#arthur fleck hurt comfort

[these-written-reveries]

Just You and Me

‣ Pairing: Arthur Fleck x GN!Reader

‣ Summary: You show up at Arthur’s door, struggling and in desperate need of him and his love. Don’t worry, Arthur will take good care of you.

‣ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

‣ Warnings: Emotional breakdown, heavy feelings (no specifics mentioned)

‣ Word Count: 1,363

‣ A/N: This fic is dedicated to @ajokeformur-ray and anyone else who is struggling and in need of a bit of Arthur lovin’. Allow yourself to be present in this moment, just you and him. Forget about the rest of the world. You can let it all go, at least for now. I hope you can find a little solace in this piece. ♡

Song of Inspiration: “Don’t Worry” by The 1975

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

Arthur Fleck/P!Joker Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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There you stood, tired and dejected, in front of apartment 8J.

You had found yourself face-to-face with this door so many times that it was practically routine at this point. Whether it be to visit Arthur during the day, or in the evening to watch Murray, to check up on him, share leftovers, or to meet up for your weekly dates. Many times, you came to give Arthur his mail that was frequently placed into your mailbox by mistake. You lived just across from Arthur, and it had become apparent that the mail person didn’t care to actually look at the proper apartment numbers when placing mail in your boxes. You didn’t mind, in fact, you looked forward to such mistakes as it always gave you yet another reason to see your lover’s sweet face again. Who could complain about that?

This time, though, was different.

You had no mail to deliver, no leftovers, no smile, or warm greeting. You could barely muster the strength to bring your trembling hand up to knock on the old paint-chipped door. You hesitated. The last thing you wanted was to burden Arthur with more heaviness and pain. If Arthur was in your head, he would be ever so quick to shut those thoughts down. You knew this, but it didn’t stop the feelings burrowed deep within your chest; the same ones that almost stopped your hand from knocking upon the steel wall separating you from him. Your heart so ached for him. You needed him.

Three feeble knocks nearly went unnoticed by Arthur’s ears. It was late and he was immersed in his own mind, a pen in his hand as he wrote down a joke he had been mentally crafting all day onto the scribbled notebook page before him. Despite this, he still managed to be pulled from his focus enough to realize someone was at the door. The thought of it being you instantly sent his heart into an eager frenzy, his body moving out of his chair and towards the door without him even commanding it to.

He always looked forward to little visits from you. Opening the door to reveal your beautiful face and warm smile was the highlight of all his days. The two of you had a running game in which you’d show up at each other’s places with the most random of reasons as to why -all of which were highly important and definitely not just excuses to see one another.

But this time was different.

The moment Arthur opened the door, he sensed the grave importance of the situation, and so quickly did his smile disappear; the eager fluttering of his heart mutating into a throbbing pain at the sight in front of him. Your hunched shoulders, head hung low, hands trembling at your sides, hair covering your face. He didn’t need to know what your face looked like to know exactly what was going on. He knew, but oh god, did it still crush his soul to pieces when you finally did bring your teary eyes up to meet his. Despite his best efforts to say anything, do anything, he was frozen. All he could do was stare with a face overflowing with concern for his love.

It was your weary, somber voice that finally kicked him into action.

“Can I come in?” You quavered, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. He could see so clearly. You needed him.

Arthur nodded quickly, stepping aside, and pulling the door open wider so you could enter. You looked so fragile, he felt scared to even touch you in fear of breaking you as he led you to the couch for you both to sit, hastily moving the blanket and TV remote to make room for you. Only when you were settled, did he allow himself to sit beside you.

He wanted so badly to wrap you up in his arms and shower you with loving words and kisses, but he found himself holding back from doing so. This was a delicate matter and the last thing he wanted was to make the wrong move. Instead, he chose to be ever so careful with each touch and word that he offered you, allowing you to guide the situation as to what you needed from him. Whatever it was, he would give it to you, without question. Anything to soothe the pain and suffering you were experiencing.

Gently embracing one of your shaking hands in both of his own, he glanced up at you, trying to meet your eyes, though they remained focused on your lap.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You can tell me,” he spoke tenderly and right away you felt the last bit of composure you had left completely collapse to dust.

