#Phoenix! joker x reader

[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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[k4marina]

too far in || j.r

for that anon that requested this, i like the way you think. ;)

synopsis: just a snippet of your relationship with the joker

warnings: joker (bc he deserves his own warning), sexual/suggestive themes, angst ig, my spelling probably.

fem!reader x joker

you really couldn't pinpoint when or how it started. it's almost as if he'd always been there; by your side in your bed. you knew it was wrong. having these.. relations with gothams most wanted was a sure way of having either gcpd on your front door or batman, and if the time came you hoped it was the former.

tonights no exception either. it's late, way past anyones bedtime. you're in your bed, sleeping after a long day of work when you felt the bed dip. something that always left you mesmerized was how he never made a sound. you'd only know he was there if he wanted it to be known, otherwise he would just blend into the shadows.

no words are exchanged, you don't need too. you both know what he wants and you have not problem giving it to him after all, you want it too.

he slips in you so easily like all the other times. his cut and callused hands sending shivers throughout your body, jagged nails gripping onto your flesh.

his hips are rutting into yours, leaving you breathless. depending on the time of night or on how much energy you both had it was either slow and somewhat meaningful or crude and animalistic, you just couldn't decide which one you'd prefer.

the only sounds he would make would be low groans and pants or the occasional dirty talk or instructions, never being one to make useless chit-chat, "that's it baby, right there," "what a filthy cunt, just taking my cock in" "imagine what people would say if they found out what we were doing."

you on the other hand were left hot and bothered. moaning whenever he'd hit that right spot, whimpering when his nails or sometimes teeth would clamp down on you, whining every time he'd finish and leave you empty.

when you wake up he's never there, but you know that he was by the smears of red and black grease paint on the pillow next to you. you'd push down the hurt you'd feel in your chest. it's okay. it's for the better. anything more or with him and your life is basically ruined.

but you knew, you were far too deep into him.

[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

[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

[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

[thepinkdreamganjaqueen]

Subway Obsessions Arthur's POV ch.1

Arthur Fleck POV x Fem!Reader  

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: From Arthurs POV. It's just another night on the subway. A typical ride on the Gotham train on his way home from a long day of running errands and away from his tedious depressive thoughts. Perhaps he would catch a glimpse of the woman he could only seem to catch in passing, the woman he’d been secretly watching, following, fantasizing about nightly. Perhaps the unending misery that is the city above had him thinking of change, of something new to obsess about. Something to draw his mind away from the blistering and the mundane. Would he finally get the courage to talk to her? 

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, swearing, stalking, obsession, mentions of violence, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff

A/N: Beginning to a series? Who knows. May add things later. First fic, btw! I'm hyper fixated now, so expect more. This is something I've been mulling around with for a while. I've done this story from both the readers' POV and from Arthur's because I can't get enough!! So, make sure to read both! I loved writing from this perspective so much, btw! Literally! Send ideas, edits, etc. my way!! And be nice please. The first chapter is mostly fluff/ descriptive plot/character building. Cheers! Enjoyyy!

Word Count: 3.9k

SERIES: Subway Obsessions 

CHAPTER 1: Chance Meeting 

Today was another mundane day. Arthur had been out earlier in the evening running errands for his mother. Picking up T.V. dinners at the grocer and medications for him and her at the local pharmacy. Still, getting around the city was a chore in of itself. He figured the subway would be the easiest and quickest way home. It was nearing 10 o'clock pm. His mother would be worried, and it was getting late. He knew the dangers of roaming Gotham city at these hours. His mother used to say, "That's when the colorful people come out." A way to make something serious, completely unserious. Still, he knew the dangers and tried as hard as he might to keep his wits about him. Easier said than done when you're a man with a neurological disorder, apparently so many people hate you for. He wished they’d understood or tried at least.  

He always pondered why the people of Gotham were so... well so mean! Everyone he encountered save for the very, very few were just assholes to him. Perhaps it was the political climate? With Thomas Wayne running for government placement, it probably didn't help. Make the rich richer and the poor poorer he thought. Perhaps it was the state of the city itself, the infrastructure, the lack of resources. He sure has been on the wrong end of that stick one too many times. "Good people suffer Happy," his mother would say. But he never understood why it had to be that way. Life was circumstantial. He didn't ask to have what little he did. He didn't even ask to be born and thought life was the real joke.

It doesn't have to make sense to be funny! He jested internally. Because its fucked! And there lies the comedy for those broken enough to see, yet perhaps healed enough to laugh at the pain. Because, what else can you do?  

His mind wandered through these endless fields of thought when a train car stopped in front of him. He had been standing on the platform disassociating for some time. Perhaps he even forgot where he was for a moment, ruminating over the wrongs of life and playing them out differently in his head. The things he didn't say or do, what he could have done differently... 

The brisk hiss and click of the air brakes as they screeched to a halt brought him back to reality. He blinked a couple of times, waiting for the doors to open. As he did, a disheveled looking figure pushed past him while exiting. He burst out in a cry of compulsory laughter and stepped on the train. He was in the last car and immediately noticed it was bearable, as bearable as riding the subway can be he postulated. 

In his search for a seat towards the end of the train car, he noticed a large putrid looking spill in the back. It melted off the seats and slid across the aisle. It looked sticky. Best to avoid that then, he thought. He opted for a bench seat away from the offending area and sat down, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back, arm outstretched on the head of the seat next to him. No one was in this car except for him. He found a moment of solace and drank it in, filling himself with the noiseless satisfaction of silence and peace when a warbled voice broke over the loud speaker. He couldn't really understand it, but the semblance of words spoke what sounded like “platform 19”. It was all he could understand through the robot whine. He felt anticipation rising within him. 

At approximately 10:15 p.m., the doors of the subway train broke open with a gush of cold night air. At the other end of the subway, he watched as a woman stepped onto the train like a fawn. Scared and unsure of where to go or sit. She was bright and colorful; she immediately caught his eye. Was this what his mother meant by colorful people? He thought to himself. He quickly realized it was her! The girl he had fantasized about daily and nightly, hoping to catch her on the train but only seeming to in his thoughts and dreams, remembering her face, her scent that penetrated her surroundings. He had tirelessly followed her the first time he saw her. She was the only person to smile at him that day. He had to know more and had to know why. But she wasn't always on the same train. He always hoped to run into her and had almost given up, thinking she must have been some sort of hallucination he created for himself to lessen his own pain. But there she was.  

She looked different tonight. She looked like a predator, displaying colors brightly in the face of possible danger. She was a force; he felt the atmosphere change as soon as she stepped in through the steel doors, a thickness lifted in the air and he could feel himself tense in his seat. His clothes were suddenly uncomfortable, his collar too tight, his hands, sweaty. She always looked beautiful when he saw her, she always looked content and comfortable. Hair in a messy bun with strands falling about her face swayed by the wind that surged through the train car. Sweats he could still make out her figure through, leaving him wanting more every time, it drove him crazy! But today she looked like she was straight out of the films on the TV! He thought to himself. She made him think of glamour, it's the only word that truly fit, like the old films he would watch with his mom. Wow! Was she a sight to see, a cool pristine liquid flowing over his burning eyes. A soothing image of pure proclivity. An unknown sense of calm swept over him. 

He watched, frozen, as she cautiously observed the train car searching for a seat. He looked at her from top to bottom. She was significantly smaller than him, petite, probably around five feet three he gauged. Fuzzy black boots, blue jeans tightly hugging her figure, full thick thighs, his mouth began to water - he thirsted for her, wanted to drink in her every essence. He felt a lump in his throat as he tried to choke it down. A tight black shirt under a small cropped pink sweater with red hearts all over. It perfectly displayed her large soft breasts. Brown curls bounced about her shoulders as she walked, strands of them fell daintily on her face and cheeks. As she walked, she would flick it away with a quick movement of her head. The way she did that, moving her hair out of her face without using her hands. It made him tingle in all the right places. His mind raced. What else can she do without using her hands? he thought.  

There was something pink in her hair too, he saw as she walked past. She didn't notice him at first. Most people don't he thought to himself. Although this thought disappointed him, he didn't fault her for it. He had the urge to make her notice him. To be a presence and to be objectified by her, he only wished he could hold that kind of power.  

