy knowing she was safe. It didn’t matter that she no longer loved him and didn’t want to see him.

For her part, Y/N swore that if she ever saw her, she’d rip her face off and keep it as a trophy.

Today was one of the rare days off they had. Arthur had no session today and she had finished her work for the week. After breakfast, she had asked him what he wanted to do for the day and, without missing a beat, he had suggested a walk around the city.

The area Y/N lived in was on the other side from where Arthur grew up. It was decidedly nicer, cleaner and nobody seemed to know or care who Arthur was. Arthur loved going on walks whenever they both had the time, and without fail, he would steal yet another piece of her heart as he marveled at the most mundane things they encountered on their walks.

She recalled the giggle that escaped his lips the first time they had come across a flock of ducks in the park and Y/N could do nothing more but slip into a bodega to purchase frozen peas so Arthur could feed the ducks. Nothing could put a price on the delight lighting up his face.

And so, the plan was the same today. As they walked out of the familiar bodega, hand in hand and frozen peas secured, Y/N marveled at how good of a life she had.

As they made their way to the park, they stopped every few houses and marveled at the Halloween decorations adorning the streets. It was mid-October, her favorite time of the year, and she loved the way the city looked.

As they approached an empty park bench, she turned to Arthur, wanting to point out the ducks to him only to find him already looking at her.

That had been a recent development and she wished she could ask him to stop. She, of course, couldn’t do that. Not without explaining that her heart threatened to leap out of her chest and into his hands whenever he looked at her like that. Not without confessing her feelings to him, which would be incredibly unfair.

He didn’t feel that way and she had no right to take away the only safe place he had ever had. Arthur deserved a good life, he deserved to experience everything that had been denied from him his whole life and she couldn’t rob him of that by telling him about her silly little feelings.

What was she supposed to do when he told her he didn’t feel the same? Even worse was the thought of him feeling pressured to reciprocate out of fear his new world would be yanked from his feet. No. She would never tell him. But God, how she prayed he would stop looking at her like that. How she wished to dig into her chest and rip out her heart, to lock it in a box and shove it somewhere it could never come back from. How she wished not to feel. Just for a bit.

They sat at the park for what was certainly hours. He talked about his sessions and how they had finally settled on a medication that did not make him feel dead. It made him a bit sleepy, he said. But he could think, feel, and eat.

That she could attest to. He often asked for seconds during meals and just last week, when she was coming out of her room for a mid-day break from work, she had encountered a shirtless Arthur coming out of the restroom after a shower. Recovering from the shock, she turned back to her room with a squeak but not before allowing her eyes to roam his shirtless frame. She had noticed how his ribs were no longer protruding, and there was a softness cushioning his belly that was not there before when she had helped him dress for his trial, which seemed like eons ago now.

In turn, she talked about work without going into many details. Confidentiality and all. And she asked about the at-home nurse that would come in whenever Y/N had to go into the office. Arthur had no complaints and he confessed she almost felt like a mother, a proper one. Y/N grabbed his gloved hand and squeezed, a surprised squeak leaving her lips when he pressed his forehead against hers. If her breath hadn’t abandoned her, and her limbs obeyed her, she likely would’ve pushed him away. Instead, she shut her eyes and allowed the tremors to wash down her back and could do nothing but nod dumbly when he suggested they head back.

--------------------------------

 The walk back had been quiet. She thought she had done well at not making it awkward despite the silence from her part.

A talk would likely need to happen. If she wanted to hold on to the last bits of her sanity, boundaries would have to be set. Maybe she’d take up Sam’s weekly invitations to go out for drinks after work. Maybe that was what she needed to get over Arthur. Or to at least not go into cardiac arrest over physical contact.

He unlocked the door for them, likely realizing her dazed state and gently guided her inside and on to the couch.

Arthur left her eyesight for a bit, and she figured he had gone into his room. Even as she heard clattering in the kitchen, she didn’t turn to look, too lost in her thoughts.

It wasn’t until he reappeared in front of her, a steaming mug of hot cocoa in hand, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows like he knew she liked, that she broke through her dazed state.

“I thought you were cold, so I made this for you,” he began as he set it on the coffee table in front of her. He then reached around and grabbed the blanket draped over the couch and fluffed it before wrapping it around her. “I shouldn’t have made you stay outside this late. I forgot how cold it gets.”

Like a petulant child, she pulled the blanket over her head with a groan, wanting to lovingly punch his stupid face for making her feel feelings. This was too much for her.

Arthur laughed out a ‘what’s wrong?’ as he attempted to free her from her self-made blanket prison, soft giggles leaving him the more she fought against him.

Knowing she wasn’t going to win this battle, she broke free, furrowing her brows as she looked at the giggling man beside her.

Arthur snorted and reached over to smooth down her hair, his eyes twinkling with amusement, his cheeks flushed and lips curled in a smile.

“Arthur,” she began, grabbing his hands and placing them on his lap before folding hers in front of her chest, as if that was going to protect her heart.

“You know I care for you. And I will always be here for you. But-”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have…” he trailed off. He remained silent for a few seconds before giving himself a reassuring nod. His eyes met Y/N’s briefly before he turned to focus on the long-forgotten mug. “Dr. Sloane recommended I tell you how I feel but- I’m not good with words, Y/N. I hoped my actions could, I don’t know,” he trailed off with a half-hearted shrug.

Y/N, on the other hand, was fighting through the static ringing in her ears as she tried making sense of Arthur’s words.

“How you feel?”

“I’m sorry Y/N. You’re probably just being nice. I knew you didn’t feel the same. But Dr. Sloane said I should try and-”

“Arthur!” she called to him firmly, her hands finding his as she tried to keep him from going down the spiral he currently was. “You have feelings for me?”

Arthur nodded shyly, his eyes on their intertwined hands as he rubbed the tips of his index finger and thumb together, a nervous habit he had picked up now that he was trying to quit smoking.

“You like me? But, Lee?”

“I don’t know if she was real. If what I thought she felt or what I felt for her was real. But you,” at this he smiled, so blindingly bright that for a moment she wondered how he had captured the moonlight in his smile.

“And you haven’t noticed I’ve liked you since day one?” she interrupted him, fighting a smile as his hands stiffened in hers.

Arthur’s head snapped up as his eyes searched hers, trying to decipher whether she was lying or not. She let him look, making sure to let her face and eyes shout about the love for him she had been trying to bottle up for what felt like an eternity.

“How- Y/N, how long?” he whispered, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Since I set foot in that room, shitty joke in my notebook. Since you laughed, so soft and shy and then told me one of yours.”

He made a choking sound and before she could worry about hearing him choke on that laughter that rarely made an appearance now but he still feared, he had closed the distance between them by pulling her into him.

She squeaked and surprised, allowed him to wrap his arms around her. He felt so warm. So safe. So right.

“We’re going to have to talk about this Arthur!” she laughed, succumbing to the kisses being peppered on her face.

“I’m serious, Arthur. We’re going to talk.” Y/N valiantly tried once more, sighing at yet another peck to her nose. Her forehead. And the corner of her lips. God, this man was a fuckin’ tease.

He groaned before cupping her cheeks with his palms, warm and calloused. “We will, later. But can I please kiss you now?”

It was Y/N’s turn to silence him, her lips finding his and her eyes fluttering shut. She didn’t know how the fireworks going off in her stomach had travelled to just behind her eyelids, but as Arthur pressed his lips to hers, urgently yet sweetly, she found she didn’t really care.

In that moment, nothing mattered. Not the road they had travelled to get here. Not where the road would take them tomorrow. All that mattered to her now was how his lips, chapped and warm moved against hers. How his hands felt, one on her back, branding her with his fingertips through her clothes. The other on her cheek, his thumb ghosting over her skin, staking claim to what had long belonged to him.

Nothing mattered but him. Always him. Forever him.

[darknessisafriend]

I was wondering if you could write one with Joaquin's characters about how would they react to getting neck smooches from their S/O I hope you are well in these crazy times 💓

It's finally here! I finally got time to write! I hope you will enjoy anon, @galos-writing helped me a bit with Abbe ;)

Commodus:

Commodus is always a man on his guard. So, naturally his neck wouldn’t be an easy part to reach, even for his lover. 

The truth is also that his neck is very sensitive. Commodus is secretly very ticklish, and his sister and mother used to tickle his neck as they played together before bed. No one had been touching his neck in years. 

The first time you tried to, you joined Commodus in his study. He was working late at night as usual, but you missed him dearly lately. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his cheek first. “My love…it is getting late...” you whispered, hoping it was obvious you needed him to warm your bed up and cool your body down. 

“I have important work to do, Y/N. I have to stay a little longer.” He replied, his eyes focused on whatever he was scribbling. As always, he would work so hard, from early in the morning to late at night, more than anyone else. Thankfully you were there to make sure he would take a break and not kill himself at the service of his People. 

You pouted at first at his answer and then grinned, leaning closer to his ear “His Highness won’t regret it...” you purred in his ear, nibbling his ear lobe, kissing his jaw and then daring a plant a kiss in his neck, right on his calmly pulsing jugular.

He froze at first, not expecting a kiss there, used to a feeling of coldness due to his armor. Your lips felt soft and warm, the opposite of a cold and hard blade he could have expected.

His skin had goosebumps and he looked down, pondering how to react, if he should let down his defense like he did so many times with you before. He made his quill lightly roll between his thumb and index as he thought. The kiss had been surprising, and yet it felt nice but too quick. “Y/N, can you do that again?” he quietly asked. 

You smiled in relief, you had been holding your breath the whole time, fearing it might have triggered him badly. Surprisingly it didn’t, probably because he had a lot more trust in you than he would think. 

This time, you would place your kiss slowly, your lips tracing kisses along his jugular where you felt his pulse had increased frantically, his skin warm and soft, with a strong scent of cinnamon myrrh, his favorite and prestigious perfume. It was intoxicating, just like the rest of his being. 

This time you would feel him relax under your kisses, his eyes almost closing entirely, his quill escaping his fingers that had become weak. His posture would remain high and yet his neck tilted to give you more space as one of your hands caressed his strong chest. “If my Emperor is willing to join our bed…I shall give him plenty of those...” 

“How dare you try to imp….” But Commodus wouldn’t manage to finish his sentence that a moan escaped his lips as you sucked his skin on a particularly sensitive spot. “Run…if I catch you before you get in bed, I will be the one ravaging your body.” He said, making you giggle, he knew you were fast, and he wouldn’t manage to catch you. What he wouldn’t do to make it seem like he had control while he entirely gave it up willingly the moment he fell for you.

Arthur/Joker:

Arthur adores your neck smooches, he is ticklish too but loves it anyway, probably due to his childish spirit.

You had first tried during a tickle battle actually, both of you laughing as you threw pillows at each other and tickled each other. You ended up straddling Arthur beneath you (or rather he loved to let you win). You blocked his arms and placed your lips in his neck to tickle him, something your mom used to do. 

Arthur would let out a squeal, a loud and boyish noise before laughing heartily, a happy laugh. He was fully relaxed, and he had discovered something new about himself. You would lift your head and smile at him, giving him a tender kiss on the lips. 

“Can I try?” he would ask eagerly, his eyes shining with fondness, his fingers delicately caressing your fingers. “Of course. But on one condition…I won’t go easy on you.” You teased him, challenging him to another play of pillow. And slowly a grin would form on his face, a confident one, that you knew from Joker “Don’t complain what comes afterwards darling.” He would purr. 