Soon you were a mess of sobs and tears and between them, your words came spilling out, albeit a little hard to understand, but Arthur did his very best to listen intently to every one of them. Not once did he utter a single word himself, only nodded and gave your hand a little squeeze here and there. At one point, he placed a hand on your back and began rubbing soothing circles into it.

If it hadn’t been for the constant flow of tears blinding your vision, you would have noticed his face contort as different emotions filled his being. Jaw clenched, forehead wrinkled with tension, lips drawn down into a frown, tears pricking his eyes. At times, his tightly knitted brows would raise with concern in response to something you said. Other times, a spark of anger flashed in his eyes. He couldn’t help but find himself indignant at the circumstances that led you to this much suffering and he held an even greater resentment against anyone who hurt you. Whatever was so heavy on your soul filled Arthur with the most intense desire to strip it all away and take on the weight of it himself. And he would, in a heartbeat.

There was a brief moment of silence after you finished speaking as Arthur tried to collect his words. Finally, he let out a sigh, and shifted himself so that he was directly in front of you, knelt upon the green rug on the floor. Looking deeply into your eyes, he gently wiped a few stray tears from your face before speaking.

“I’m so sorry, honey. You know…it’s okay to feel that way. I think anyone would in your situation. If I could take it all away and make it better, I really would, baby.”

Holding your right hand in his left, he once again reached up to wipe your tears away, his right hand cradling your face as his thumb softly caressed your cheek. You let out a shaky breath as you relaxed into his touch. Arthur felt a small smile tug at his lips.

“I can’t make it all go away, but I can take care of you. Will you let me take care of you, please?”

He looked up at you with warm, loving eyes as he brought your right hand to his lips, placing the softest kiss atop it. You nodded your head, feeling a new wave of tears prick your eyes as your heart burst with love for the man who was literally on his knees for you, practically begging to take care of you, to make you feel better, to love you.

"C'mere, sweetheart," he cooed, his arms reaching out to you.

Arthur didn’t waste any more time as he wrapped you up tightly in his arms. You melted into his peaceful embrace, allowing him to move you both into a more comfortable position on the couch, where he finally indulged in showering you with kisses and loving whispers. He traced his fingers up and down your arms and spine; occasionally caressing your hair and face and banishing any tears that escaped your eyes with his lips.

“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got you. Just you and me, baby,” he murmured into your ear before pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

And for the first time since you’d knocked on the door of apartment 8J, you didn’t.

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‣If you enjoyed this fic, please like, comment, and/or reblog! Doing so not only keeps my blog alive, but also lets me know what you like and how to improve!

‣ If you’d like to join the tag list for Arthur Fleck/P!Joker, or be tagged in all of my future writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message!

[five-miles-over]

Yandere!Arthur Fleck Headcanons

TW: Stalking, intrusion/breaking in, obsessive/controlling behavior, possible violence

A/N: Thank you to the anon who requested this. I hope you like it!

Arthur Fleck is definitely a jealous, obsessive type of yandere.

Due to his job(s), Arthur wouldn't be able to keep a constant eye on each and every move of yours.

Still he would find a way to let you know that he was always watching you.

After following you to your workplace/school once, he would make a habit of leaving you small notes there. The notes would be things such as "I'm watching you <3" or "You our so pretty" or "Can't wate to marry you :) "

How did it all begin, you ask? Well, it all started when you showed up at his doorstep on a plain Thursday night. An envelope - perhaps a bill - addressed to one "Arthur Fleck" was delivered to you by accident. So, you took it to the address listed on the bill, and found yourself face-to-face with the tall, green-eyed, thin man.

You gently told him what had happened, handed him the bill, and politely bid him goodnight.

Taken aback by your willingness to do the right thing, Arthur became intrigued with you. After you left, he wanted nothing more than to see you again.

The next day, you met Arthur by accident at Pogo's, a comedy club within Gotham. Drinking a bottle of inexpensive liquor or beer, you sat at a table alone...when all of a sudden, you saw Arthur take the stage.

His jokes were...fair. You liked some of the things he said about his schooling. So out of support, you laughed along with him with the best grin that you could muster.

You thought it was just harmless encouragement. But to Arthur, that was the confirmation to solidify what he already believed: you were made for him, that you were an angel sent from heaven to bring him joy in this dreary life of his. And that he could never let you be hurt by anyone, including himself.