As she passed, the scent he had come to know as her- wafted past him, he sucked in through his teeth sharply. It was heaven on earth. Stimulating. He would follow that scent hoping to find her, mercilessly searching. It was like a drug, an aphrodisiac, and he felt his cock spasm. She was eyeing the seats towards the back where that odd spill was. A butterfly he thought. It's a pink butterfly in her hair. He immediately felt like a school boy again, fawning over and wanting to get the attention of the pretty girl and for her to return it.  

"This one's fine!" He blurted out, not really knowing what he was saying. She turned around, her beauty, dark, striking, and he found it hard to speak again. He stammered and was able to get the lump out of his throat to follow up with; "I don't know what that is back there but these are not so bad" his voice felt cracked but he tried to contain his composure, he didn't want to scare her off. He was the only other person on the train, and it must have jolted her since she didn't see him at first. Plus, she probably thinks I'm some kind of creep or weirdo, he thought to himself. There was some truth behind those thoughts, but that didn't make him a bad person, he thought. All day, he spends trying to have a nice day to make himself and others happy, trying to think good thoughts, trying not to let the bad influence the good he can salvage. 

"Oh, thank you!" A sweet voice broke the monotony of thought, and immediately he was flung back into the present. She made her way to the seats laid out in front of him. A row of sideways seating. He watched her sit gracefully, slowly, like a calculated ballet dancer, he thought. Every move fluid, every move perfect. When she sat, she arranged her things on the seat next to her and settled in. He wondered to himself where she was going. Why she had so many bags, why she was riding the subway so late, as a woman, she should be terrified. This city is not safe, especially for someone as strikingly beautiful as her. She was like a beacon of light, too bright to stare at, but he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame and simply couldn't resist the allure. 

She actually sat next to me! He thought. Only one seat away, actually next to me. But that wasn't all. She saw him, noticed him, heard him, and listened to him. The weight of these simple gestures made his hands sweaty, and he tried his best to remain aloof. The doors of the train opened on the other side of her, and a breeze blew her hair behind her and over her face. He couldn't help but see her, every aspect of her. He studied her every move, every inch of her body. He wanted this to last, for this image to never leave his mind.  

The wind that blew past her carried on it her scent. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the sweet alluring scent of peach? No. Some kind of berry? No. When the doors shut and the pressure created another breeze, the scent wafted to him again. Taking it all in, he identified the smell as watermelon. Some kind of fruity smell filled his senses with the feeling of euphoria. It was intoxicating. He wondered what it would be like to be pressed up against her, inhaling her deeply. He looked down with a deep sigh when he looked back over. She was moving a strand of hair out of her face and caught a glimpse of her looking at him as well. Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she broke her gaze. She was fire, burning too hot near him, and he wanted so badly to play, to burn himself, engulf himself in her flames breathlessly.  

He tried to come up with something to say, anything. How do I talk to her? What would I even say without sounding stupid? He thought. He watched on as the florescent lights above her flickered. It lit up parts of her he hadn't seen upon first observation. Glitter decorated her collar bones and cheeks. Her sweater was slightly unzipped. He could see the peeking out of her cleavage. Sparkling with glitter, so pretty, she reminded him of the stars of the night sky. Unmistakably beautiful, yet so. Far. Away. He had been working up the courage to say something to her, to hear her voice again, he didn't want to forget it. A symphony replayed in his mind. He needed more.  

He stumbled over his words, "Sorry, I-it's hard for me to talk, I meant to introduce myself. I'm Arthur, " he said in the kindest, most unassuming voice he could muster. She looked up and locked eyes. They burned his insides like hot coals. He anticipated her reply, not knowing if she would even engage in conversation with him. "No worries!" She spoke in a reassuring way that made his heart flutter. "I know how it can be, trust me!" She sounded genuine. Kind. There was something underneath her voice, though he couldn't quite conceptualize. Fear? Doubt, maybe? He wanted to take it away.  

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur!" Again, her voice beaming so light and so lifting. She reached out to shake his hand that he had offered. Her hand was small and was practically swallowed by his. Her fingers were warm, sweeping softly over his palm as she grasped his hand in hers. It's a simple thing, he thought. It was a small touch, but it was enough to make him crumble inside. She felt so nice! "Y/N," he said. "I like that." He lamented. Such a beautiful name. But everything about her was beautiful. Her presence was wholesome and welcoming. Is this real? he pondered. Thoughts took over again, and not knowing how to continue the conversation, they sat in silence for a moment as he worked up the courage to speak again. 

Moments passed that felt like a lifetime, but he was content in her presence, soaking up her aura. As he went to ask her a question, she moved to speak as well. Catching each other off guard, Arthur profusely apologized "No it's okay, go ahead," he said, not wanting to interrupt her. "No, no, that's okay, what were you going to say?" She insisted back. Her voice was small and mousey, she seemed so shy. Why would she be? She screams confidence and power. Even in her apprehensive movements, she seems calculated, he thought to himself. He stole another glance at her. Her eyes sparkled reminiscent of a smokey quartz gem in a bracelet he once saw in a shop window. A thought of her adorned in nothing but gems crossed his mind. He tried to hold onto the image before it left his mind's eye. He felt a flush in his cheeks again, and his eyes darted. He couldn't look her in the eyes for too long. It made him nervous. He was working up the urge to speak again, to say something, anything.  

He broke the silence and asked, "So what brings you to ride the subway so late at night? Aren't you scared?" He uttered jokingly. After saying it, he felt immediate stupidity. Why would I say that? He thought and started an inner spiral. As if seeing his reaction to his own question and wanting to ease the tension building within him, Y/N said, " Well, I work at the Gotham shelter overnight. So, having to ride the train every night, I guess, I've gotten used to it for the most part. But, yeah, I do get scared sometimes. The city can be super sketchy, and I've been attacked twice already, so I had to buy mace and stuff to try and protect myself."  

The words spilled out of her mouth like a wave of glass, he couldn't fathom her ever saying this of all things, it was jolting for him and triggered something within him he had tried so long to hide. His mind raced. He felt anger and rage well up inside of him it hardened his sternum and burned in his throat. He became stiff but was unaware. The spiraling began to start again. This city was ruining people, hurting people, good people! He thought. She helps people, and then people hurt her?! Pieces of shit! He screamed internally. The emotions he felt were at war within himself. He felt rage for her pain and suffering at the hands of this city's denizens, he felt fear for her life knowing she rides the train every night, he felt regret, why couldn't he have been there to help, to do something? He all but took the pain on as his own, it soaked through to his core. He too had been at the mercy of some of the worst people he has ever had the displeasure of encountering in this god forsaken city, he too had been attacked, hurt, mercilessly tortured by these fucking terrible people.  

Lost in his train of thought and looking straight ahead he couldn't help but sternly say in sympathy "These people are just fucking terrible!" She must have noticed his change in demeanor at this declaration. He suddenly felt a warmth cross his leg, and lightly squeeze. It was smooth and comforting. His concentration broke completely. Pulled out of a trance by her as if the thoughts were just zapped out of his brain. His eyes quickly darted back to her where they followed the length of her shoulder, to her arm, and from her arm to her hand that rested upon his thigh. He felt the muscles in his face relax, his shoulders dropped, jaw unclenched. The sheer power she had over him he thought. The warmth emanating off of her palm was like security, a blanket of nostalgia. He couldn't remember the last time he felt what felt like love, like connection, or attachment. He couldn't help but see flashes of images in his mind, her moving her hand closer to his cock which had began to throb. He tried to brush away those thoughts but they plagued him. She was touching him. Something that never happens to him. He immediately craved her touch, he wanted more, he wondered how that would be possible. He thought this couldn't be real. Not this time.  

Once again, breaking his thought pattern she spoke, and he gave her his full attention. "Yeah, but I'm ok now!" She said in a reassuring tone. Her voice, like petals on velvet. Soft, gentle. "You're here now! And so, I feel safe." Safe? He thought, with me? Like she trusts me? He could feel the negative thoughts start to brim to the surface of his mind but quelled them by responding instead. He needed clarification. The words she spoke just didn't make sense to him. He couldn't see why she would or should trust him, although he so badly wanted her to, for this to be true, he needed it to be. He suddenly felt the urge to never leave her, to always be by her side. He would watch, he would follow, and he would do anything for her.  