One thing you had noticed is that Joker had much more raw strength than Arthur, the madness sometimes gave inhuman strength. And you would be able to resist for long, Joker would be quick, naughty and sly; managing to win rapidly. You would gasp as he sent a last pillow hit that was a little too strong, making you lose your balance to fall off the bed.

But thankfully he would catch you in his arms, throwing his body first so he would take the hit and not you. He would laugh with a big smile, not reacting at all under the pain. “Told you I’d win.” He would say, already filling your neck in kisses, making you squirm as you started to giggle. 

His hand would instantly start to roam your body, Joker was more sexual than Arthur and winning you over a battle was even more exciting to his eyes. Even as he would make love to you afterwards, he would keep on filling your neck in kisses, making you laugh in that moment of intimacy. Arthur was still in there after all.

Bruno Weiss:

Bruno is a grumpy man and he doesn’t like to show himself vulnerable, only when drunk or very tired he does truly reveal himself.

His attitude does change after a while, once the trust builds up.

The first time you did it, was to tease him. He was annoyed by paperwork, keeping on muttering to himself while smoking his cigarette. “Is paying taxes such a headache?” you would ask in a chuckle, making him crush his cigarette in the ashtray. “I’m not working hard to have our money taken away from us.” he would mutter.

“Y/N” he would protest as you sat on his lap. The thing was that he was very weak for you and when you were so close to him, he wouldn’t be able to focus, and he would hate his inability to do so. 

You would grin, you just had to do one thing for him to snap. “You just have to pay darling, or should I do it?” you retorted and quickly smooched his neck before running off, chased by an angry Bruno who would soon calm down under your sweet caresses. 

After this episode, a kiss on the neck would become a soothing gesture for Bruno, one more reminder that he didn’t have to keep his defenses in front of you, that he could be vulnerable. It would be a reminder you would always be there, that you wouldn’t abandon him like everyone else did.

Charlie:

The first time you kissed Charlie in the neck, it didn’t go well, he had the worst reaction you could have expected from him.

You were sitting by the fire with a few companions and his brother. In a moment  of tenderness you would have sat behind him to hug him, placing a kiss on his cheek then neck. However, would quickly tense up, ignoring the soft smile of his brother at the scene. “What the fuck are you doing!?” Charlie would exclaim, instantly leaving your embrace “I’m not some kind of fag!” he would storm angrily to smoke a cigarette. Everyone would turn their eyes away from you in embarrassment except Ellie, patting your shoulder reassuringly “You know he didn’t mean it.”

And indeed, despite hurting, you knew Charlie was keeping a rough mask in front of everybody and you had brushed it off without thinking.

You would leave him alone for some time to process his gesture. He would be silent, feeling awkward after his outburst, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“I’m sorry Charlie. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad” you would apologize sincerely. You knew he had a rough past and he was the little brother always acting tough to protect the ones he loved, it had cost him half of his sanity. 

“I don’t trust everyone here. I don’t want them to think…” he sighed, throwing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with the heel of his boot.

You would approach him, wanting to hug him from behind but as you reached out your hand you wouldn’t dare to touch him.

I know. You don’t have to explain yourself. I won’t do it again.” you would offer softly, doing your best to accommodate your struggling lover.

“What are they doing? Are they looking?” he would ask after a moment of silence. You would look back “No, they went to sleep. Ellie is kissing his…scarf.” you replied, an intimate gesture his brother didn’t fear to show.

“Can you do it again?” he would ask in a mutter, you would hear his voice on the edge like a great effort he would make to let down his barriers and he would not repeat himself, fearing.

Joe:

The neck would be a triggering part for Joe, always has been as a soldier. This was part he would have to protect often during the war. But you wouldn’t be aware of this specific trigger point. 

One day, as he would be reading, you wouldn’t pay attention and would come to hug him from behind, you were light footed so he tensed up at first. But when it instantly followed with a kiss on the neck, something cool applying to his skin, triggered a past trauma. 

He would gasp and under the flash push you away strongly, making you fall heavily on the ground, pretty much hitting your head at the same time. “Joe what…” you would manage to say, blinking a few times the stars in your eyes. You would find him curled up in a corner, his arms wrapped around his head and neck as an attempt to protect himself.

Your eyes would widen at the sight, understanding he had been severely triggered. In fact, you now remembered reading some articles about it, how strangling and throat slitting was attempted on some factions of soldiers by the enemy and it was surely what had triggered him.

“Joe it’s me. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you.” you would apologize on the verge of tears from the state he was in.

After that it would take a while for him to calm down, he would be closed into silence, feeling guilty of his own reactions to a simple kiss. But you would work things out as always, taking baby steps in trying to eliminate that trigger, his service dog helping as well, nuzzling his truffle in his neck while cuddling.

You would make sure to eliminate the effect of surprise during that gesture, coming to stand in front of him, caressing his chest and slowly tying your arms around his neck, asking for permission to kiss his neck. And it would work out well after many months of trial. You wouldn’t do it much tho cause you didn’t want to push this too fast, besides you loved kissing his lips, chest and arms much better.

With time Joe would grow to like it as well, it was much nicer to open his neck to a loving kiss rather than a cold blade. 

Max California:

- Max California loves neck kisses. He is a very physical lover so when he is with you he is rather clingly, and especially loves PDA, he is a possessive lover but not in a toxic way, he would simply be very proud of you. 

-  Very early in your relationship you would have gone onto neck kisses, at the shop as you assisted you would often lean against him hugging you from behind, placing lazy kisses from time to time as you both await clients to pick their next dirty products. Your neck was constantly filled with hickeys so the clients wouldn’t bother you. 

- However, Max himself was often subject to passion from clients and strangers, men and women desiring the dark punk boy working in a sex shop wearing a crop top. That would make you terribly annoyed and you knew an efficient way to mark your territory. Just do the same!

-  As you had gone to refill a shelf of porn magazines, you would decide to surprise him. Instead of going to insert yourself between his arms, you would hug him from behind as he chatted with a female client, filling his neck in small smooches, looking at the client in the eyes. Without surprise she would understand the message and leave promptly.

- Max would grin and turn his head to meet your eyes “Do you think she had any chance with me?” he would ask, making you blush and bite his neck in protest, making him chuckle. “But keep going, I like it.” He would add, his hand coming to caress your cheek before focusing on work again. 

-You would retain a happy squeal, muffling it against his skin before kissing it. Max wouldn’t be too sensitive on the neck so at first, he wouldn’t get aroused. He would simply be very happy of your attention, that you took the lead. He was a feminist after all so he would encourage such things in public and also loved to be under your control. 

-One day, after a weekend apart Max would even surprise you with a tattoo, red lips modeled on the lipstick you often left in his neck. He would wear a proud grin on his face. “What’d you think?” he asked, very pleased with himself and to show he was a marked territory already.

- “I think I still need to add a little bit more purple to it, you know, to make it livelier.” You grinned back, opening your arms and wrapping them around his neck as you would passionately make out.

Abbe:

As the composed and religious man of God he is, the Abbé has never experienced an intimate touch from no one. 

This has given him incredible awkwardness when he started feeling carnal desires for you besides romantic feelings, his religious trauma and brainwash made him believe he was a sinner and regret his own nature of man. Your love for him made you feel bad for his condition, so of course you tried to help him.

You already knew he would go crazy in the worst way possible if you had taken the lead without psychologically telling him, so you planned to slowly introduce him to physical affection. So you invited him for tea to ‘innocently chitchat’.

During the talk, he seemed still pretty nervous about the topic, but less than usual. It felt like a good sign for you, but you didn’t expect his next request.

The Abbé was actively avoiding your gaze as he parted his lips to speak, his cheeks turned a bright red. “Might I… dare to kiss you?” He asked in almost a whisper, making you blush and then scoff; his excessive politeness was adorable to you. You nodded, and approached, ready for a quick peck. You didn’t expect him to grab your shoulders and capture your lips for a goofy yet extremely heated kiss. 

You could hear him let out little noises already despite you weren’t touching him either. So, when the kiss was over, you smirked, licking your lips, delighted by that kiss, and leaned closer, brushing your lips against his neck. You could hear a gasp escape his lips, which lowkey turned you on. 

So you started by giving his neck a first soft kiss, noticing his chest moving up and down faster and his heartbeat louder. He swallowed down, trying to reluctantly pull back, it was obvious he was loving those kisses yet he thought it was wrong. “Y/N…”, he whimpered, letting out soft moans for every kiss you gave him. Every moan of his was one more shiver of excitement running through your spine. 

You suddenly felt your clothes being grabbed by his fists, his noises became a bit louder and his hips were starting to slightly jerk forward. Unfortunately that thick pitch black cassock was leaving no room for imagination, but you knew underneath he was fighting against a massive boner.

Suddenly, after you gently nibbled a spot on his throat, he let out a high pitched whimper, obviously choking other noises in his throat and trembling a bit, his mouth was agape. You stepped back, thinking you hurt him, but after some seconds, he was heavily painting and squeezing his legs together: he came just with your neck kisses. 

You would have lied if you said you weren’t proud of yourself. Especially after he looked at you dead in the eye and said: “There’s no turning back after this, right…?”. He seemed defeated, yet somehow relieved when you shook your head, hopeful to get further with him. Finally.

Merill

Merill is a lover of PDA and of neck kisses as well. Which means that naturally he would give them to you.

He is a protective man and possessive. In public he would especially love to stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist to place a tender kiss on your neck.

Naturally you would return the favor. Merill wouldn't be surprised or taken aback, he would let you do and even lean into your touch.

For Merill, neck smooches would represent letting himself get vulnerable willingly for the one he loves.

It was something he was proud of. Merill was known across town for his strong character, his stubbornness, and impulsivity. And many thought that he wasn’t an easy man to handle, that despite attracting many girls with his look, when they got to know him they would run away. 

It wasn’t the truth actually, ladies loved how he knew what he wanted and his passion, his love for his family. And you were the lucky one, the only one he ever allowed neck kisses from, encouraging you to mark him with hickeys, show who he belonged to. 

You would especially enjoy tickling him with your lips during a baseball match, distracting him when he was getting too agitated by the bad talent of some. It would work wonderfully, to the point he would melt in your touch, his attention drifting away more and more from the match to focus on you. During the final match you would end up making out and more in the lockers room where no one would come to find you.

Tag list: @skaravile @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @galos-writing @sparklygardenerlove

[jokerislandgirl32]

The Urge To Lean Over And Kiss Him Is Real…

Can you imagine it? Because I can 🥰…

You could start by kissing his exposed neck and work your way up to his beautiful lips. The sunlight shining on his face as you close in for the kiss, he’d be smiling throughout the kiss, maybe giggling from the intimacy of the moment. He’d likely throw his arms around you and pin you to him in a bone crushing embrace. Tangling his hands in your hair (or gripping your scalp if you do not have hair 😊), and you’d be doing the same to his gorgeous locks. And when you’d finally pull away, you would both be breathless. You’d stare down at him, and he’d stare up at you. The sunlight reflecting on his face making his green eyes glitter with pure joy…

I hope you guys enjoy thinking about this as much as I have 😉!