Much of what Arthur did was...rather tame. In addition to leaving you notes, he would surprise you while you were on the way back from work/school. He'd give you a spontaneous song-and-dance routine, something inspired from an old film or one of his jobs as Carnival.

When he had a little extra money, he would leave a cheap, small box of chocolates or candies at your workplace. Along with a crude drawing of you and him as stick figures, holding hands surrounded by hearts.

It was easier not to take it personally, even though something in your gut felt very, very wrong about Arthur. He needed help, he needed a professional intervention from a therapist far better than the shoddy ones in the city. Still, a part of you thought that maybe he was just having a little crush, and that it would pass.

But everything changed one Saturday night. It was after the famous talk show host Murray Franklin was assassinated on live television by a comedian known as the "Joker" wearing a colorful costume and clown makeup.

Coincidentally, Arthur was mysteriously gone from you life. He was nowhere near you, much to your surprise. Relieved a little, you relaxed in your apartment with your favorite comfort food and a feel-good television show.

Just then, there was a knock. A familiar voice, calling your name.

Annoyed, you opened the door with a huff. "Arthur, how the hell did you- " At your door stood the same man who killed Murray Franklin, clown makeup dripping in all of its maniacal glory.

"There's no one to stop me now, doll," the Joker sweetly spoke, entering your apartment with a confident stride. "We can finally be together."

You trembled, trying to think of an escape route, any way to get out of this situation. "Arthur, please..."

The Joker slammed your door shut, and turned the lock. "I'm not him anymore, doll. I'm your world now. And don't even bother calling the police..." He pulled out a gun from his pocket and fired two shots at the door, causing you to scream.

"Now, now..." the Joker knelt, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're mine, remember?"

[montimer]

"I'll come running to save you"

Arthur x spider-!reader

(In that universe reader is spider/man/women/other)

= means time skip

Ur clothes are not mentioned

Warning:none ig

A lot of people knew you. Since you started saving people from others. In Gotham there were a lot of crime makers. And since you got ur powers,and the police wasn't a big help, you decided to help the city.

========================

You heard laughing and yelling from the streets. So you immediately run to were the sound came from.

When you got there, a group of teenegers were beating up a man dressed as a clown. You were a bit confused,but you did what you had to do.

But when they saw you they ran away. You were relieved you didn't have to hurt those kids.

You looked down at the man.

"Hey, you good there?"

He opened his eyes, he looked hurt. "Y-yeah,thank you"

"No problem! Thats what i do"

You helped him up.

"Should i take ya home? Its easyer than walking"

"My boss would get angry if i wont show up at work. I already broke the sign.." he pointed at a broken sign. You looked back at him.

"Don't worry. You're hurt, he will understand. For now,let me take ya home" he smiled at that and nodded.

You hugged one of ur arm around him. "Hold onto me,i wont let ya fall" he akwardly hugged you.

"Ready?" "Um,i guess- whoa"

You shoot ur web at a building and fly up there. You put him down.

"I forgot, tell me where do you live?"

========================

You put him down at the doorstep.

"Well here we are. Did ya liked the flight?"

"Yeah!...i mean,it was nice. Thank you again."

"Of course. What is ur name?"

"Arthur..Arthur Fleck"

"Well then, see you around Art!"

He waved as you fly away.

'See you around' did you mean you will come back? He was so happy and exited,he has to write this down on his journal.

Bonus hc's!

Aaand yes,you did come back to meet him

Sometimes you guys are just talking while walking on the streets

You keep an eye on him. Making sure he wont get hurt again

He feels so honored, you from all of people decided to be around him

You also hear him out and comfort him

He blushes when you hug him

He asked you akwardly if you want to see him at the comedian club, and ofc you said yes. He was so happy

You randomly bring him food. And you say you will be offended if he doesn't accept it.

He's very upset if you get injuried. He want to patch you up, and if you let him,he will keep on doing it.

You will show him around the city,flying w/ ur webs. Thats the excuse. But both of you want to be close to each other. He loves to get held by you

His heart beats faster when you put an arm around his shoulder and defend him

When you laugh at his jokes,comfort him,save,love and care for him,he can't help but to fall for you

He tells his mom ab you. And if she doesn't believe it. You will come over (thats ur excuse)

Or when his mom is sleeping you come knocking at his window to let you in. He will make ya coffee or tea. And if you let him,he'll like to dance w/ you

He is also jealous, all those people try to get to you. Little does he know,you have fallen for him too ;))

Here's my idea

Should i make part 2?