He only imagined what it would be like to know her both romantically and intimately. "You feel safe? W-with me?" He spoke haphazardly, unsure of the answer he wanted to hear, hoped to hear. "I do." She looked into his eyes sincerely. His heart leapt into his throat; he couldn't breathe. She was so fucking beautiful. He wanted to grab her, to feel her against him. He shifted his legs at the thought. Looking up at him like that weakened him in so many ways. Most noticeably, in his pants, where he tried to conceal the results of his dirty thoughts. "Then I will protect you Y/N" he proclaimed proudly. A shy smile touched her lips and she continued to gaze into his eyes. He smiled back. I make her feel safe, he thought. She is comfortable in my presence. No one even bothers talking to me, no one ever wants to talk to me. He had the urge to speak once more but couldn't find the words.  

Before either of them could speak, the subway speaker rang out once again in that barely audible robotic toned voice announcing the next stop as the harsh brakes squeaked heavily to a stop. As if anticipating her to leave, he just as quickly stood up and offered out his hand. "Thank you," her voice sang. She turned to face him, her small stature looking up at him once more. He held his composure but felt the heat well up inside him. "It was so nice having someone to ride the train with tonight for a change!" She cheerfully exclaimed with a smile.  

She had grabbed her things and had let go of his hand. What sweet bliss it was for the few seconds he had held it. Her fingers, so dainty and soft. The train screeched to a halt, and he instinctively grabbed her hand again and put his other hand at the small of her back to steady her. He could feel the soft curve of her spine. He slowly moved a pinky closer, hoping she wouldn't notice, tracing the line of her jeans as he did, feeling the line of her panty through the fabric. He quickly pulled away as she exited the train. He had held back. He wanted to do so much more. He wanted to turn her around, grab her face and kiss her, shove her onto the subway seats, and have his way with her, make her cry out. He wanted her to miss work. He wanted her to quit! He wanted her all to himself.  

This moment was too perfect. It felt like a dream. As she stepped off the platform and began to walk away, he stood as the doors shut, helplessly watching her as she slowly walked. Unable to stop time. As the train brakes hissed and cranked, he saw her stop and turn around. She had stepped to the doors, but it was too late. He watched on as her figure shrunk into the distance as the train traveled once again into the dark tunnel. He waved. He would see her again. He would make sure of that. Platform 19. He thought, I'll remember this time. 

[lay-z]

I don't know why, but the Joker movie/Arthur Fleck always manage to inspire me like no other piece of media ever did. There's a strange connection and empathy there, it's...almost crazy eh

[fleckssadgirl]

𝓑𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓞𝓾𝓽𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮

Arthur Fleck x Reader

Warning: Gross amounts of fluff.

Enjoy this Christmas Ficlet.

𓆑𓆑𓆑

You hated the cold.

No matter how many oversized sweaters you donned, the wind still found its way through your icy skin.

You enjoyed an evening stroll down to the only area in which Gotham had some greenery: a small park. With your feet in fuzzy socks, and double knotted combat boots, you shivered in the Christmas Eve air. This was not the weather you were hoping for, but you couldn't bring yourself to wuss out, simply from the cold, but you soon regretted your decision. Your nose hairs were starting to turn into icicles, and your ears were getting sore. You could use a large cup of coca, with loads of whipped cream on top. The very thought gave you the energy to leave your walk and up the several flights of stairs to reach your dreadful apartment.

When the screech of a gate reached your ears, you knew that the heat from your building would soon relive your incessant chills. It was by no means a burst of warm air, but it was certainly better than outside, and that was enough for you. Even the rattling of the elevator didn't seem to bother you as much as it normally did: it was warmer than the winter wonderland you had exited from.

You were about to slide the key into the lock when you heard the dull sound of footsteps, nearing you. Glancing upward, your eyes met the figure of your next door neighbour: Arthur Fleck. His head was down, and he was carrying a bag of what you presumed were medications from the pharmacy. You knew of Arthur's condition, from the few times you had spoken to him. He was rather quiet, but you could tell he had a kind soul.

"Hey Arthur!"

He turned around in surprise, his eyes meeting yours. It made your heart stop for a quick second.

"Hey, Y/N." He smiled gently, setting down his bag and reaching for his keys.

"H-have you had a good holiday?"

He turned back towards you again, seeming surprised you were continuing this conversation. He opened his mouth, and shut it again, giving a slight nod.

"That's good." You weren't sure exactly how to continue the conversation and you glanced at your snow-slicked boots, trying to think of another question you could ask him.

Before you could he finally spoke. It was so soft you felt yourself stop breathing in fear it would be too loud.

"How has yours been?"

"Great!" You responded far too quickly and enthusiastically. You cringed inwardly.

This response seemed to have startled him, as his eyes widened and he gripped tightly on his door handle.

Before he could beeline for his apartment, you stepped towards him.

"Uhm, I was going to maybe drink some hot chocolate, and listen to some music. Would you....care to join me?" You felt your face get hot, as you fidgeted with the hems of your sleeves.

He looked down the hall, and back to you.

"What, me?" he questioned, gesturing to himself.

You grinned.

"Yeah, who else, silly?"

His hand was clutching the doorknob with all his might, his eyes darting to his door.

"Well, uhm, my mom is expecting me..." He refused to meet your eyes, as he stared down at a stain in the hideous carpet.

"Oh, well that's alright." You bit your lip, trying to hide the disappointment that most definitely was on your face. You liked the guy, what could you say? There was something very intriguing about him, that kept you wondering.

"Sorry." He barely whispered.

"No, it's alright. I get it. Have a good Christmas." You almost scrambled to get your own door open. Once you had closed it, you felt yourself breathe normally for the first time since you had seen him.

You couldn't lie; you were pretty crestfallen when he made his excuses. You were certain you had freaked him out by being too eager, something you were normally quite good at, but for some reason hadn't been. He gave you butterflies, and you weren't sure why.

Sulking, you trudged towards your sofa and let your weight fall down on top of it, not caring if you had even removed your coat or boots.

It's not like you had expected to see him. Why were you so upset he didn't accept your invite?

You know exactly why, a little voice chirped, to which you huffed in annoyance.

You were too lazy to even get up and make your much needed cup of cocoa, opting for a sip of tepid coffee, which made you gag in repulsion.

So much for a nice Christmas Eve.

It had seemed like hours, but had only been a few minutes, you heard a knock at your door.

Part of you wanted to ignore it, but you also were curious who was on the other side.

You, with some difficulty, finally made yourself get up and open the door.

To your utter and complete surprise, it was Arthur Fleck.

The butterflies returned.

"Hi."

"Hey, Arthur."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

You could swear you could hear your heart beating.

"I-I wanted to come over, it's just...I got nervous and...." a small fit of giggles suddenly erupted from his mouth.

You looked at him with deep concern.

"No, it's ok. Really. I completely understand. You don't need to explain yourself to me." You reached out, resting a hand on his arm, and rubbing it comfortingly.

He clutched his chest, taking a few deep breaths.

"I-I, appreciate it." he finally got out, blinking back his watery eyes.

You smiled at him, your eyes gleaming with warmth.

"Come in. I'll make you some hot chocolate."

He nodded and let you pull him into the apartment.

𓋹

You were stirring a packet of chocolate mix into warm milk, your toes bouncing, as you hummed the chorus to a popular Christmas tune. The cocoas were loaded with whipped cream and topped off with a slightly dinky candy cane. You admired your effort, and took both mugs to where Arthur was sitting.

He was admiring your large collection of records, his eyes set on your special edition of Nat King Cole.

"Jazz fan, huh?"

He set the record down, and reached for the cup of cocoa.

"Yeah, I guess so."

You took a sip. You felt it warm your body almost immediately, and let yourself relax and sink into the sofa. There was something so wonderful about this time of year, even if the cold was like Hell frozen over.

And the company certainly made it better.