[galos-writing]

Can you please do Arthur/joker turn on and turn offs HCs? :)

sure thing dear! sorry for the wait, i was @ the hospital for my dads surgery - nothing serious hes fine now :)

anyway i hope u like these hcs :D a little reminder that Arthur and Joker aren't two different persons so i supposed their turn ons and offs werent that different.

Warning: mention of weapons

Arthur's turn on's/off's

• Arthur Fleck is a notoriously insecure man, with peaks of anxiety when something bad happens to him. His childhood traumas and the daily negative interactions with other Gotham citizens make him shut himself in silence and raise walls around to separate him from the world where he can peacefully fantasize about having someone to actually care for him, and praise him for his skills.

• Arthur is very easy to arouse, and not exactly the type for initiating anything; he likes it better when you take the initiative. It makes him feel desired and more attractive than he thinks he is.

• What he loves more than anything is being praised: his mind goes on a frenzy at every time you tell him he's going good, or you compliment his size or his physique.

• Sometimes he'd approach you shirtless and secretly expect you to make compliments to his body, acting so confidently and showing himself off like a piece of art. Your praises instantly turn him on, so for everything he does he istantly shows it to you to get praised, and get that secret shiver down his spine that makes him wander with his imagination.

• Reassurace also makes things easier for him and encourages him to go through with it. Your sweet smiles, kisses and words of reassurance make you gain rougher thrusts and plenty of noises from him.

• Arthur is not a rough sex type: despite his imagination is extremely vivid and he knows enough to imagine a wild pornographic scenario with you, during the act he's way calmer, not having the courage to do more, and any attempt of yours to get rougher with him will instantly shut him down.

• Degradation is absolutely off the table for him: being insulted or humiliated for his manhood size, for his appearance or for any other aspect of his is an instant turn off. Not only, he would get angry and offended: you know too well, after trying to call him a 'fucking asshole' to spice things up. It didn't go well...

• Submission is something else he's attracted to: when some days are rougher than others, he would just want you to take charge of things, to take care of him. Your sweet touch and loving words would imediately send him to Heaven.

Joker's turn on's/off's

• Joker's mindset is slightly different than Arthur's, but since the matrix is the same their kinks don't differ much.

• You can tell when Joker is "out": his voice is lower, huskier, not as soft as when he's the calm and shy Arthur. And, let's say, he's definitely needier.

• Just like Arthur, Joker gets easily aroused by responsiveness: your goosebumps, shivers and whines are an instant turn on for him. His being touchier and teasing your sensitive spots more often than when Arthur does, makes him earn noises and soft sighs from you. Terrific.

• Joker is an absolute sucker for praises too: your noises and words of praise pump his ego up, making him groan and thrust harder inside you.

• He doesn't mind being dominated, but he prefers much more being the one in charge. He would get excited at your weakness under him, and he often restrains you with his hands, pinning your wrists down the mattress or wherever you two are doing it.

• However, he hates when you do it to him. He gets nervous and irritated, and would shout at you, because you would bring old traumas to him by restraining him.

• Aruhr and Joker both love when you praise them, but Joker is even more excited when you mix praises ith degradation: things like "my beautiful bastard" or the use of dirty talking is absolutely on the table.

• During Joker's moments of thirst for blood, for example when he killed Randall, his passion results more dnangerous than usual: he would include his gun during the act, getting turned while aiming at your head, or even better, giving it to you to make you aim at his head. He would close his eyes and smile while moaning and lean his head against the weapon.

tag list: @darknessisafriend @werewolf-and-go-wild @emperor-commodus @indieblair @it-vexes-me @ajokeformur-ray @fly-like-a-phoenix @hebimoonlight @jokerflecker @joaquinisart @callmejokerr @pursuit-of-comedy @five-miles-over

[arthurflecksgirl]

Christmas imagines with Arthur Advent calender DOOR 5 - Fun in the snow with Arthur

On this icy morning on December 5th the grey, worn down look of Anderson Ave disappeared under a thick blanket of white. All of the sudden this neighborhood didn't look so bad anymore. The beaten down buildings, the dirty streets, even the garbage strike was hidden behind a magical bright glimmer of snow. You watched some local children carrying their sleds. Even from a distance you could tell that they had excitement on their faces.

Arthur was sitting on the table in the corner of the living room, lost in writing. You didn't wanted to interrupt his thought process. Knowing him best from all the people in the world you knew that the expression in his face and his body posture, even the way he was mindlessly putting out his cigarette before it was finished meant that he was having a flow with his jokes. In the evening he would be proud of himself when he grabbed his journal to re visit his writing. And you would be even prouder when he would read them to you and his imaginary audience. You could stand here on the window forever, just watching him write. It was an even more beautiful view than the winter wonderland outside.

After a while of being enchanted by your wonderful husband and the noise the pencil created on the paper when he came up with he joke he was specifically happy with, you walked into the kitchen to make coffee. Filling two cups always felt special to you, even though you had been together for years now. Here from the kitchen you had an eve better view on where Arthur is sitting. You almost spilled some hot coffee looking at him.

"Are you watching me?" he grinned without looking up.

You felt yourself blushing "I'm sorry, Arthur. You're just so insanely beautiful. I can't resist looking at my beautiful husband". You placed his coffee cup beside his worn out journal. The cup said "World's best comedian". Arthur took a close look at the letters everytime before he took his first sip.

"You know if I keep writing like this, the cup might be telling the truth"

You bend forward to kiss his forehead "I'm damn sure it is!"

He closed his diary with a proud look on his face "I think I'm done for today. I came up with some great punshlines ".

"I can't wait to hear them. By the way... Did you take a look outside?"

"Outside? No. Why? I've been sitting here for quite some time. Didn't even notice how much time passed... "

"Go take a look!"

Arthur got up to hurry to the window "Oh my god"

"I know right?"

"Wow, this looks like a total different city like that. It hasn't been snowing that much since years."

"Not since we've been together anyway"

Arthur stared out the window "Right!"

"C'mon Darling, let's go outside!"

You secretly walked back to the other side of the room to grab a pair of gloves you bought for him a while ago, waiting for the perfect moment to gift them to him. It seemed that this moment was now.

You tipped his shoulder while he observed the children outside.

"Hey. I've got something for you"

"Aww... Gloves. They look so warm!"

"Try them on!"

You put the gloves onto Arthur's gentle hands. They fit perfectly as he read the writing on them "I'll keep you warm". A huge smile crossed his face "Awwwwwwww..... Thank you, baby" he gave you a hug just as warm "Now I'm ready to face the snow!"

You both got dressed, took the elevator downstairs and walked down the brand new, shiney neighborhood.

Out of nothing a snow ball hit you in the back. You turned around expecting to see a local kid but it was Arthur laughing with all his heart "Got you!" he yelled, forming another snowball, so fast you had no chance to react. Snow ball after snow ball hit you while Arthur was having the time of his life.

"Hey" you laughed back "That's not fair. You're too fast"

"Well, you gotta keep up with me then because I plan to make an army of snowballs!"

You formed a snow ball and managed to hit Arthur too. Even though he was so good in avoiding being hit. Him trying to get away from your snowballs looked almost like a dance. He was just too beautiful to handle.

And then it happened. You accidentally hit him on the face.

"Omg, Arthur, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

Arthur, seemingly surprised by the snow in his eyes just stood there for a moment, frozen until he broke out in laughter "Hahaha, I think you won this game after all. Ten points".

You tried to wipe the snow out of his face but your own icy gloves didn't seem to help much. "I didn't mean to do that. Sorry, my love". You fucused on a thick snowflake caught in his long eyelashes, as he caught you by surprise , taking you down to the ground.

"Revengeeeee!" he yelled and threw you into the ice cold blanket, laughing louder than all the kids around.

"Aaaaaaarthuuuuur" you screamed, half joyful, half caught in a jump scare as you both fell soflty into the snow.

"Do the snow angel" he smiled, completely out of breath.

And then Arthur and you spread your arms and legs to make snow angels in the middle of the sidewalk.

A man walking by shook his head "Only lunatics in his freaking neighborhood" he said.

But you didn't care. If this meant being crazy then you wanted to be crazy for the rest of your life.

"Oh wooow" said a kid walking by "Look mommy! The people over here are doing snow angels!"

Arthur looked over you "See? We did it!"

"Not so bad of a neighborhood after all huh?"

"Not today" he grinned.

You took a quick moment to look at the sky. More snow falling down your face. A moment of peace within all the chaos of Gotham city.

"Baby, I'm getting cold" he whispered through his grin.

"Me too. Let's grab some hot chocolate around the corner."

He nodded.

"Arthur?"

"Huh?"

"You're my beautiful angel!"

Arthur rolled over to meet your icy lips with his and all of the sudden it didn't seem to be so cold anymore.

[these-written-reveries]

Hello! i’m wondering if you could possibly write an Arthur Fleck fic where it’s y/n’s first time meeting Arthur. Possibly at one of his comedy shows, or in the apartments, which ever. In the fic, i just want them to possibly feel a connection between each other. Hopefully you see this!

Hi there!! Got a little carried away with this one, but I had a lot of fun writing it! I read comedy show or apartments and I was like “why not both!”😂 I hope I did your idea justice! Thank you for your request!

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The Spark ✧.*

‣ Pairing: Arthur Fleck x GN!Reader

‣ Summary: After years of searching and failing to find ‘the spark’ that lovers always talked about, you began to think it wasn’t a real possibility for you. That was, until you stumbled into a man by the name of Arthur Fleck.

‣ Genre: Fluff

‣ Warnings: None!

‣ Word Count: 5,158

‣ Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

Arthur Fleck/P!Joker Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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You absent-mindedly swirled the straw inside of your drink, one elbow positioned on the dimly lit table beside it as you supported your chin with the palm of your hand. Glancing around the room for what had to have been the hundredth time that night, you let out a disappointed sigh.

"Stood up again, huh?" You muttered to yourself. "Just my luck…"

The crowd around you laughed, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve assumed they were laughing at you. Rather, they were all focused on the pretentious man standing under the spotlight on the small platform stage. It was a Thursday night at Pogo’s, which meant the mic was open to any comedian daring enough to take on the task of trying to make the dreary people of Gotham laugh. This particular comedian seemed to have knocked it out of the park. Everyone was practically rolling out of their seats with laughter.

Everyone, but you.

You wouldn’t say you were a hard person to please when it came to humor. There were many things you found funny —even a lot of the darker stuff. Your humor just didn’t align with the misogynistic and overall bigoted jokes that seemed to be ever-flowing from this guy’s mouth. Having arrived at Pogo’s nearly an hour and a half ago, you could confidently say that the jokes from everyone else that had taken the stage that night had been no different. Quite frankly, you were bored.

It wasn’t even your idea to come to Pogo’s that night. Your date recommended it, raving about the comedian who went by the same name as the one currently on stage before you. According to him, this guy was the "comedian of the century".

You could feel your eyes threatening to roll into the back of your skull just thinking about it.

Dating in Gotham had left you jaded, and this was one of the many reasons why. You just couldn’t seem to find someone you truly felt a connection to. After being on so many first dates with multifarious characters —all of which never led to a second, you began to lose hope in finding that special someone to share your life with. At first, that reality stung like a hundred paper cuts on your lonely heart. But after some time, the loneliness faded, and you realized you didn’t really mind being alone. You enjoyed your own company better than most others’. And you never disagreed with yourself on things like whether pineapple belonged on pizza, if cereal was a soup, which superpower is the best, which jokes were funny and which were plain bad —you know, the important stuff. Whether or not you found a partner in the future was no longer a top priority on your list, as not only had you given up on the terrible dating pool of Gotham, but you had also finally found contentment within yourself and the prospects of being alone.