[jokeringcutio]

Ok more angst 😈 Arthur and joker reacting to their injured partner ending up in the hospital. Maybe it was an unlucky car crash or maybe his enemies hurt them, up to you on how they got hurt 😈

"It happened way too fast. In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. He should have. But now, standing at the end of your bed, looking down at your pale form, he regretted that he hadn’t acted more accurately, more swiftly. That he had not been as aptly as he thought himself to be. You seemed so small and helpless beneath the white sheets, the hospital gown making your cheeks look even paler.

He grunted and tweaked the unlit cigarette from between his lips, folding his fingers around it tightly till they had formed a fist, the cigarette crushed inside. He’d get those bastards. He get them, and no revenge had ever been as sweet as this."

[ Headcanons below ]

Hi Anon, mun here, your local Jokeringcutio. This makes for so many great drabbles! I encourage any and all clown-loving readers to send me situation prompts to write a little drabble about. [ example: Arthur As Carnival arrives at the hospital to find his s/o injured. ] My hands are itching. Of course, I have a drabble in mind for Arthur needing to rescue the reader, as in one of the previous asks. But I would love to be given one of these scenarios and write a bit more about it. (Same goes for any of the filled-in headcanons ). Now without further ado:

Headcanons Joker/Arthur reacting to their s/o injured and in the hospital

Now, there are many scenarios for this:

Unlucky Car Crash:

Arthur Fleck: Let’s start nice and dramatic sweet. When it happens, there is nothing you can do to prevent it. The news reaches Arthur on the job. He has just finished performing and is in the process of taking his makeup off when he hears the devastating news. You are in critical condition, they say, and he doesn’t even take the time to wipe everything off his face. He just runs, hails a cab, and spends his last few bucks to reach you – clown paint smudged and still half on.

Seeing you in the bed is devastating to him, yet another confirmation that he isn’t allowed to have good things happen to him. He will hold your hand, and, when you regain consciousness, he will try his hardest to make you feel loved and comfortable, to make sure you know he is there for you, always. He will smile kindly at you, encouragingly, and talk in a soft and gentle voice.

He’ll bring you books, and sweets, and remains at your side up to the point where he'll fall asleep in the chair next to your bed, exhausted.

This man doesn't leave you. But the experience will not leave just you with scars. He’ll be traumatized by it for the rest of his life, always worried about losing you, always reminded of this one time. He’d stick close and try to be your guardian angel forever. And if he can’t and can’t arrange for something to put his mind at ease to ensure your safety – honestly, it’s becoming a little suffocating to always have him watch you – and something does go wrong – even if it is just a papercut to your finger – he’ll flip and blame himself. He wasn’t there to protect you. Arthur’s fragile like that, and this would be another heavy blemish upon his fragile mind.

Joker: Now, he'll cause havoc. Doesn’t matter if it is just an accident, he’ll be on it. The one initiating the accident? He’ll find that person. And you’ll find out later on that this person is dead. Probably after Joker has managed to threaten, frighten and steal money (emotional compensation etc) from them. He’s not leaving any stone unturned.

At the same time, he’ll still be doing his Arthur moves. He’ll be devastated, sit at your bedside and plot. He’ll forever be worried about losing you after the accident, holding your hands more and more often, gently rubbing his thumb in comforting circles as he holds your hand, hug you more, hold you close, try and keep you in safe locations.

And of course, he will not lose sight of you. Even if he isn’t with you, one of his men is shadowing you to make sure no harm will befall on you again.

Enemies Involved:

Arthur does not have the backbone to react properly to this threat. If someone hurts you because of him, he’ll try and tell them off, but he wouldn’t get away with it. He will not be the one ending victoriously on top. He probably will end up with a bloody broken nose and enough bruises to ensure he can’t sit and walk properly for days.

Such enemies are most likely to be youth harassing him while he is as Carnival – and you step in between to shush them.

Or perhaps Wayne’s men, because he cornered Wayne about the man actually being his father. Wayne knows this is true, and has Arthur shadowed. To intimidate him, he has his men send after you.

Arthur might not win this, might not properly take his revenge for you and punish those who hurt you – but if he gains just a little more confidence, his revenge will be all the sweeter. Seeing you in the hospital will tip him over and bring out the Joker in him. Now, the Joker, on the other hand, he will be victorious.