You supposed he was quiet because he didn't have much to say, but, you wondered if maybe he had so many inhibitions set into him, that he just chose not to talk, in fear of what others would think.

"Why are you always so nice?"

The question seemingly came out of nowhere and took you off guard.

"Because I like you."

You couldn't believe you had said that with so much nonchalance, you wanted to both pat yourself on the back and smack yourself in the face.

He nearly spat out the hot chocolate from his mouth. Choking slightly, he gasped for air.

"Y-you d-do?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I? You take care of your mom, you work in a place to make people laugh, and you always smile at me when we cross paths. I think you have such a lovely soul, Arthur. I hope that you know that."

He seemed genuinely grateful for your praise. It was clear he didn't hear it often. You feared that people often judged him because of his condition.

"No. I guess I didn't." He ran his hands down his arms as if a chill had run through him. "I think that I don't deserve that."

You wanted to cry at his confession. What a tragic admission, to not know your own goodness.

"Oh, Arthur. I know you do."

Before either of you could comprehend what was happening, had reached out for his face, and had kissed him.

It was brief, and uninteresting, but it sent a larger wave of heat than the hot chocolate had.

You wanted another one.

You hesitated, fearing he hadn't wanted to be touched this way, but were completely shocked when he reached for the back of your neck and kissed you again, this time with a little more movement.

Your head had gone completely fuzzy, and you had forgotten all concepts of time.

When he pulled away, you let out a rattly breath.

"Wow, Arthur I had no i-"

You didn't finish your sentence before his mouth was on yours again.

There was no stopping him now. You had confessed, and now so had he. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his hands slid from your neck to your waist, and finally settled on your hips.

Neither of you were sure how long you kissed, but you were certain the moment he released you that you were addicted.

You laughed, your fingers finding their way through his chestnut curls.

"You keep that up, there's no way I'm letting you leave."

He chucked.

"I probably should. My mother might need me."

Before he could stand up, you let your legs cage him between you.

"Nooo, you can't go now. I just got warm." you pouted.

"Y/N, c'mon, you'll be alright. I promise."

And with that he lifted you off him, and made his way to the door.

Before you could feel more saddened at his disappearance he turned just before exiting.

"Don't worry baby. I'll be back."

With a wink, he closed the door behind him.

Merry Christmas indeed.

𓆑𓆑𓆑

Hope you like!

Have the most wonderful Christmas!

<3 Lyddie

[arthurflecksgirl]

Conversations with Arthur

Arthur comforting reader after watching Folie a deux

This is for all of you who love him

Word count: 2000

Warnings : None really. Slight mention of a panic attack

Genre : Comfort

Your eyes avoided the screen quite some time before credits started rolling. Arthurs comforting voice echoed from the speakers of the theatre, singing promising words about the future. How could they? How dare they to play his voice in a hopeful tune after what you just saw? You kept your red face, swollen from crying so hard buried inside your shaking hands. You didnt wanted to catch any attention from the people who still remained in their seats. They must think you're crazy. And at the same same time you didn’t care anymore.

You didnˋt care about the fact that your crying must have been louder than Arthurs soft voice singing. You didnˋt care about anything anymore. The one thing you cared about most had just been taken away from you. That one person who helped you making it through the past 5 years of your life.  Arthur Fleck. He who understood you the way you understood him. He who comforted you during your worst days and ugliest breakdowns. Your love. Your light.

They dared to blow out his candle which was the only fllicker left inside of you. They took him away, making it seem like nothing but a bad punchline. He who deserved so much better. Who still belived in love after all he had been through. Arthur, the man who finally came to terms with who he is. Was that the price he had to pay for being his sweet self? Was that the price you had to pay for loving a man who needed love more than anything in his life?

„….but how can it  recognize you, if you donˋt step ot into the light, the light…“

It was the first time ever his voice couldnˋt make you feel better. Even though it sounded like a distance whisper from heaven itself. True love will find you in the end.

He is your true love. And you long to be his. Whatˋs left to do now? Left to cling onto? Arthur….please stop singing. I love you so much. I need you here. I need you here  physically. I need your tiney body in my arms. I need to feel that you are real. Donˋt sing unless your mouth is forming these words right beneath my ear. Donˋt sing unless you see in how much pain I am griefing you. Donˋt sing unless I feel your breath on my cheek.

You still heard his voice after the curtain had closed. It was time to stand up and leave the cinema minutes ago but you physically couldnt . Moving seemed impossible, opening your eyes seemed like a violent act. The speakers didnt play any music anymore but you still heard him. „Donˋt be sad I know you will….but donˋt give up until...“

It was getting harder and harder to breathe. The dizziness coming over you was overwhelming. A panick attack was setting in. You wanted to leave this place but…No you didnt. You had to stay. There must be another scene after all. Another ending. This is nothing but a bad joke. The red curtain will open and the screen will reveal the real ending of the movie. It has to. You cannot go home like that and accept what you just saw. This man deserved to live. To live a better life. To reveive support. To be seen and loved.

Arthur!

Please stay with me. I

I know you are still alive. Credits rolled way too quickly…..They tricked us real bad, didnt they? A cliffhanger…itˋs just….a deusion….the title of the movie is Folie a deux after all.

Amd then you blacked out .

 

A bright light lulling you in as you opened your eyes. The curtains of the cinema changed their colors to blue, red orange and yellow. The curtains of the Murray Franklin show. The colors Arthur imagined the black umbrellas to be.

The room was empty except for you and…..

Arthur????

You must have hallucinated. Arthur was sitting on the seat beside you. A concerned look on his face, as he tendlerly layed his hand on your knee „Y/N“ he whispered. „Donˋt be sad….I donˋt want you to be sad“.

You shifted within your seat to face him as you tried to catch your breath. „Thats….thatˋs not….posssible…“

Arthur pulled out a handkerchief  with the words „Worldˋs best comedian“ stitched on it. For a quick moment you felt almost happy about that fact that someone must have given it to him , which means that he is appreciated by someone who thinks heˋs funny. You always thought that he was funny in a adorable and unique kinda way. If only you could make him happy by laughing about his jokes.

You took the handkerchief and felt bad about wiping your face and cleaning your nose with it. It must be so precious to him.

„Arthur….I ….“

It was impossible to form words. Impossible to say anything. Your only instinct left was to take him into your arms. To feel if he was real. If he was a body made of flesh and bones. If he had physical  form that would have a weight to it. You wanted him to exist so baldy.. Somehow you always knew that he did.

You looked into his eyes for the very first time and not into a screen. It was him and every single line on his face was him. It was his curls stroking your cheek softly when you finally out your arms around his fragile body. It was his arms crossing behind your shoulders, letting you sink deeper into his embrace.

Arthur

It was Arthur

And he was so much realer than he was on screen.

You never wanted to let him go. You wanted this to be your final moment. Let the curtains close here. Let the curtains of your own story close right at this moment. You didnˋt need any moment to follow after this. Let his arms around you be the final act.

It was uncertain who loosened the embrace fist but it didnˋt felt like it loosened. It only did so you could look into each others eyes.

He looked at you in silence. Arthur never was a man of many words. The expression of his face spoke volumes. He felt your pain. He empathized. You were the same.

„Arthur….how is that even possible? Am I hallucinating?“

Arthur pulled out a cigarette, lit it and too a deep drag. His left hand searching for your own hand, covering it like a protective shield. „What does it matter?“ he shrugged slightly „I am with you anyways….I always was.“

Your teary eyes observed his beautiful sillhouette. Arhur was so much stronger than it seemed. You could have sworn that a bright aura surrownding his figure. Almost like a protective shield.

He was save. Arthur was save.

„I always feel your presence, Arthur…“

He blew out some smoke, making  intense eye contact „Thatˋs because Iˋm with you“

„Really? I thought I was just….daydreaming. You know…wishful thinking“

„Well….“ Arthur chuckled „Thatˋs how itˋs always starting, isnˋt it?“

He closed his eyes as he leaned back into the seat „As some kind of dream I mean“

You coudnˋt take your eyes off him. Arthur was even more handsome in person. From his soft curls, to his strong eyebrows, the shape of his nose, the scar on his upper lip….