That was until last week, when you met the no-show date of yours in person for the first time. Your friend had mentioned him in conversation before, so you weren’t too surprised to find he had joined your scheduled get-together with a few of your other friends that evening. He introduced himself, and the two of you seemed to hit it off quite well. You didn't talk about very much, but you swore you felt something.

The spark, perhaps?

You had always been told about a special spark that you’d feel when you met "the one." However, nobody could seem to tell you what exactly it felt like. All you were told was, "You’ll know it when you feel it."

Unfortunately, you’d never get to find out whether you were right about that spark. You even stayed far longer than you normally would have for a no-show date like this. As much as you had yourself convinced that you were totally fine with being eternally single, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were still a hopeless romantic at heart, always seeking out that special connection, that special spark.

That’s why you stayed as long as you did, suffering through ninety minutes of ridiculously bad jokes —though you seemed to be the only one in the room with that opinion. Looking back, you were glad your date didn’t show. You deserved better than someone who thought the jokes you’d heard all night were the pinnacle of humor.

Cheers from the crowd around you pulled you out of your thoughts and back to the center of the room as the previous comedian could be seen waltzing off the stage. The announcer took his place at the mic, reading off the information for the next comedian in line. A disgruntled huff left your lips. The last thing you wanted was to stick around for another insufferable act filled with the same jokes. Besides, it was getting late, and you’d already waited long enough for a date that was never going to happen.

Getting ready to leave, you took one last sip of your drink and collected your things. You pulled out your wallet, fishing for a tip to leave the waiter, just as the announcer finished reading their script.

"For his whole life, was told that his purpose in life is to bring happiness and joy into this cold, dark world…Uh…Right. Everyone, please help me welcome Arthur Fleck!"

Your ears perked up at those words. That introduction was much more interesting than any of the others you’d heard. Still, you continued to search for the five-dollar bill you knew you had somewhere in your wallet, not paying any mind to the clapping around you or what was happening on stage.

That was, until he spoke.

"Hello, it’s good to be here." His velvety voice was laced with nervousness. He chortled, but it didn’t sound natural at all.

Forgetting about the tip, you glanced up at the man in the spotlight. Your heart unexpectedly fluttered in your chest as you observed the man —Arthur, was it?— closely.

He wore a merlot-colored vest over a white button-up shirt, paired with matching red slacks and brown loafers. His hair was slightly brushed back, little brown curls framing his face that stopped just a couple inches above his shoulders. Dark eyebrows highlighted a pair of eyes so strikingly green that you could distinctly see them from the back of the room where you were seated.

Arthur… He was certainly handsome. What concerned and intrigued you was the veil of pain over his smile and eyes and the underlying strain in his voice. There was something about him that drew you in —made you want to know more. Your wallet laid disregarded on the table as your eyes remained focused on him.

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Arthur swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. "Not now. Remember your practice." He repeated these words over and over in his head, begging the laughter not to take over again. He had performed this act once before a couple of months ago, but his condition had stolen the show from him, which left everyone laughing at him and not his jokes. He was embarrassed, but he couldn’t help but think, "What’s new?". Yet, after that failed performance, he somehow felt more determined to try again. He practiced and practiced any time he had the chance, often in the mirror or in his living room in front of an imagined audience.

He really felt like he had it down pat this time. All he had to do was get ahold of his laughter long enough to get through it.

Clearing his throat, he glanced down at the journal gripped tight by his trembling hands before looking back up at the audience.

"I h-hated school as a kid." One line down, and he only slightly chuckled. He made sure to smile like he rehearsed.

"My mother would say, 'You should enjoy it; one day you’ll have to work for a living.'"

Arthur could feel his throat closing up again. Sweat began to bead on his forehead from the stress and the hot stage lights above. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself before moving on to the punch line.

"N-No, I won't, ma’, I’m gonna be a comedian!" He held his arms out with a smile.

Scanning the silent audience, he began to feel his confidence crumble. As it did, the laughter became harder to suppress. He awaited his own doom…

A giggle could be heard somewhere in the distance. Arthur felt a bolt of excitement run through him, reviving his dwindling composure as he quickly began searching for the owner of the laugh amongst the dark sea of judging eyes around him.

Finally, they landed on you.

Arthur was immediately captivated by your beauty. You were all dressed up, your hair was done up nicely, and your radiant smile was pointed directly at him. You even laughed at his joke! Or were you just laughing at him like everyone else typically did? He wasn’t the best at reading people, but your smile seemed warm and your eyes friendly. And honestly, with your eyes locked on him in that very moment, he didn’t really care much whether he was misreading that or not. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that drew him to you —made him want to keep making you smile like that.

Arthur took his newfound confidence and continued with his act, trying his hardest to illicit more of that wonderful sound you made earlier.

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For the first time all night, you laughed. Not even a pity laugh, like the few you’d heard sprinkled amongst the quiet. Arthur evidently had some sort of condition he struggled with, but despite that, he was genuinely funny. The more he continued with his act, the more you found yourself laughing. You didn’t even care if you were the only person in the room who found his jokes hilarious. They clearly had terrible taste, and dammit, you were actually enjoying yourself!

It seemed like after he and you made eye contact, his laughter subsided a bit, enough for him to get through things a little more smoothly. Even so, you still felt deep concern each time he seemed to choke on the laughter that forced its way past his lips. You had never heard of such a condition, but it was clear to you that his laughter was not voluntary. You found yourself admiring his bravery and persistence, even when he was continuously cut off by his painful laughter, and eventually, the announcer, telling him his time was up.

You felt your blood boil at the announcer for interrupting his act so rudely. The other comedians had been allowed to finish their full acts, even if they went over their allotted time. They just wanted Arthur off the stage.

A pang of worry hit you as Arthur’s laughter finally got the better of him and came out in full force. You felt the urge to leap out of your chair and help him as he buckled over with his back turned against the audience, covering his mouth as if trying to stuff the laughter back inside himself. You didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was, so instead, you clapped. Not once did you clap at the end of the other comedian’s acts that night. But Arthur, he made you truly laugh. If any one of them deserved praise and support, it was him.

You clapped loudly enough to fill the deafening silence in the room, standing up in your chair with a smile. Arthur turned his head to look at you, his lips tugging into a genuine smile that reached his eyes before he was abruptly taken over by another fit of laughter. Your eyes followed him as he quickly scurried off the stage, heading into the backstage area. Your heart tugged against your chest at the sudden absence of him, a sensation that confused you.

It couldn’t possibly be the spark you’d been searching for…right? You barely knew the man.

You didn’t give yourself any more time to think before you tossed a random bill onto the table and rushed towards the backstage area you had seen him vanish into. Your feet moved quickly down the stairs, your eyes scanning around for him. Stopping in an unfamiliar room, you found it to be filled with nothing but framed photos of popular comedians who had performed at Pogo’s and a TV hung in the top left corner by the stairs from which you came. It was quiet and empty, but there was a hallway ahead that you hoped might lead you to the person you were seeking.

This time, you hesitated before moving your feet. Was this weird? Creepy, even? All you wanted was to speak to him face-to-face. Tell him his act was great. But would a normal person come bursting through backstage all for that?

"Hey!" You jumped at the booming voice behind you. "Didn’t you read the sign? Performers only!"

You spun around on your heels, not even looking the person in the eye as you mumbled an apology before quickly racing back up the stairs and heading straight for the exit of the building.

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For days after, you couldn’t stop thinking about how ridiculous an idea that was. You were certain that if you did happen to meet Arthur then, he would’ve thought you were crazy. You didn’t know him at all. He definitely didn’t know you. All you knew of him was what you observed in less than 7 minutes of his act. You made eye contact a few times, he smiled at you, whatever. Nothing special.

So why was it that you couldn’t get him out of your head?

Weeks passed, and the thoughts of Arthur Fleck persisted. You went over the memory of him from that night about a million times. Not just that, you’d been catching yourself imagining what he was doing at any given hour, as well as what kind of person he was. The thoughts kept coming and coming, frequently hindering your focus and only growing louder in the darkest hours of the night. You were beginning to question your own sanity a little. Obsessively thinking about a stranger you barely knew surely wasn’t normal. You knew this, yet you couldn’t seem to separate him from your mind, no matter how hard you tried.

There was just something about him. The way he shined so brightly against the depressing gloom of the city, despite the odds stacked against him —that which you knew you’d only seen the smallest glimpse of. He was a rare gem in Gotham, and you felt lucky to have witnessed him in person. Your only regret was that you never got to officially meet him.

With Gotham being so largely populated, you knew the chances of seeing him again were slim to none. If only you hadn't missed your chance. You’d debated going to Pogo's again in hopes that you’d catch another one of his performances, but you lacked the time, money, and, quite frankly, the willpower to sit through any more of those other dreadful acts. You may have been bordering on crazy when it came to your interest in this complete stranger, but you weren’t THAT desperate.

So, you let him go. Tried to, at least. He still popped into your head frequently throughout your days, but you managed to accept the grief of never getting to know who Arthur Fleck truly was, telling yourself that he was probably not as special as you made him out to be in your head. Arthur Fleck was just a stranger you projected your deepest desires onto, making him out to be the kind of partner you’d always wanted to share your life with but could never seem to find out in the real world. There was no such thing as the ‘spark', the magical connection people always talked about in the movies and that your friends and family raved about. Maybe it was real for them, but not for you. Foolish, were you, to think otherwise…

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Arthur had been distracted lately, more so than usual. He frequently spent a lot of time in his head; contemplating life, crafting jokes, having conversations with himself, daydreaming scenarios that helped him cope with the harshness of his reality. But as of late, most of his mind had been consumed by one particular subject.

You.

He didn’t know you. Didn’t even know your name. But something about you left a lasting imprint on his mind for days, weeks after his last gig at Pogo’s.

Your beauty, your smile, the way your eyes perked up when they met his. Even at the far end of the dark room, you stood out so clearly to him. And the things he felt when he heard your laughter...he couldn’t possibly describe in words. Never had he been filled with such warmth from a stranger —and all you did was laugh at his jokes! Nobody ever laughed at his jokes.

Nobody, but you.

And you didn’t laugh at him once. He paid close attention to see if you would, all while hoping with everything he had that you wouldn’t. Instead, he was met with an expression filled with joy and kindness, and at certain moments, deep compassion for him.

If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have been able to get through his act. Your laughter was what kept him going and inspired him not to give up. That’s why he wanted to be a comedian in the first place. To make people laugh. To give people a sense of happiness that he himself had been cruelly stripped of his entire life. As Arthur had regrettably learned time and time again, most people found that sense of happiness in laughing at him, seeing him hurt, beating him down —but not in his jokes. Even his own mother didn’t think he was funny.

But you did. And that mean the entire world to him.

Since then, there was seldom a moment in which thoughts of you weren’t floating around his head. He pondered over everything he could remember about you. He imagined what you were like, what your name was, what made you smile, if you had a partner. He selfishly pretended you didn’t for the sake of the daydreams he created of you and him together, despite knowing that if you were to meet him, you’d probably want nothing to do with him. Hell, he wasn’t even convinced you were actually real. How could someone as perfect as you exist? Nobody in Gotham had a smile that bright. Nobody in Gotham would ever openly show him such kindness and warmth. It was impossible…right?