Joker. If his enemies aim at you it is purely by accident that they found out about you. You are supposed to be Joker’s little dirty secret. And he will be unforgiving when it happens. Especially as the attack will probably be made in front of his eyes.

As the Joker – do I really need to write this out again? – he will hunt down the culprits and make sure their deaths are slow and agonizing. Some kind of twisted torture might be applied. And as is natural for him, he will not let you know the full details about what he has done. Just tells you they have been taken care of. And if you are the curious type, you can find out on your own later what their fates have been. That is, if you want to dive back into the newspaper archives to find out about it.

He’ll send out a sign to any of his opponents that his s/o is not to be touched or toyed with. It is a clear warning. You are his. One wrong move, and they will pay with their lives.

He hurt you:

On the rare occasion that you end up in the hospital because he got too rough with you, he will be in a state of disbelief. Because, you are here, because of him?

It might have been an accident, part of a game between the two of you that went wrong? Practice with fighting or weapons that he has been teaching you how to use? Him being angry, perhaps not even at you, and you stepping in between and taking the brunt of it.

He will be repenting. He’ll sit with you in the hospital, seated next to your bed, elbows on his knees and head hanging. His hands folded in front of him like a prayer of forgiveness. He’ll whisper words, begging for your forgiveness. His makeup will be smudged by the tears spent and his eyes red because of all the crying.

He’ll be like this as well if you are in there because of having to give birth (if you are a s/o who can carry), and there have been complications, or a c-section has to be performed. Because dang, he blames himself for having you go through all of that.

And he’d be pretty much the same as in any other of these scenarios. Except there is no one but him to blame. And he’d be trying to gain your forgiveness for years to come – even if you actually told him everything was okay. AN: Hope you liked, feel free to send in scenarios for drabbles or imagines. To the anons who have sent in prompts: This is a busy week, but I will be on them. I have a few for Mr. Gold and for Arthur Fleck/Joker, and a personal prompt or two about Arthur Harrow for @nicktremblaywayfu and one for Albert Shaw especially for @myers-meadow. Now I just need the time to write them all. Have you seen my recent Captain Hook x Reader HC? I am over the moon someone suggested it <3

[the-marshals-wife]

Imagines Masterlist

Updated 6/30/2024 | Requests are currently ⋆OPEN⋆ | New! Adding fics on A03 🤍

I write exclusively x Fem!Reader

Most of my writing is fluff and hurt+comfort, both romantic and platonic. Willing to indulge in angst™ if the muse descends

All of my writing is rated General Audiences unless otherwise stated with specific content warnings detailed on each

For R-rated fandoms like John Wick or Joker, I still rate my writing non-explicit because the audience hopefully knows what they're in for based on the source content. I.E. blood and violence may be mentioned, but not graphically described unless otherwise stated

I do not write smut or NSFW content

Star Wars

The Bad Batch

The Bad Batch Having a Token of Their Love For You Would Include (Bad Batch x Reader)

Having A Child With Wrecker Would Include (Wrecker x Reader)

Having A Child With Tech Would Include (Tech x Reader)

Shot Through The Heart (Crosshair x Reader)

Fidelity (Crosshair x Reader)

Keep Me Close (Tech x Reader)

Watch Your Step (Hunter x Reader) [Request]

Good Medicine (Wrecker x Reader) [Request]

The Clone Wars

Having A Child With Hardcase Would Include (Hardcase x Reader) [Request]

Not Alone (Captain Rex x Reader)

More

Revenant (Baylan Skoll x Reader)

Nothing Else Matters (Melshi x Reader)

Token (Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x Reader)

What Comes After (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Kindred Spirits (F |Star Wars Visions| x Reader [Platonic]) [Request]

Imagine Being Collected By The Mandalorian (x Reader Prompt)

John Wick

Angel Shot (John Wick x Reader)

Pariah (John Wick x Reader)

Safe and Sound (John Wick x Reader) [Request]

Ryan Gosling Characters

Cinnamon Sugar (Colt Seavers x Reader) - The Fall Guy

Refuge (Sierra Six x Reader) - The Gray Man

Broke the Mold (Ken x Reader) - Barbie

Aquaman

Strangers Like Me (Orm Marius x Reader)