Your hand reached out to touch the fabric of his brown cardigan, to see if it felt real.

Arthur finished his cigarette ,laughing as you pulled your hand away out of nervousness. You spent the last five years loving this man and yet you werenˋt sure if it was allowed to touch him as you wanted to.

„Itˋs okay Y/N….you can touch me. Come here!“

He shifted in his seat, took your hand and put it on his face . Hs skin was soft, freshly shaved. „See? Iˋm real.“

He grinned. „Funy isnˋt it? I never thought I could say this with such confidence. I am real. I never felt real for most of my life“ . Arthurs voice dropped for a second „Sometimes I felt like other people made me up in ther minds and I am just a fool playing out their fantasies like….“

„Like what Arthur?“ you caressed his shoulder softly.

„Like in this movie…“

You immediately felt a lump in your throat as he mentioned it. Your mind went back to what you just saw. Arthur on the ground.

„But you know what?“ he sighed „They make movies about me all the time. I mean. There is a movie within the movie.“

He put his hand on your hand which still remained on his shoulder „There was a cartoon even. Do you think it was funny?“

You didnˋt knew what to say. The last thing you wanted to talk about was the movie you just saw. All you wanted to concentrate on was that Arthur was sitting right beside you and he seemed pretty much alive.

„Um…nevermind. Just sing a song with me okay? It will make you feel better….“

All of the sudden he twitched. His hand touching his stomach.

„Arthur, are you okay?“

„Yeah…“

„Are you sure?“

You lifted his cardigan to check. You felt that he was more than okay with that.

His skin was unharmed. Not only that but a bright, green light was coming from his belly.

„Itˋs just an echo from different timelines…. Nothing the healing light of archangel Raphael canˋt fix“ he smiled. „You know….they are with you, Just like I am. The angels I mean….and let me tell you. They know some good jokes. Sometimes they even laugh at my dark humor but donˋt tell anyone“.

You placed your hand underneath his belly button.

„The angels healed you?“

Arthur chuckled in a shy way „And your love did“

He reached out to touch your face but wasnˋt confident enough to do so.

„Itˋs okay ,Arthur…..you can touch me. Itˋs more than okay. In my dreams we touch each other all the time“ you felt yourself blushing.

Arthurs fingers traveled over your face as if he was reading braille.

„Itˋs good to know that you are real,too“ he said almost to himself.

„I always was…but I think I became more real after loving you,Arthur“

„So letˋs make each other real, huh?“ he mumbled.

„You are not just imaginary, like they said in court….“ He added. „Not just a fantasy in my diary…“

 

It was only now that you realized that you still had Arthurs handkerchief.

„Oh, I am sorry I still have your…“

„You can keep it.“

„No…..Arthur….that must have been a personal gift from someone special….WORLDS BEST COMEDIAN…itˋs yours!“

He took it, only to put it in your pocket „You are right. It really is from someone special. I never forget the day when you gifted it to me for my birthday. Remember, darling? When we first found out that my birthday was really my birthday? That was kinda special….“

He stood up from his seat, one hand rubbing his tummy. Everything was fine.

„What….what do you mean, Arthur? I gifted it to you?“

The worldˋs best comedian bend forward to give you a tight hug „You know there is a timline where we met decades ago and movies are made about our love and they all have a happy ending. This is where I am going now.“

He kissed your cheek and you felt like youˋve been marked with bliss.

„Iˋll meet you there, darling“ his voice echoed through the cinema room as the light around him grew bigger.

„Besides…I totally forgot to sing you the song….“

You felt a smile crossing your face. No movie could take that away from you. No movie could take him away from you.

„I love you, Arthur“ you whispered.

Arthur faded into bright light as he smiled back at you and sang

 

„Whippoorwills call, eveninˋ is nigh

Hurry to my, blue heaven

Turn to the right, thereˋs a little white light

Will lead you to my, blue heaven

Youˋll see a smiling face, fireplace, a cosy room

Little nest that nestle where the roses bloom

Just honey and me, and the baby makes three

Weˋre so happy in my, blue heaven“

[knoepfl]

A Warm Embrace

Characters: - Arthur Fleck (Joker) – A complex and fragile man, struggling with loneliness and illness. - Reader (You) – A loving partner who wants to care for Arthur, showing him compassion and warmth. Trigger Warnings: - References to illness (fever, coughing) - Emotional vulnerability and self-doubt - Mentions of poor self-worth

Masterlist

Summary: Arthur Fleck returns home soaked from the rain and clearly unwell. Despite his resistance, the reader lovingly insists on taking care of him, giving him a warm bath and showing him that he is not alone. Through gentle touches and quiet moments, the reader provides the warmth Arthur so desperately needs, helping him open up emotionally.

Word Count:~5,013

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The rain poured relentlessly outside, casting a dreary veil over the city. You sat curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the television but not really watching. Your mind was preoccupied, worry gnawing at you as the clock ticked on. Arthur should have been home by now, and the longer he was gone, the more your anxiety grew.

He had been feeling under the weather for the past few days, coughing and sneezing as he tried to carry on with his life. You knew he wasn’t taking care of himself as he should, and it made your heart ache. All you wanted was to nurture him, to be the light in his dark world, but it seemed like every time you reached out, he pulled away, too proud to accept help.

Just as you were about to call him, the front door creaked open, and the sound of dripping water echoed through the hallway. You shot up from the sofa, rushing to see him. Arthur staggered in, drenched from head to toe, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his clothes clinging to his skin. He looked utterly miserable.

“Hey,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Arthur! You’re soaked!” You rushed over to him, instinctively reaching out to help him. “What happened?”

“Just got caught in the rain,” he replied, his voice hoarse and raspy.

“Yeah, I can see that. Come on, let’s get you out of those wet clothes.” You gently took his hand, leading him to the bathroom.

He hesitated, looking down at his drenched attire. “It’s fine. I’ll just change in a minute.

”You frowned, crossing your arms. “Arthur, you’re freezing! You need to warm up.”

He sighed but followed you to the bathroom. You turned on the hot water, letting it fill the tub while you rummaged through the linen closet for a towel and some clean clothes. You pulled out a fluffy towel and a pair of his soft pajamas, handing them to him.

“Here. Just take a quick bath to warm up, okay?” You offered a reassuring smile.

He looked at the tub, then back at you, and you could see the internal struggle in his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m not really the bathing type.

”You chuckled softly. “It’s just a bath, Arthur. You’ll feel better afterward, I promise. Plus, I’ll be here to help you.”

He looked uncertain, but the chill in the air seemed to urge him on. Finally, he nodded, and you stepped out of the bathroom, giving him a moment of privacy to undress. You could hear the water splashing as he climbed into the tub, and you felt a sense of relief that he was finally taking a moment for himself.

When you re-entered the bathroom, steam filled the air, and Arthur was sitting in the tub, his shoulders hunched, looking almost defeated. You knelt beside him, the warmth from the water radiating against your skin.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” you said, your voice gentle.

He offered a small smile, albeit a weary one. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

You took a washcloth and soaked it in the warm water before gently wiping his face. He leaned back a little, his eyes fluttering shut as you worked. “You’re really taking care of me,” he murmured, his voice quiet.

“Of course I am,” you replied softly. “You deserve it. You do so much for everyone else. Let me take care of you for a change.”

His eyes opened, meeting yours, and there was a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze. “I don’t want to be a burden.

”You shook your head firmly. “You’re not a burden, Arthur. You’re my partner. I love you, and I want to help.”

He looked away, his expression pained, and you could see the walls he had built up around himself. “I just... I feel weak sometimes.”

You paused, gently cupping his face, urging him to look at you. “It’s okay to feel weak. We all do. But it doesn’t mean you’re not strong, Arthur. Strength is about allowing yourself to be vulnerable.”

He sighed, letting his head fall back against the tub. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It can be. Just let go for a moment.”

You reached for the shampoo, pouring a small amount into your palm before lathering it into his hair. He closed his eyes again, and you could see the tension in his shoulders ease as you massaged his scalp, fingers working through the tangled strands.

“Your hands are magic,” he murmured, a hint of a smile on his lips.