Arthur carried on with his life, knowing that you were likely just a part of his imagination, and he once again confused fantasy with reality. He had been watching too many romantic films lately, and it got to his head, that’s all.

But that certainly didn’t stop the persistent thoughts of you and the deep desire that you did really exist. That, for the first time, he had been truly seen by someone real.

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"Shit. Dammit. Come on," you cursed under your breath as you struggled to lock your friend’s car with one hand, all while performing a balancing act with an overflowing box of items in your arms and two bags slung over your shoulders.

You felt lucky to have such great friends —the kind that would let you borrow their car when you suddenly got evicted from your apartment. You weren’t feeling too lucky about that, but at least you had people you could rely on to help you through it.

It didn’t help that it was such short notice, leaving you scrambling to find somewhere else to live. Your friends had offered to let you stay on their couches while you searched, but as it turned out, there was only one place within reasonable distance of your job that you could afford, so your search didn’t last long. It wasn’t a great place, by any means. It looked to be practically falling apart, and it was in a terribly dangerous area of Gotham, but you would take that over being on the streets any day. Besides, it was cheap enough that you would conveniently save a few bucks a month. Not much, but it was better than not being able to afford the rent at all.

After successfully locking the car, you walked carefully towards the entrance of the apartment building. With how exhausted you were from frantically packing everything at the last minute, the last thing you wanted to do was take multiple trips to and from your friend’s car for some basic necessities. That said, you made a mental note to move your friend’s car to a safer location before the end of the day. Apparently, the area was known for a lot of car break-ins and robberies.

You walked through the entrance of the building, not having much time to look for where to go before you abruptly collided with someone in front of you, causing most of the items in your arms to fall onto the dirty checkered floor below your feet.

"God, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t really looking—I mean, I couldn’t really see where I was going, and I...I’m sorry," you said as you rushed to pick up all your belongings off the floor. Wanting to avoid witnessing the stranger judge your frazzled state, you kept your eyes glued to the ground and focused on putting things back together in a way that would allow you to carry it all again.

"It’s alright. I wasn’t looking where I was going either," the stranger responded. They seemed surprisingly understanding, something you were not used to receiving in the merciless city you resided in.

"Sorry. H-Here, let me help," he added, just as you noticed the familiar brown loafers on the stranger’s feet. Suddenly, the rest began falling into place.

Wait a minute…That voice. You knew that voice.

You shot your head up just as the stranger crouched down to help you pick up your things. Your eyes met in that moment, leaving you both frozen in place for an unknown amount of time as you each took in the familiar face of the person before you.

It was Arthur. The man you had been thinking about for an embarrassing amount of time. It had been almost a month since you’d seen his act at Pogo's, and thoughts of him still remained active in your mind all this time later, despite your many attempts to lock them away and forget about him.

The chances of you two seeing each other again were so very slim, and yet, there you were, crouched at eye level on the floor, staring at one another in shock. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you realized you had been blatantly staring at him for what would definitely be considered too long and scrambled to find something to say.

"You’re Arthur Fleck from—"

"You were the one who—"

You and Arthur laughed sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks as you looked into each other's eyes.

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There was that laugh he’d been craving to hear all month. It filled his ears and soothed his soul. Even better, your speaking voice was the most heavenly sound he’d ever heard. The way you said his name was enough to have him on the verge of melting into a complete puddle on the floor, and it took all of his conscious energy not to do just that. He was surprised you even remembered him at all. ‘Memorable’ was not a word Arthur would even think to associate himself with. Arthur was invisible to much of the world around him. But strangely, miraculously, not to you.

Not only that…you seemed to be real. The fact that he was so shocked to find out you were the person he ran into pointed more to the possibility of you not just being a figment of his imagination. Never in a million years had he expected to find you in this dump, of all places.

"Y-Yes, that’s me. I’m Arthur." He nodded timidly. "Why are you here?"

"What a stupid question. You didn’t even ask for their name!" he thought. He tried to think of the right things to say in this kind of situation. He had imagined many scenarios of meeting you, but never like this. It became harder to breathe as he realized he had already said the wrong thing. Now you probably thought he was rude and a loser. Why did he always have to mess everything up?

Surprisingly, though, you laughed.

"I swear, I’m not stalking you!" You joked, putting your hands up in playful defense. "I’m actually moving in today." Arthur felt relief fill his being, but the threat of a laughing fit still loomed over his head. You were just so pretty, and perfect, and so much better than he had imagined. He would never forgive himself if he messed this up.

"I’m Y/N, by the way. It’s nice to officially meet you…I’m assuming you live here?" You smiled at him, radiating the same warmth he had received from you at Pogo’s all those nights ago. If he could bask in it forever, he would.

Y/N… Your name definitely suited you better than any of the ones he came up with in his mind. He avoided the temptation to repeat it aloud in front of you. He wanted to know what it felt like rolling off his tongue.

"Yeah, eighth floor," he said. "What floor are you on?" 

Your eyes grew wide, and you blinked a few times in what appeared to be shock.

"E-Eighth floor…"

Now it was Arthur’s turn to feel shocked. What a strange twist of events that seemingly led you both here. Arthur thought he’d given up on fate, seeing as his life had only been filled with one traumatic event after another, no matter how hard he tried to change things for the better. Either fate had a nasty grudge against him or everything was all random chance, and he just so happened to always be in the wrong place at the wrong time. For Arthur, it was easier to believe the latter. At least that way, he still had some sense of control over his life. He’d take his chances in a battle against bad luck over some divine force that he surely stood no chance against.

As he gazed upon you now, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted once more. Maybe he was wrong about fate. Sure, it was his performance at Pogo’s that caught your attention, but Arthur certainly wasn’t the one that led you to being at the club that night, nor the reason that you were moving here —on the same floor of the apartment building he lived in, no less. Maybe it was luck, maybe it was a crazy coincidence, or maybe it was something more…

A glimmer of hope filled his heart as he smiled at you. Maybe you were real, and maybe fate was too. If all the terrible things he went through were the exact things required for him to end up here in this very moment with you, then it was all worth it to him.

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Arthur was surprisingly not much different than what you imagined him to be like. He was very sweet, and you found his timidity around you charming. Your heart fluttered every time he smiled at you. The smiles he presented you now were not veiled with pain like the ones you had seen from him on stage. They were soft and sincere, and they accentuated the wrinkles around his pretty green eyes.

You accepted his offer to help you carry your things up to your apartment. He claimed he was headed that way anyway, though you swore he had been exiting the building when you ran into him. The possibility of him dropping his plans to help you instead released a whole swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

Arthur pressed the elevator button for the eighth floor, shifting the weight of the box in his arms as he did so. He had insisted on carrying both the heavy box and one of your bags for you, leaving you to carry a few smaller items and the other bag slung around your shoulder.

"I, um…I never got to tell you how much I loved your act! I wanted to speak to you afterwards, but…I guess I missed you," you said.

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that…" He shot you an apologetic look.

"Don’t worry about it." You smiled. "I’m just glad I get to tell you now. You’re really funny, Arthur. Funnier than all those other comedians, if you ask me."

Arthur’s cheeks turned a rosy pink as he looked down at the box in his arms, a big smile taking over his face. "Thank you. That means a lot."

The elevator door screeched open, and the two of you walked down the hallway of your shared floor, your conversation continuing on the way to your door. You both found yourselves walking slower to avoid the inevitable end of the moment you were so immersed in.

Something about the way Arthur spoke to you made you feel special. His tone was gentle, and his eyes held a deep curiosity for every word that you spoke in return. The more the two of you talked, the more comfortable you began to feel around him, and you could sense Arthur felt the same way; his previous nerves now diminished as he casually walked alongside you.

Eventually, you arrived at your destination, but that did nothing to cease your talking. Arthur amusingly pointed out the fact that your apartment was directly across from his and joked about bringing a shitty casserole to your place to welcome you to the neighborhood. You noticed Arthur’s face brighten even more as you laughed at this.

He even offered to help you gather the rest of your things and bring them into your apartment, which you happily agreed to —not only for the help but for the extra time you’d get to spend with him. You were ever so curious to know more about the mysterious Arthur Fleck, who had nearly consumed your every thought for so many days. He intrigued you more than anyone else you’d ever met, the bright light of his soul drawing you nearer like a moth to a flame.

It was at that moment that you finally understood. The spark you’d been seeking your whole life was neither a thing nor a feeling. It was a person.

Finally, you had found your spark.

And his name was Arthur Fleck.

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[darkshadow90]

Arthur Fleck (Arkham Joker) x reader A Visit in Arkham

Summary: You visit Arthur in Arkham after he was taken to Arkham for killing Murray Franklin and the Wall Street employees. It’s been several months since you last saw him. He seems to have become a completely different person, and unfortunately for the worse.

A/N: Hey guys. I’m finally getting around to posting my one shot! Finally! I’m so sorry about the wait. With work being crazy and having a lot of trouble coming up with ideas, I was really having a hard time writing this. This might not be very different from my other one shots featuring this version of Arthur as it’s yet another one shot where reader visits him sometime after he’s completed his transition to Joker. However, it’s a little different this time. It’s the first time reader sees him in his Joker makeup. It’s gonna have all the tension and darkness you’ve all loved. At least I hope it does. Arkham Joker is back, my darlings! I hope you enjoy ❤️ Warnings: Arthur is dark, not very nice. He makes the reader very uncomfortable. Arthur is excited by the readers scent from her body wash, (not in a sexual way, but I suppose you could read that way if you want to) minor violence towards reader.

It had been several months since Murray Franklin was killed, almost a year. Arthur was locked away in Arkham. You remembered that awful night. Arthur’s demeanor was so different. It scared you. You had felt like Arthur would never hurt or kill anyone. Arthur seemed so excited to be on his favorite show. To meet his hero, Murray Franklin. He told you all about it. You had to work that day, but you promised him you would watch it when you got home that night. And watch it, you did. You never thought you would see him confess to murdering the Wall Street guys and kill Murray. You were terrified. Seeing this side of him. The way he was laughing and dancing after killing Murray. All you could do was sink back into your couch in shock. Someone later police apprehended him and he was taken to Arkham.

You were relieved that he was in a place where he couldn’t hurt anyone else. It had been months since you last saw him. Time got away from you. You didn’t want to see him, but at the same time, you felt bad that you disappeared from his life. You decided you would go check on him to see how he was doing. The weekend was coming up so you decided you would visit him the next day. You were apprehensive about it. You tossed and turned throughout the night.

The days were getting shorter and the nights longer. When you woke up, the temperature dropped considerably. You knew not to expect anything less, but the cold weather and snow still sucked. You made sure to bundle up before heading out. You took the train to Arkham. The city was unusually quiet. You made your way to Arkham, it seemed to take awhile to get there. Maybe it was just your anxiety kicking in. You made your way inside and told the receptionist you came to see Arthur. She called security to have an orderly to escort you to the maximum security floor.

The maximum security floor was cleaner than the first floor it was very white…and bright. It almost hurt your eyes. The orderly led you to the room where Arthur was. He told you to press the panic button under the table if things got out of hand. You thanked him and went inside. You saw Arthur sitting in a chair smoking a cigarette. He was wearing white scrubs and he had stubble on his face. He probably hadn’t saved in a few days. He was staring off into space. “Hi, Arthur.” He immediately looked up at you when he heard you call his name.