You laughed softly, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “It’s just some shampoo and a little love.”

As you rinsed his hair, you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were to have this moment with him. Arthur was often so consumed by his thoughts and struggles, but here, in the warmth of the bathroom, he felt almost at peace.

Once his hair was clean, you turned your attention to his body, gently washing away the grime and stress that clung to him. You took your time, careful to avoid any sensitive areas, but your touch was soft and soothing.

Arthur leaned into your touch, his eyes drifting shut again, and you could see the relief on his face. “You really care about me, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a whisper.

“More than anything,” you replied, your heart swelling with affection. “I just want you to feel better.”

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of appreciation and something deeper, something that made your heart race. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You smiled brightly. “Well, you don’t have to find out. I’m here, remember?”

With that, you helped him rinse off, and as you wrapped a towel around him, you couldn’t help but notice how fragile he looked, standing there shivering in the warm air. You guided him back to the living room, wrapping him tightly in another blanket, trying to shield him from the chill of the world outside.

“Stay here. I’ll get you something warm to drink,” you said, heading back to the kitchen.

When you returned with a steaming cup of herbal tea, you found Arthur curled up on the sofa, looking far more comfortable than before. He took the mug from your hands, cradling it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“Thank you,” he said, taking a small sip and letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

You settled beside him, leaning into his side. “How do you feel?”

“Better. Much better.” He paused, looking down at you. “You really are amazing, you know that?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I’m just doing what anyone would do.”

“No, you’re special.” He turned to face you fully, his expression earnest. “I don’t deserve you.”

You frowned, shaking your head again. “Don’t say that. You deserve all the love in the world, Arthur.”

He looked away, his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts. “It’s hard for me to accept that sometimes.”

You took his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay to feel that way. But I’m here, and I want you to lean on me.”

He took a deep breath, the weight of his struggles apparent in his eyes. “I’ll try. I just—sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in my own thoughts.”

You leaned in closer, resting your head against his shoulder. “Then let me be your life raft. I’ll always be here to pull you back.”

He smiled softly, his fingers intertwining with yours. “You really mean that?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, your heart swelling with sincerity.

For a moment, you both sat in silence, sipping your tea, simply enjoying each other’s presence. You could feel the warmth radiating between you, filling the space with a comforting energy.

Eventually, Arthur shifted, looking down at you. “You’re too good for me, you know?”

You raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh really? Is that so?”

“Yeah,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “I’m just a mess of a person, and you... you’re so much more.”

You shook your head, sitting up to meet his gaze. “I love you for who you are, Arthur. The messiness and all. You make me happy, and that’s what matters.”

His expression softened, and you could see the love shining in his eyes. “You make me want to be better.”

“Then let me help you be better,” you said softly, resting a hand on his cheek. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “Okay. I’ll try.”

As the rain continued to patter softly against the window, you wrapped your arms around Arthur, holding him close. He melted against you, the tension in his body dissipating as he relaxed into your embrace.

In that moment, you knew that together, you could weather any storm.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! I wanted this story to capture a softer, more vulnerable side of Arthur Fleck—a side that often gets overlooked. Arthur is a character burdened with pain and loneliness, so I thought it would be heartwarming to explore what it might be like for him to experience real care and kindness from someone who loves him.

If you’re here, I hope this little moment of fluff gave you some comfort too. We all deserve to feel seen and cared for, just like Arthur does in this story. Thank you again, and I’d love to hear your thoughts! Take care, and don’t forget to be kind to yourself. ~♡

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 14

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: 3438

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Wayne Manor stood on a huge, sprawling estate. Living in Gotham made it easy to forget that places like this existed in the world. The trees were greener. The streets were so clean, they almost sparkled. There were no sirens, no smell of rotting garbage, no hunched over zombies stumbling in the streets. This part of Long Island was like a little eden - a heaven on earth carved out and carefully guarded by the ultra wealthy. 

“This is it,” you breathed as you and Arthur approached the gates. Fortunately, there were no angry dobermans prowling about the grounds today. Only freshly-trimmed grass and the towering mansion in the distance. You wondered if anyone was even home. 

Suddenly, Arthur froze in his tracks. “Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” 

He turned to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets, throwing his eyes to the ground.

“What do you think he’ll say?”

Your heart broke for Arthur all over again. You couldn’t imagine all the emotions that must be careening through him right now.  

“Thomas Wayne?” you drew in a breath. “I guess I don’t know what he’ll say. But we’re gonna get an answer out of him one way or another.” 

“I just…” Arthur sighed. “I just want him to talk to me. You don’t think that’s too much to ask, is it?”

You reached out and stroked Arthur’s cheek. 

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “After all, you said your mother’s been writing to him all this time and she hasn't gotten a response. I’m sure the Waynes have people who handle their correspondence - maybe they’ve ignored it or maybe nothing’s gotten through yet. Either way, I know I’d do the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

Arthur looked up at you. Those arresting, green eyes: filled with hope, hurt, anticipation. You said a silent prayer in that moment that whatever happened next, Arthur got the answers he needed. The answers he fucking deserved. 

Arthur pulled his hands out of his pockets and clasped them over your wrist. “I’m so glad you’re here, Y/N. If I had to come all by myself, I don’t think I’d have the guts to-”

He stopped, his eyes catching hold of something in the distance.

“What is it?” You turned around. Nothing had moved or changed that you could see. It took you a minute of scanning the surroundings until, finally, you spotted him: a tiny, sad-looking little boy playing all alone on a wooden jungle gym near the front gates. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old. 

“I think that’s his son,” you murmured. “I heard about him a couple times in the news.”

“Bruce Wayne,” Arthur said. 

“That’s right, Bruce.” You stared at the boy, mystified. There was a distinct melancholy and isolation you could feel radiating off of him, even from so far away. 

“He looks so…so…” You struggled to find the words.

“Alone.” 

You pursed your lips and looked back at Arthur, nodding. And then another realization dawned on you. 

“Oh my God,” you blinked. “If Thomas Wayne really is your father, then that would mean…”

Arthur swallowed, nodding. “I’ve thought about that, too. I know it sounds crazy, but now that I see him…I…”

You waited. 

“He reminds me so much of myself when I was a little boy.” 

“Oh shit,” you exhaled, looking back at Bruce, then back at Arthur. “I mean…I suppose given what your mother’s said…what do you wanna do, Arthur?” 

Arthur took a deep breath and to your surprise, a warm, gently confident smile began to spread across his face. 

“I’m gonna go say ‘hi.’”

“Do you want me to come with you?” You wanted Arthur to feel completely supported. You knew that sometimes being supportive looked like coming along, and other times it looked more like hanging back and letting the other person take the lead. 

“I think I should do this part myself,” he said. “But I’ll come get you if I need to.” 

“I’ll be right here,” you squeezed his hand. “I love-”

Wait, what the hell were you saying? Had you completely taken leave of your senses?

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat. “I love…waiting!” you finished brightly, hoping he’d buy it. “I’ll wait as long as you need and I’ll be right here. Be strong, okay? And if they give you any trouble, call me and…I’ll beat everyone up!”

Arthur smiled, lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, sending chills through your entire being. If he’d somehow picked up on your almost-love-confession, he didn’t show it. 

Arthur already has enough on his mind right now, you chastised yourself as you watched him approach the gate. He doesn’t need you muddling it further with your irrational emotions. 

You couldn’t tell Arthur you loved him now. First of all, it was way too soon. 

Second of all…

Well, the second part was embarrassing. And more than a little crazy. You knew your feelings for Arthur were real, but that didn’t stop you from recognizing how intense they were after only knowing him a short time. 

So why, then, did it feel like the most natural thing to say? The thing you sensed he needed to hear?

You meandered further up the drive, away from the entrance, giving Arthur his space but staying close enough so you could quickly run to his side if necessary. 

It was startlingly quiet here compared to the endless cacophony of Gotham City. So quiet, it felt like if you stopped and listened carefully, you could hear the wind in the trees singing to you. 

Despite the peaceful surroundings, however, bitter memories began to weave their way into your mind. You knew a good faction of your former GU classmates hailed from this part of Long Island - hell, some of their families probably even rubbed elbows with the Waynes themselves: probably got invited to their fancy Christmas and New Year’s Eve parties, toasting their continued privilege and fortune over a bottle of champagne that cost more than you made in a month. 

You didn’t have anything in common with those people. So how on earth had you found yourself among them in the first place? 

The answer was almost annoyingly simple: your parents had drilled the importance of getting an education into you since you were a toddler, telling you it would open doors, get you the better life you deserved…unlike the two of them who’d gotten jobs straight out of high school and lamented nonstop how much the lack of a college education had held them back from their potential. 

“Potential,” you muttered to yourself under your breath. That was the word they’d always used and it still left a sour taste in your mouth. 

“You have so much potential, Y/N,” they’d always say. “But you can’t let it go to waste. You have to work three times as hard as everyone else in order to realize it.”  

You’d believed them - bought their promises hook, line and sinker and dutifully applied yourself like the good little girl you were. The truth was, you’d never quite fit in at Burnley High, either. Most of the kids there dropped out or phoned in the bare minimum to scoot by and pick up a diploma, but you’d been among the top five performers in your graduating class of over 400 students. You’d done the extra work, taken the hardest classes, stayed home and sacrificed any semblance of a normal teenage social life to mold yourself into the high-achieving student your family wanted you to be. 

And it had paid off. At least for a brief moment in time. When the letter from Gotham University arrived saying you’d gotten in with a full scholarship, you’d cried tears of joy. Your mother had cried. Your father said he was proud of you. He never said things like that.

You remembered back to that day: the teary-eyed seventeen year old girl holding an acceptance letter in her sweaty, trembling hands like a golden badge of honor. That badge represented everything you’d worked your entire life for, everything you’d ever wanted: Validation. Recognition. Belonging.

Belonging. Yes, back then, that same girl believed she was finally being admitted through the golden gates to a place she belonged. You’d been naive enough to assume that at college you’d encounter more people like yourself, people who came from nothing but made amazing things happen through hard work and belief in themselves. 

But Gotham U had been nothing like you’d expected. 

Yes, the students were bright, but the vast majority were also spoiled and entitled. They seemed to take their enrollment at the school for granted, and the fact that their parents paid their tuition in full (were able to pay it in the first place) didn’t in any way accelerate their work ethic. These were kids whose parents owned country houses, summer houses and yachts. Kids who went to horseback riding camp every summer since they were six, learned how to ski when they were four, took vacations over spring break to places like Paris or Barcelona or the Hamptons. 

You’d never even ridden on an airplane. 

How ignorant that girl with the acceptance letter was, you mused. The dream of being a student at Gotham University had powered everything you’d worked for the first 17 years of your life…and all too late turned into a horrible nightmare. 

“Potential.” What did it mean now? Of course, your parents were still holding out hope you’d eventually return to GU. But GU was just like the Waynes themselves: they wanted to portray themselves as a beacon of magnanimity and altruism, but when it came to actually stepping up and doing the right thing, their interests lay solely with themselves and their ability to maintain wealth and power. When the cards were down, a poor scholarship girl from Burnley High didn’t qualify for basic human consideration. And your biggest mistake was believing that they ever would. 

After all the unpleasantness that had occurred towards the end of your first year - the school’s administration “generously” forcing you to take medical leave or be expelled - you’d started to believe you didn’t belong anywhere. You didn’t see a future for yourself anymore. And feeling this way not only made you incredibly sad, but it scared you. 

But all that had started to change since meeting Arthur. Arthur, you imagined, who right now was probably feeling the same way you had on the first day of freshman orientation: Hoping, with the most optimistic part of his heart, that he just might find the love and acceptance he’d yearned for for so long.  

But was life on the other side of those golden gates all that Arthur imagined it could be? 

Suddenly, you felt extremely protective of him. You knew it was inappropriate to eavesdrop, but who were you kidding? Just the thought of Arthur going through something similar to your experience at that school was unthinkable. You tiptoed closer - not close enough to be spotted, but close enough to give yourself the best chance of overhearing…well, spying. 

“Bruce! What are you doing?” Another man’s voice shot out accusingly over the quiet. “Get away from that man.”

Shit. Not good. Your heart started to race. 

Please, you prayed, please don’t be assholes. 

You realized almost immediately how useless such a plea was. These were the Waynes, after all. 

“It’s okay,” you heard Arthur respond. “I’m a good guy.”

Resisting the urge to race to Arthur’s side took every inch of self control in your body. You reminded yourself that he’d wanted to do this alone. You wanted to respect that. Arthur could hold his own. He was a strong person, deep down. And dealing with rudeness was nothing he wasn’t accustomed to.

But if they were complete assholes to him, you didn’t know how much you could tolerate. 

You crept even closer, still hidden behind the giant shrubs that surrounded the estate. The other voice couldn’t belong to Thomas Wayne, you reasoned. Thomas Wayne didn’t have an English accent.  

“Can you tell Mr. Wayne that I need to see him?” Arthur asked. 

At that moment, the wind picked up, compromising your ability to hear as clearly as before. You cursed under your breath, cupping your hand to your ear. 

“...your mother was a sick woman,” you heard the other man say to Arthur in the coldest, most unfeeling tone imaginable. “She was delusional.”

Your jaw dropped. Your right hand fell from your ear and twisted reflexively into a fist. 

“Don’t say that,” you growled under your breath. 

Exactly who the fuck did these people think they were? Couldn’t they put themselves in another person’s shoes for just one fucking second? If the roles were reversed, wouldn’t they want the same answers? Didn’t everyone deserve that? 

Deep breaths, Y/N, you told yourself. Deep breaths. 

“Just go,” the man’s cruel, disdainful voice echoed up the drive. “Before you make a bigger fool of yourself.” 

That did it. Fuck the deep breaths. Fuck taking the high road. And fuck this rude asshole.

The entire world blurred into raging red as you found yourself barreling like a fiery cannonball down the drive to Arthur’s side, ready to fight, to climb those gates like an acrobat and beat the living hell out of that asshole - any anyone else who wanted some, too. 

How dare he talk to Arthur Fleck, your Arthur Fleck, that way? 

When you rounded the corner, you were surprised and more than a little satisfied to see that Arthur had already reached through the gates and grabbed the dude by his collar, holding him in a semi-chokehold. 

“Kick his ass!” you cried out. “Kick his motherfucking ass!” 

The rude man’s eyes darted to you, filled with surprise, confusion, fear. And the inability to utter another word for lack of oxygen. 

Good.

You pulled your right arm back and swung through the gates with all your strength, punching him square across the face while Arthur held him in place. The man’s nose started bleeding and you smiled. Your anger made you strong, increased your strength exponentially in the moments you needed it most. Though you’d never admit it to anyone, it was one of the things you actually liked about this part of yourself that you were supposed to reject, to work so hard to rid yourself of. 

You liked feeling strong in a world where everyone was more than happy to step and walk all over you without a second thought. And you were tired of pretending you didn’t.

Arthur was a slight, diminutive man, but his anger made him strong, too. He had the asshole so tight by the collar, it looked like his face was turning red. 

You were winding up, about to strike again when you suddenly registered the face of the sad little boy from before. Standing off to the side, he was now a very scared-looking little boy; frozen like a little Bambi fawn, eyes wide, terrified. 

Terrified…of you. Of the both of you. 

Those bewildered eyes were enough to stop you in your tracks. All at once, common sense and empathy rushed back into your heart like an ocean wave. As much as this surly jackass deserved a beatdown, you knew you’d never forgive yourself for permanently traumatizing a defenseless little kid. 

Even if he was a Wayne. 

As though he’d come to the same realization at the same exact moment, Arthur released the man just as you stopped yourself from throwing another, harder, right hook. The jerk fell backwards, clutching at his crumpled collar, and Arthur grabbed your arm. Without exchanging a word, you raced back up the drive together, running like two gazelles as fast as your feet could carry you. 

The next few minutes were a continued blur. Wayne Manor receded further and further into the background as you drew closer to the train station. You’d been too afraid to turn back and see if anyone was chasing you, but by now the adrenaline was wearing off, and your legs felt like they could give out at any second. 