“Y/N? Is it really you? I knew you’d come back to me, sweetheart.” Something about the way he said that didn’t seem quite right. You cleared your dry throat. “How are you feeling, Arthur?” “I’m feeling just fine. Better than ever now that you’re here. It’s been so long since I saw you. Almost a year. Time sure does fly, doesn’t it. I was beginning to think you abandoned me.” You began to feel unsettled. There was something in the air that felt dangerous.

“Arthur, listen I—‘’ He held up his hand. “You don’t need to explain, sweetheart. I get it.” “Y…you do?” “Sure. Life got busy. Time got away from you, and you completely forgot about me. But that’s okay. Things happen.”

Something was very wrong. “No, Arthur. That’s not—“ “Ah, ah, sweetheart. I said you didn’t need to explain anything. All that matters is you’re here now. So you saw me on the Murray Franklin show, right? What did you think? Wasn’t I great? I told my best Joke yet. It blew Murray’s mind.” He began to laugh, but unlike his laughing fits he was in full control. He was laughing because he found it funny. “Arthur—“ “You know, all I could think about was you all this time, wondering where you were. All this time, no visits, no phone calls.” Your heart began to race. Arthur suddenly stood up from his chair and leaned forward.

You felt him sniff your neck, practically nuzzling it. You felt like a lamb cornered by a wolf. You were terrified he would bite your jugular. You were too afraid to pull away. You heard your heartbeat in your ears. “So sweet. God, you always smell so good.” You were doing everything you could to avoid shaking like a leaf. You felt like you were going to vomit then and there. “I have missed this, Y/N.” For a brief moment, you thought there was a trace of the man you once knew…until he suddenly licked the side of your neck, making you cry out from fear and jolt away.

Arthur giggled at your reaction. “Why are you so jumpy, sweetheart? It’s me. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” It sounded like he was mocking you. “I know! How about I put on my makeup? Lucky for you, I have some. I couldn’t let them take away everything, now could I? Although I’ve worn my makeup in here before, just not in therapy sessions. I’ve done this so many times, I don’t even need a mirror watch.” He took out the brush and face paints from his pocket and you watched in awe as he applied it perfectly. “Ta-da!” And there it was, the awful face of the clown you saw that night on the Murray Franklin Show. Joker. It looked even more unsettling without his green hair.

Truth be told you were scared of this side of him, more now than ever before. “How do I look?” That feeling of dread was getting stronger. “Well, I…I don’t know what to say Arthur.” “I didn’t ruin my makeup, did I?” You swallowed thickly. “No, of course not. You’re too good at it.” “Oh, Y/N. You’ve always been so nice to me. And so…so beautiful.” He leaned in close again. He cupped the sides of your face almost tenderly. He sniffed your hair as if trying to imprint your scent into his memory. He trailed his hands down your hair smoothing it out.

You felt like you were prey being trapped by a predator again. “I often wondered how you would react when we saw each other again. And you being you, well just like always you’re full of surprises. You’re too good.” You felt his hot breath in your ear and it made you nauseated again. “Arthur, I don’t think you should—“ “You abandoned me, but I love you too much to think too much about it. But never mind that. I’ve been thinking about getting out of here. Now that you’re here, this place isn’t ideal.” You felt your blood run cold. “Why are you so quiet, my love?”

Your internal alarms were now blaring. “You know I don’t like seeing you upset. I know! How about a joke?” You couldn’t speak. “Knock, knock.” He gestured for you to answer. “Who’s there?” “Joker.” Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. “Arthur,” you croaked. You waited for something to happen, but nothing did. Arthur was laughing. “You scared me.” “Oh, Y/N. You’re just too cute for words.” He finally calmed down and took a breath. He leaned in again and cupped your face in both hands like before. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but…I’m gonna need you to sleep for a little while.” Before you could fully process what he said, his hands were around your neck. “S-stop…” Shh, shh, shh. It’s almost over, sweetheart.”Eventually you lost consciousness. Arthur laid you on the table, kissed your forehead and left.

[into-crazy]

lace and cigarettes

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Female Reader drabble

Summary: Joker watches you dance in your bedroom, it eventually leads to something steamy.

Warnings- mature language, NSFW, SMUT, sexual themes, fingering, hand job, ages 18+

This is just a little something spicy that I wanted to get off my mind. I was in a bit of a rush when I wrote this so I hope it's not too bad.

Joker's laying comfortably on your shared bed in nothing but his white underwear and socks. Calmly smoking a cigarette while he watches you dance in a little lacy number.

A slow, sensual song is playing on the compact radio above the dresser. You are moving your hips to the rhythm of the tune. Grazing your hand all over your practically naked body, as the one-piece you're wearing leaves nothing to the imagination. He can see everything, out on display. You're merely decorated with the delicate fabric. Like a pretty present with his name written all over.

This was your idea and you had planned it out so well. While he was gone, you had set the station on the radio to the channel that plays all the good slow, seductive songs. Lit a few candles and placed them all around the bedroom. Then, you put on the sexy garment and patiently anticipated his arrival. Sure enough, Joker was very pleased with your lovely surprise when he had walked in.

Taking a drag of his cigarette, he slowly blows out the smoke. Gazing heavily at you from behind the flowy clouds, dancing so beautifully for him. His legs are spread and his other hand is resting by his side. But soon, he moves it to stroke around his lower tummy and eventually lower to palm his growing erection.

"Fuck kitten," he groans. "I'm so hard for you right now."

Your eyes flicker down to his crotch, and a smile forms on your face at the sight. Sure enough, his erection is straining hard against the fabric of his briefs. It sends tingles down your spine and a rush of heat to your core. This is exactly what you had wanted. For him to feel all the things he does to you when he's the one dancing and you are watching. Flip the roles around and watch him get turned on by you just as much as you always do by him.

Using one of your hands, you teasingly trail it down your body, all the way down to your barely covered pussy. Which is getting wet with your arousal. You make sure he's looking before tracing your fingers along your slit. "Mmhm, and I'm drenched for you. You always make me so wet."

"Oh yeah?" He nods. His hand slips into his underwear to stroke his length. "Why don't you climb on to this bed and let me take care of that for you? We'll take care of each other."

His voice is getting deeper and his eyes are becoming darker. He's completely under your trance. Mesmerized with the way your gorgeous body is moving, those alluring hips of yours rolling so invitingly. Painfully aroused by how you're teasing him by touching yourself in front of him. His dick is throbbing in his hand, precum has leaked out and left a small damp patch in his underwear. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take.

You bat your eyelashes at him innocently. "You wanna take care of me baby? Hm, you wanna touch me?" With your other hand, you grab and squeeze your breast. Pinching at your hardened bud that's poking up from under the lace.

"Yes," he hisses, licking his red painted lips. How much he wants to get his mouth on that sweet nipple of yours.

"You want me to touch you? Replace your hand with mine and stroke your hard dick?"

He screws his eyes shut and releases a shuddered moan. "Fuck.. yes."

You bite on your lower lip while looking at him seductively. "Oh Joker, I'd really like that. A lot."

"Well then get over here. Or I'll have to come over there, babydoll." Joker warns lowly. Taking one last drag of his cig before putting it out in the tray next to him.

He's much more confident than he's ever been before he ultimately became the Joker. Not afraid to voice what he wants, and certainly not afraid to express himself. He does so without any fears or questioning. Not anymore. Because he doesn't ever want to go back to those worries after experiencing what this is like. And you're definitely happy for him, supporting him in every step of the way. Sharing everything that comes along with it. All the fire, rage, and desires. You love that you've got to be there for his transition into this bolder version of himself. And you love who he's become now. As you've always loved him.

You smirk and climb on to the bed with him, sitting on his lap. He eagerly takes you into his arms, kissing you passionately. You reach into his briefs and pull out his aching cock. He moans against your mouth at the feel of your warm hand on him. Your thumb brushes over his red, leaking tip and his hips jerk up for more. You spit into your hand and begin to stroke his length. Joker curses under his breath, tossing his head back to release a symphony of gasps and moans.

After a few more strokes on his dick, he lifts his head back to look at you. Heavy eyes stare deep into your own. He then brings his attention to your pussy. With his hand, he moves the article to the side and pushes a finger inside of you. It slides in easily with how soaked you are, he adds another one. You moan aloud while he starts pumping them in and out of you.

As your chest rises and falls in front of him, his glance lands on your breasts. Using his teeth, he peels the fabric over one of your breasts to the side and sucks on the peaked bud. Smudging his face paint all over your skin in the process. He loves marking up your beautiful body any way he can.

You stroke him faster and he picks up the pace of his fingers. You're both focusing on making each other feel good. The combined sounds of your pleasure drowning out the music from the radio.

Joker switches up by curling his fingers against that spot which brings you closer to the edge. His thumb goes to your clit to rub tight firm circles. He brings his face up to your ear, "you close baby?"

"Y-Yes.. god I'm so close. Please, I wanna cum." You mewl. It's right there, so fucking close. You push yourself against his fingers, wanting it bad.

"Go ahead then. Cum all over my fingers, kitten." He whispers, lowering his mouth to your neck to kiss and suck hickeys into your sensitive skin.

With a couple more of his finger strokes, you finally reach your orgasm. Releasing a strangled moan of his name as you gush all over his hand. In your heightened state, you lightly squeeze the head of his cock, causing him to hiss in pleasure. He nearly blows his load right there. You continue jerking him, trying to get him to his own release. Which you can tell by the throbbing of his dick that he desperately needs it. As do you.

"Please.." you plead, "please cum for me."

He slips his fingers out of your pussy and grabs at your hips with both of his hands. Squeezing them while he cums with a low, long groan. A small spurt of his cum lands on your belly while the rest of it dribbles down your hand and his dick.

You slow down your movements to catch your breath. Joker immediately does the same. You sit there in each other's embrace for a few seconds. Basking in the warmth of your afterglows. Then, his eyes lock on to yours and you exchange breathy laughs before moving in for another kiss. Slow at first, but not too long before you're making out with fervor. Reigniting the fire in your bodies.

This is going to be a long, passion filled night for the both of you.

[loony-lupus]

Choose your fighter!

[fleckficgirl]

Arthur Fleck’s kinetic, chaotic energy 🩵🩷

[ledgerserious8]

Little Neighbor | Arthur Fleck & Reader

Warning : Don't copy my writing Don't steal my writing. All rights are reserved for my writing

Genre : Flutter First Met

Summary : The first met with your neighbor Arthur.