“Arthur, wait!” you stopped, breathlessly, reaching out to grab him by the sleeve. Mustering up the courage to look back, you were relieved to see you hadn’t been followed. You’d managed to escape by the skin of your teeth. 

“I think we’re in the clear,” you gasped for air. 

Arthur stopped and turned to face you, panting. “Are you alright, Y/N? Are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine,” you shook your head. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. This is all my fault.”

A confused look came across his face and he took both your hands into his. “What do you mean?”

“I went crazy again. I werewolfed! I didn’t mean to, it's just…” your eyes filled with tears, realizing all too late of course, that the last thing you’d wanted in accompanying Arthur today was to do anything that would ultimately result in making it harder for him to get the answers he needed. 

How could you have let this happen? 

Arthur held up a hand to stop you. “I went crazy first,” he pointed out. 

“Well, yeah, you grabbed the guy,” you conceded. “But I’m the one who made his nose bleed, for God’s sake! I never would’ve done it if I knew the kid was watching.” You shook your head, tears filling your eyes. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved…”

“No, Y/N,” Arthur squeezed your hands in his. “I’m glad you were there. I didn’t wanna scare the little boy, either. Seeing him brought me back to myself. I know what it’s like to be scared at that age…scared and helpless…”

Arthur’s words made the tears you’d been fighting swell over and you fell into his arms. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. Shh, come here.” Arthur pulled you into a tight embrace against his chest. 

“I didn’t mean to scare him,” you sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m a bad person, Arthur. I’m awful.”

“That’s not true!” he protested. “Why are you saying that?”

He stepped back and tried to look you in the eye, but you were too ashamed to face him. The mean, inner voice you’d suffered with in secret since you were a little kid had taken over and had you in its iron grip of shame:

You don’t deserve to be loved.

You’re defective.

You’re worthless.

You’re awful. 

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Arthur whispered into your hair. “I understand. I understand what you’re feeling. But it’s not true. Whatever you’re telling yourself right now is not true.” 

You cried harder into his embrace. You might have known he’d understand. You’d found the one person in the world who felt what you felt - or at least the one person brave enough to admit to it. 

“Please don’t cry, Y/N.” You could feel Arthur’s heart pounding against your ears. “You're not a bad person,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re anything but a bad person.”

“But I messed everything up. Like I always do.”

“You stopped yourself from taking things further,” Arthur pointed out. “We both did. That means something.” 

“But how are you gonna find out if Thomas Wayne’s your father now?” you wailed. “How are you gonna get your answers?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Arthur reassured you. “I don’t want you worrying about that.”

Arthur brought his hands to your face, cradling it. You looked up into his shining, green eyes, tenderness emanating from them. His fingers gently stroked back your hair, wiped away your tears. 

“You need to breathe, Y/N. Can you take a deep breath?”

He breathed with you. In and out. And in and out again. Finally, you felt your pulse begin to slow, the maddening blur of self-hatred and negative vitriol shift from a wild gallop to a trot. It was a small change, but enough to allow you to start feeling human again. 

Arthur stepped back and a small, shy smile spread across his face. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said. 

You wiped your nose, bewildered. “‘Thank you’? For what?” 

“For coming here with me. For standing up for me the way you have. No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.”

“But, Arthur, I-”

“If you hadn’t been there for me, I’d be all alone right now,” he interjected. “Like I’ve been all my life. But I’m not alone anymore. Because of you.”

His shy smile shifted into a sly grin. He placed a soft kiss on your cheekbone. 

“I love you, too,” he whispered, before tenderly bringing his mouth to yours. 

Thank you for reading and for all the sweet, encouraging comments! I have struggled to write this as of late, but I'm committed to finishing this story and can't wait to share the rest of it with you. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

xx ghastella

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[glitterhammies]

Should i call you Joker?

FLUFF 

You and Arthur had been together for quite sometime now. You knew when he ups and you knew when he had his downs, but right now you couldn't tell what he was feeling. His Mother had died the day before, he was going to be on the Murray franklin show and in between all of this he seemed calm. Even happy. you lay on top of him your head on hist chest listening to his heartbeat "whatcha thinking about" you ask him softly. " I don't know anymore" he replied taking a long puff of his cigarette. " you know you can talk to me Arthur. please just let me know what's going on in there" pointing towards his  head. 

He was silent but not an uncomfortable silence almost like he was preparing himself for what he was about to tell you " you know I haven't been happy one moment of my entire fucking life, but right here right now I feel amazing. Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders" he was staring into your eyes. " I have you, I'm going on Murrays show I'm now free from my mother, i feel truly happy"

You smiled up at him giving him a slight kiss on the lips which he received and returned" should i start calling you joker? Or is that for only when you have your makeup on" you giggle poking him in the ribs. You knew he was changing. Not just mentally but physically as well. he was becoming more confident, talking without his usual stuttering and getting his way in most confrontations, this was his joker side taking hold. 

You sat up on his chest slowly kissing down his neck " come on baby were gonna need to get ready soon". you were going to be on the Murray franklin show and you both needed to look your best. Arthur had told you his plans for Murray, one which you agreed on. you wouldn't be on stage but you will be watching from the sides and you couldn't wait to see Joker take control of Murray and show him who's the one laughing. 

TIME SKIP 

you were sat on the floor of Arthurs room, makeup scattered all around you, putting on the last final touches of your face paint. You wanted to look the part so you opted for some black white and red face paint to match his. Looking up you saw Arthur at his vanity slowly scrunching up a photo of his mother. Arthur was leaving and Joker was taking full form you could see his confidence growing the more he added the white paint to his face. He looked at you through the mirror smiling at your reflection " come here" he whispered. You approached him putting your arms round his waist looking at both your reflections. " we look good together" you giggle into his ear admiring the clown paint you both had on. " Gotham's not going to know what hit them, well be the king and Queen" Arthur gestured opening his arms like he's welcoming a crowd into his embrace.

That's when you both heard the doorbell ring. you got up to answer it. " wait don't" he called after you. you saw him reaching into his dresser and pull out a pair of scissors, slowly concealing them in his back pocket. " Coming" he shouted looking at you, knowing everything is about to change. 

Thank you for reading my first Joker fanfiction, I know its quite short. Ill promise I will get better but I'm taking small baby steps uploading all my ideas onto here. Joker is like my number one hyper fixation character so expect a lot more stories for him. I love writing Arthur and find it so easy to do. If there is any prompts or ideas you would like to see please let me know and ill be more than happy to write them. 

until next time little Hammies*

[misfitgirlwrites]

‼️ CLOSED ‼️

It's time!! Thank you to all the likes and reblogs I still get on all my Joker things! I'm excited to add more to what I already have! If you all were here like 500 followers ago, you know the drill:

One reblog is one entry! One like is one entry! Each person can only get TWO possible entries!

There will be three winners!

First Place: A self-insert. Not just the regular reader inserts that I usually write, tell me as much about yourself as you feel comfortable giving away and I will write a story personalized just for you :)

Second Place: An imagine. Much shorter than the self-insert (my max for this will probably be around 400-500 words) and this one will also be personalized if you want!

Third Place: A set of headcanons! This one will also be personalized but much shorter

I WILL write anything NSFW (smut, violence, etc.) but if I do not feel comfortable with a request I WILL NOT write it!

As of now, I write for THESE specific Jokers:

Ledger’s Joker (The Dark Knight)

Jerome and Jeremiah Valeska (Gotham)

Arthur Fleck (Joker)

If there is a Joker you want that isn’t listed just ask me and we can talk about it :))

If you’d like a story for something other than Joker CHECK HERE to see what other fandoms I will write for!

If you happen to like the shows Helluva Boss & Hazbin Hotel, feel free to try your hand at that giveaway too! You CAN win here and there if you're lucky!

This giveaway starts today (June 24th, 2024) and ENDS on Thursday (July 4th, 2024) at 12 p.m. (EST)!

Everyone who enters will be put into a generator and that’s how I will choose the winners!

Good luck and thank you all!!!

[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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[five-miles-over]

Joaquin Phoenix Characters

Tom Hiddleston Characters

Benedict Cumberbatch Characters - Coming Soon!