Word count : 1.4k

You let out a little sigh from your mouth as You was in the elevator as seem ready to go to the building you lived in

Arthur was your neighbor from two weeks but you never talked to him or met him, You was so busy with your things since you started living in Gotham

The both of you was standing in the electricity but his eyes on you

"You seem new here?" - He begged as he was eyeing you carefully

"Excuse me?" - You asked him calmly as looked at him after waking up from your thoughts

"I mean, yeah, you do seem new here." - He explained as stated clearly

"You are my new neighbor, right?" - He added as he was still looking at you with his pale face

"Yeah I'm here from two weeks" - You replied shortly as seem a little bit shy

"You're a very quiet person. I like that in a person." - He said as he was smiling a little but his white face made it a little bit off puting

And your nod to his words made him feel curious about you because he liked people calm and peaceful like you

"My name is Arthur Fleck it's a pleasure to meet you." - He said to you as held out a pale hand for you to shake

"It's pleasure to you but I don't touch" - You replied politely as waved to him and smiled

"That's fine, anyway are you busy right now?" - He asked you clearly and was just nodding with his head

"No I'm not busy now, Need something?" - You asked him calmly and your word made him smiling

"Would you mind doing a little of chit chat with your new neighbor?" - He replied as sighed as he was trying to talk to you more

"Yeah it would be good since the electricity still working" - You explained calmly and smiled back

"That's good then. I mean, this is an awkward time to become neighbors." - He stated as the lights were still on in this part of town - "So how's your life been? Are you moving here with anyone?" He asked you curiously and was still nodding.

"No I'm alone but my aunt will visit me soon" - You replied calmly and he can noticed honestly in your voice

"I'm also alone. It's just me and my mom." - He whispered softly as he sighed as he was finally finding common ground with you.

You can feel some sadness in the tone of his voice but you decided to not ask him

"So what's your name young lady?" - He asked you but his face was still pale.

"I'm Y/N" - You replied politely as smiling friendly

"That's a beautiful name. It suit you." - He admitted as he was showing a little bit of charm.

He was taking his chance right now to maybe befriend you or hopefully to romance, there's something about you was dropping him to you

And you can feel it too about him he seem so gentle and a man with golden heart but locked and hiding in darkness like a treasure

"I'm going to ask you an awkward question. Would you like to be my friend?" - He asked you as his shiny face was showing a little bit of hope

The both of you was enjoying the silent moment together but still, he was hoping for an answer from you.

"Sound Great" - You replied calmly to him and smiled friendly and you seem comfortable with him

"That's good to hear." - He replied as his face became happy and seem more shiny to you

The light flickered slightly as the both of you was smiling at each other, the silence was a little bit of a weird but still enjoyable moment for both of you as he can studying you and see everything about you

"Would it be wrong if I ask you another awkward question?" - He asked you politely with his white, pale face.

"No it's okay go ahead" - You replied politely, trying to convince him to be completely comfortable

"If you don't mind me asking do you have a boyfriend?" - He asked you as his face turned into a little bit of a disappointment.

He was hoping but he is not that lucky - "You are quite young right? I can tell you're not married or anything right?" - He added as he was trying to see if he have a chance with you.

"Honestly I'm single you know It's hard to live in city like Gotham and it's so hard to find a good man here" - You explained calmly as remembering the rumors about the criminals of Gotham and how everyone can be under control

"Yeah, I mean, Gotham's not a nice place and I completely understand." - Arthur replied as he was still nodding to your words showing how wisdom you are

Then he smiled at you. - "Will it be weird if I ask you one last question?" - He asked you as his curiously face was still waiting for your response

You nodded silently to him allowing him to asking you, you still seem so shy to him and he liked that soft side of you

"Do you mind if we chat somewhere more private?" - Arthur asked you nervously but he was trying to be friendly but you can noticed his nervously

"I mean my house or something. Maybe my mother is home, we could have some snacks." - Arthur added as chuckled as he was rubbing the back of his head by his hand

"It would be great thing to do but it's better to be next time" - You explained calmly and trying to be polite with him

"It's morning and you know everyone had work to get money and live" - You added softly

"Oh, that's ok. I understand. It's kind of a busy day for everyone." - Arthur replied politely as he was nodding with his head to you

Then he sighed with a little bit of disappointment as noticed the elevator doors opened to make the both of you realize it's time to back in reality

"Well, I guess we should go our own ways now. See you around neighbor." - Arthur explained as he seemed like he has something else to say but he just smiled and waved at you.

"See you next time little Neighbor" - You replied as waved to him back and started walking outside the elevator

You called him a little neighbor because the way his eyes was looking at you like a little child inside his soul and his expression showing innocence and gentle heart

That golden heart you're curious to find..

Arthur was quite disappointed with that reply, but still, he was happy since he made a little friendship with someone like you in his place

He smiled at you one last time before the both of you went your ways and disappeared from his eyes by walking away

Arthur went back into his own apartment as he was feeling disappointed now.

Not just because you didn't agree with him and refused his request. It's because he is now thinking about how lonely this world is and how he has no luck in love or a companion for himself

He just walked slowly and sit on his bed and looked at the ceiling silently for a few seconds

"Why does life have to treat me like this. No one even notice me." - Arthur mumbled to himself as he sighed softly

But then he remembered your words to him and it's made him started smiling with himself It made him actually feel like there was someone like you in this world who cared for him and was his new friend

Even if it wasn't in the romantic way. Arthur actually liked being cared for as He was now laying on his bed again and smiling softly and remembering you

He would love to be your friend..your boyfriend..your comedian...your arthur and especially..your

Little Neighbor

[sleepyyywriter]

Time, Time, Time, See What's Become of Me

A/N: You know how I said “whatever you do, don’t think of an Arthur that gets to gray?” 😬 I thought about it. …and I feel some type of way about it. Sorry. Also, in my head, all of the ideas I get are kinda a follow up of that first fix it fic I wrote? Or they take place in the same universe since he’s… around and all in this one. I don’t think it necessarily means you have to read it? At the time of me writing this A/N you don’t have to at least. Still, here is the link in case you want to read.

I kinda got lost towards the end, sorry 😅  

Also! Thank you for all of the comments and reblogs on the last piece. They mean the world to me! As I stated, this is a side-blog so I can’t really reply but I saw every comment and every like and reblog. Thanks! 💜

Word Count: 3k

Genre: Fix-it, Smut

Y/N had noticed it first, how could she not? Even these many years later, she still feared that everything had been a dream and Arthur had not been set free. That she had been unable to help and the beautiful, happy life they had shared so far was all in her head. So every day, Y/N hugged him tight, kissed him, loved him and burned every inch of him into her memory in case she one day woke up and he was nowhere to be found.

Thankfully, he was as real as the way her heart sung for him. He was always there with a smile and kisses and a touch as fervent and loving as hers. And now, she had been lucky enough to witness the way his laugh lines set permanent residence on the sides of his mouth and around his eyes, creating little paths for her to trace with her lips and fingertips. God, the sight of them never failed to make her fall a little more in love with him. An even newer development were the streaks of gray peppering his hair and Y/N could’ve never predicted the feeling the sight of them would stir within her. 

Her fingers were constantly in his hair, twisting, twirling, caressing, and pulling if the occasion called for it. She did not understand how she could love him so much and how she could store all that love in her heart. She’d sooner invest in a new heart than ever stop loving Arthur, of that she was sure.

She did not think Arthur was as enamored with his changing hair if the frowns and tightened lips at his reflection were anything to go by.

He was currently standing in front of the bathroom mirror after his shower, a hairbrush in his hand as he combed this way and that, trying to cover up the sides of his hair where the grays were most visible. 

Y/N took a moment to let her eyes drink in the sight in front of her; how the towel (which she threw in the dryer for a few minutes before Arthur’s shower was over so it would be warm) hung dangerously low on his hips, how stray drops of water caressed their way down his back, and how his arms flexed every time he fussed with his hair.

A huff from Arthur broke her from her reverie and she made her way to him, her arms automatically wrapping around him from behind and her lips tracing a path on his spine. A smile formed on her face as he leaned back into her, his body soft and relaxed under her touch.

Y/N took a hold of the brush in his hand and set it down on the counter before turning him to face her with a gentle hold on his hips. “Talk to me?”

Arthur sighed as he stared past her shoulder and a dusting of rosy pink spread on the apples of his cheeks. Y/N cocked her head to the side, surprised by his reaction. She took his hands into hers and rubbed soothing circles on the back of them as she waited for him to speak. Arthur was good at expressing emotions and thoughts, so long as he didn’t have to speak. He preferred writing his thoughts down and sharing them with her that way or speaking through his actions. He could speak, of course, but she had learned to give him time to organize his thoughts. He would speak when he was ready, and she would be willing to listen whenever that was.

“I’m old.” He paused then and she knew she would have to help by prompting and guiding the conversation if she wanted it to happen. Which it clearly did if the scene she walked into was anything to go by.

“You’re older, yes. We both are. Just yesterday I got up from the couch and my knees made a crackling noise I had never heard before,” she confessed, hoping humor would alleviate his discomfort. It did.

Arthur snorted and rolled his eyes at her, his lips placing soft pecks to her eyelids seconds later. “You look fine though. You look great!” he amended, as if afraid to offend her. “But me… You can tell I’m getting older.”

At this, his fingers combed through his fluffy locks, the gray in his curls more prominent now that his hair had begun to air dry.

“Arthur, you don’t like your graying hair?” Y/N questioned, surprise and disbelief evident in her voice as she stared into his eyes, watching as the surprise in her voice reflected in them.

“You do?”

Y/N gasped and immediately began apologizing. Her hands cupped his cheeks, and she couldn’t help but alternate between mumbled apologies and kisses to his soft and weathered face. “Baby, I thought you knew. I am the worst; I am so sorry!”

Arthur stopped her then with his hands on her face, shaking his head vehemently before pressing his lips to hers. As was the norm, Y/N turned into putty under his ministrations and had she not understood how important it was that she reassure Arthur, she might have allowed herself to get carried away.

Instead, she pulled away with one last brush of her lips to his before taking his hand and turning him back around to face the mirror. “Wanna know what I see?”

Arthur nodded, his eyes on her through the mirror and she caught the exact moment his lips quirked up into a small smile when she grabbed a stray curl and placed a kiss to it.

“I see an intelligent, sweet, handsome, beautiful, courageous, and strong man living his best life despite all the obstacles he has faced. I see a man who got the opportunity to grow older and experience life; the good, the bad, and the worst, and still managed to smile and bring smiles to those around him. I see a man grateful for this second shot at life that was finally afforded to him, and I see him making the best of it every day. I see the love of my life growing old with me and lighting up my life, day after day. I see him making me a better person just by being by my side.”

She smiled when he turned in her arms and hid his face in the crook of her neck. Still, she continued, “We can go to the drugstore and buy some hair-dye for those bad boys if that is what you choose. But you must know I don’t dislike them, and I don’t see you as anything less because of them. As a matter of fact, I like them a little too much and I’m appalled you haven’t noticed.”

He perked up at this and pulled back to look at her, his brows quirking up in question while his arms tightened around her.

Y/N laughed, loud and bright as she brushed his hair back from his eyes and leaned into his ear, her lips brushing against the curve of it, “darling, you and your beautiful grays are sexy and you’re driving me fucking insane.”

She pulled away from him with a wink and sashayed away from the bathroom and into the bedroom, knowing she wouldn’t make it far.

Y/N heard the click of the bathroom light and seconds later, Arthur’s hands were on the swell of her hips, turning her to face him as he walked her back on to the bed. His lips found hers, soft and hot and needy. In turn, her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in the way that had him pressing against her with a grunt.

Y/N laughed against him, moaning when he nipped her bottom lip in retaliation. Arthur tugged at the sash on her robe, pushing it down her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground, his lips moving to trace her jawline. His fingers hooked on the sides of her panties, his nails ghosting over her skin and Y/N helped by kicking them off.

She pawed at the towel around him, allowing herself a satisfied hum as it fell before Arthur stopped moving and lightly pushed her on to the bed, joining her seconds alter. His arms were on either side of her face as he looked down on her, his curls a halo around his head and a smile on his face as he looked into her eyes.

As he nestled in the space between her legs, she could feel him; hot and firm against her thigh and she shuddered in response. Arthur smirked, one of his hands brushing up from her hip up to the side of her breast and Y/N could do nothing more than press up into him, her thighs tightening against him in search of friction.

In the years she had been gifted with Arthur, she had had the pleasure of watching him grow in every aspect of his life. She’d watched him become happier, his laughs and smile constant and bright. She had seen him become more relaxed, no longer looking over his shoulder waiting on the other shoe to drop and for his life to fall apart before his very eyes. She watched him become more confident, aware of his charm and allure and she felt victimized in the most delicious way.

Arthur knew of the effect he had on others, yet he paid it no mind. When it came to the effect he had on her, though? He would tease her in the most discreet and innocent ways that a part of her wondered if she was making it up in her head. But then he would raise a brow at her, a smirk on his lips and she had no choice but to take it out on him when they got home. She was never quite sure when the game began nor if either of them ever won but she knew both of them enjoyed it thoroughly.

His fingers caressed down her stomach until they nestled inside of her, warm and calloused and perfect. “Is this how much you like it?” he murmured, a smile on his lips as he inched his way further inside, meeting no resistance with how worked up she was.

If Y/N possessed control of anything, she might’ve rolled her eyes or even responded with a witty remark. As it was, the hot tendrils of desire licked at her body and she could do little else than whimper, her hips rolling as she tried to get him deeper within her.

Arthur clicked his tongue in mock sympathy, cooing as his thumb joined the mix and gently circled her clit. He swirled and he prodded, pride in his eyes as she writhed and whined. Through the haze, Y/N gazed up at him, pleading and begging for him to give her what he knew she needed.

He smiled and nodded, placing a kiss on her forehead as he gently withdrew his fingers. Y/N pushed herself up, creating enough space for Arthur to kneel on the bed and press his upper body into hers. His teeth, uneven and endearingly his, grazed her collarbone, marking her and then soothing with his tongue.

Her thighs found their way around his hips on muscle memory alone. Y/N’s right hand wrapped around his shoulder and her remaining hand entwined with his. When they were as connected as they could possibly get, Arthur thrust into her in one fluid motion, their twin moans reverberating in the room.

Y/N could’ve sobbed at the feeling. Even these many years later, having Arthur become one with her was always a magical experience. He was rigid and warm and real and Y/N felt complete.

Then he moved. As his hips pulled back and he unsheathed himself, Y/N cried out for him, her fingers digging into his skin as he pressed his hips into her again. Arthur brushed his lips against her cheek, his breath tickling her neck as his hips snapped into her. Again, and again. Hard, relentless, and unhinged. His soft moans and grunts sounded in her ear; her teeth grazed his shoulder.

There was no need for words as he pushed his chest off from hers nor as he pinned her wrists on either side of her head. Words were still not needed as he stretched her walls repeatedly when his hips snapped into hers, the sound of skin on skin, her moans and his throaty grunts mixing in the darkened room.

Still, even though no words were needed as sweat dripped down the side of his face or as their eyes met and glimmered under the moonlight, Y/N still spoke. “I love you, Arthur. I loved you then, I love you now and I’ll love you forever.”

He stilled then, his eyes like two lonesome stars in the midnight sky, and he smiled at her. For her part, Y/N took advantage of his distraction and flipped him over. She perched over him and teased herself by grinding her body on his firm abdomen. He hummed a laugh, then stilled just as fast when she took him inside once more.

It was now her turn to gaze down on him, humming contently when his hands settled on her hips again, mirth and adoration in his darkened eyes as he guided her every move.

Y/N’s fingers found their way to her core, her touch lazy and barely there as she teased the sensitive bundle of nerves within her. Her eyes squeezed shut as she teetered closer to the edge.

Beneath her, Arthur cursed, and he planted his feet on the bed. He met Y/N’s every thrust and he made it his goal to make her come undone.

Y/N’s hands splayed on his chest, her focus now on grinding into him. Arthur traced the curve of her lower back, his touch like hot coals as her body undulated over his. Her every breath was short and labored now and that familiar tightening in her stomach was making itself known.

Arthur cupped her breasts, his thumbs caressing the pebbled skin there as his eyes drank her in. He thought she looked the most beautiful like this; with parted lips, flushed cheeks and eyes struggling to stay on his.

After a particular set of rapid thrusts into her, Y/N tightened around him, coming undone with a shout of his name and her nails dragging down his chest.

Arthur followed two lazy thrusts later, his fingers tangling in her hair, and he pressed their lips together, her name on his lips.

With no strength left in her, Y/N face-planted into his chest. She whispered confessions of love against his skin, which Arthur thought sounded adorable with how muffled and slurred they were. With a gentle hold on the nape of her neck, he moved her so her cheek was resting on his chest. Arthur moved stray pieces of her hair from her face, and she hummed contently as the ceiling fan above them cooled off her sweaty skin.

Soon enough she was shivering, and she would have dozed off to sleep had Arthur not gently coaxed her into cleaning up, reassuring her she would regret it in the morning if she didn’t. Oh, how she loved him.

-------------------------------------------

Y/N had opened a can of worms she was not ready to deal with and now she was reaping what she had sowed. Granted, this was a wonderful problem to have. In the months since that conversation, Arthur had fully embraced this new facet of life. His hair was predominantly gray now and he had allowed for his matching facial hair to grow. The new look was detrimental to her mental health.

She was currently perched on the couch. Having heard the front door, her body angled towards the door and her arms rested on the back of the couch, supporting her chin. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, sunglasses over his eyes, pep in his step and a smug grin as he combed his fingers through his hair.

Arthur took his glasses off and bent down to brush his lips against, a soft greeting on his lips. She was almost convinced she was imagining his teasing until his teeth sunk down on her flesh, his tongue soothing right after.

As if heeding a silent call, she straightened up so she was kneeling on the couch and fully facing him. Her arms locked around his neck and his hands slid under her shirt, pressing her close with slight pressure on her lower back.

As was the norm, her fingers tangled on the curls resting on the nape of his neck and he huffed a laugh against her lips, not breaking contact yet. Their lips danced with each other, soft and sensual and full of love and her heart flooded with emotion. This was living. With Arthur in her arms, his lips against her, showing her visions of the love, passion, and desire he felt for her, the same she felt for him.

Arthur pulled away first, his lips peppering a path from her cheek up to that spot under her ear that could make her sing. He could make her do anything and she would not ever question it, if she were honest with herself.

“Arthur, you’re killing me. I love you, but fuck! You’re killing me,” she moaned, her fingers tugging on his hair when he laughed.

“Would never,” he denied, pulling back to gaze at her with those glimmering pools of moss he called eyes. His lashes framed his eyes so beautifully that she almost missed what he said next. “You promised me forever, my love.”

And, when he looked at her like that, weathered skin stretched with a soft smile and eyes crinkling in delight, how could she give him anything less than a lifetime?

[darknessisafriend]

Arthur who?

Finally posting this short comforting piece about our Artie! enjoy everyone :)

Arthur comes back home, and he doesn’t feel good.

You were reading a book on the sofa, curled up under a blanket to warm you until Arthur would come back and let you snuggle against him, playing with your hair as he listened to your reading. Your attention was soon pulled away from your book as you recognized the familiar footsteps of Arthur on the wooden stairs. Although they sounded heavier, more tired than usual.

Your suspicions were revealed to be true when his steps stopped at the door, a silent pause which made you put your book aside and stand up, almost rushing to the door, had he forgotten his keys? Did something worse happen? You put your hand on the door handle, about to open when his voice stopped you in your movement.

“Knock, knock…” he said, his voice barely hearable from the other side.

“Who’s there?” you replied, ready to listen, feeling his upset, his sadness. Whatever happened outside, it seemed to have deeply affected him.

“Arthur Fleck...”

“Arthur Fleck who…?” you asked, the frown deepening on your face until realization hit you, Arthur had gone silent, not replying, this was his joke…he was the joke. Your eyes filled with tears, and you instantly opened the door, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as you could. His arms remained limp on his sides, he swallowed down, his whole-body trembling in pain, distress, exhaustion. He let his head fall on your shoulder, burying it in the crook of your neck as you pulled him inside, closing the door to shelter him from the world.

You made him sit on the sofa while keeping your arms around him, you didn’t speak at first. Your left hand rubbing his back while the other caressed the back of his head soothingly.

“Why are you here? What makes you stay with a loser like me…” he muttered against your shoulder, his voice shaking as if his words could make you leave him.

“Arthur…what happened? You know you can talk to me.” You reassured him, kissing his temple tenderly, hating to hear he thought so low of himself. You felt a tear of his fall on your collarbone, he sniffled and chuckled at the same time.

“Someone recognized me on the streets today…they said…Hey Joker…when are you going to blow up the mayor? I said I don’t want to do that…they replied ‘you’re such a disappointment... go fuck yourself’…” he explained, each word was painful, he was struggling against his disability, struggling to breathe between giggles. And Arthur had believed that person. Arthur thought himself nothing, a fleck of dust bothering the world.

You pinched your lips together; you knew how much it weighed on him since he had managed to get out of Arkham. “You are Arthur Fleck. And you have no idea how much those two words mean to me.” You spoke, gently cupping his face to try to make him look at you in the eyes. “Arthur I won’t have the pretention of telling you who you are or who you should be. But what I am certain about is: how important you are to my eyes.” You smiled, a tear rolling down your cheek. You took a deep breath and opened your mouth, starting to sing, quietly, a song that reminded you of Arthur, when you met him the first time, how your world collapsed to create a new one, one with Artie.

“There was a boy…A very strange, enchanted boy…They say he wandered very far…Very far, Over land and sea…” you had always found Arthur strange, but as you liked to say, most interesting people are. He was even magical to your eyes, that boy who lived in his fantasies, strong imagination, passionate by music and dance, loving to make children smile, a romantic man gifting flower.

“A little shy…And sad of eye…But very wise was he...” people said he was in his world, a child man with a low IQ, those people obviously didn’t know him. He was an adult man, not afraid to regress to relax, to cry in front of a movie, to be vulnerable in front of others. He didn’t need anyone to infantilize him, he was more than aware of his situation, the problems he had, and all he had ever wanted was help to get through them.              

“And then one day…One magic day he passed my way…And while we spoke of many things…Fools and kings…This he said to me…The greatest thing...You'll ever learn…Is just to love…And be loved in return…” you sang a last time; this time he lifted his eyes to meet yours, his brows furrowing into a feeling of fondness, he loved when you sang, and that song from one of his favorite singers took a meaning it never had before. He let out a soft natural laugh.

“Am I that boy? Really?” he asked shyly, flattered, his hands finding yours, entwinning your fingers with his.

“To me you are Arthur. You are not a symbol, or a myth. You are my lover, and with that chance of being so close to you, I got to know you, I love who you are. No need to define it further than that.” You smiled, bringing your entwinned fingers to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

“Right…I am who I am, I know who I am, you see who I am…and that’s enough.” He replied softly, a smile settling on his lips, his eyes shining as he looked at you devotedly. He didn’t have to care about what others said he was, nor did they have the right to judge him because he wasn’t what they wanted him to be.

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