New Horizons (Arthur Curry x Reader) [Request]

Marvel

Scars (Yong-Rogg x Reader)

Sunrise (Yong-Rogg x Reader) [Request]

Better Half (Matt Murdock/Daredevil x Reader) [Request]

Spellbound (Mysterio/Quentin Beck x Reader)

Joker (2019)

Sticks and Stones (Arthur Fleck x Reader) [Pt 1]

Sticks and Stones (Arthur Fleck x Reader) [Pt 2]

Sticks and Stones (Arthur Fleck x Reader) [Pt 3]

Lost and Found (Arthur Fleck x Reader) [Request]

Misc.

Restless (Raylan Givens x Reader) - Justified

Shelter (Balthazar Blake x Reader) - The Sorcerer's Apprentice

[slashyourheart]

a writing blog by noire 🖤 guidelines + characters i write for under the cut.

any pronouns + 18 + matchups & requests open.

🦷 HORROR CHARACTERS ー

i'm just getting into the horror scene, so this list will be added to the more i watch and play.

MOVIES & TV

kurt kunkle (spree)

amanda young (saw)

lawrence gordon (saw)

adam faulkner-stanheight (saw)

patrick bateman (american psycho)

billy loomis (scream)

stu macher (scream)

pennywise (IT movies)

losers club members grown up (IT movies)

steve harrington (stranger things)

eddie munson (stranger things)

jonathan byers (stranger things)

robin buckley (stranger things)

jim hopper (stranger things)

joyce byers (stranger things)

001 (stranger things)

ellen ripley (alien)

VIDEO GAMES

ethan winters (resident evil)

leon kennedy (resident evil)

claire redfield (resident evil)

any of the dimitrescus (resident evil)

karl heisenberg (resident evil)

harry mason (silent hill)

james sunderland (silent hill)

lisa garland (silent hill)

pyramid head (silent hill)

ji-woon hak (dead by daylight)

jake park (dead by daylight)

danny johnson (dead by daylight)

🦷 NOT HORROR BUT I STILL WRITE FOR THEM ー

anakin skywalker (star wars)

the riddler (batman 2022)

bruce wayne (batman 2022)

arthur fleck (joker 2019)

peter parker (the amazing spider-man)

harry osborn (the amazing spider-man)

sephiroth (final fantasy 7)

cloud strife (final fantasy 7)

tifa lockhart (final fantasy 7)

zack fair (final fantasy 7)

aerith gainsborough (final fantasy 7)

arthur morgan (red dead redemption 2)

kieran duffy (red dead redemption 2)

sadie adler (red dead redemption 2)

707 (mystic messenger)

🦷 REQUESTS ー

⚰️ please don't request more than 5 characters in one ask.

⚰️ when requesting multiple characters they can be from different medias, like resident evil mixed with stranger things.

⚰️ try to keep it the same theme, so like cuddling with x and y. not cuddling with x and dates with y.

🦷 MATCHUPS ー

⚰️ for those who don't know, a matchup is sending an ask with some info about yourself and i'll match you with a character who i think you're compatible with. anyone can send one!

⚰️ include your sexuality and fandoms you want so i know which characters to match you with! an age is appreciated too, so minors and adults can be matched with characters their age. i match with characters outside of my writing list too.

⚰️ you can put your hobbies, personality traits, and characters you DON'T want so i don't accidentally put you with someone you hate. don't put your crush though - i wanna give you an unbiased match.

🦷 WHAT I'LL WRITE ー

⚰️ character x reader fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut

⚰️ aus, can be soulmate aus or fix its or whatever

⚰️ lgbt content (though i'm not limited to just lgbt stuff to be crystal clear)

⚰️ poly relationships

⚰️ for kinks i'm open to almost anything as long as it's not in the don'ts section.

🦷 WHAT I WON'T WRITE ー

⚰️ nonconsensual smut, unsanitary smut (like pee kinks), ddlg, ageplay, raceplay

⚰️ characterxcharacter (unless, for example, it's something like steddie x reader)

⚰️ romance between family members or kids and adults, or a teacher with a student

⚰️ abuse/cheating portrayed positively (i can absolutely write recovering from a relationship like that). i likely won't write about a reader who harms themselves at all

happy requesting!

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Little Brother

by MadridSoto84 Ambos están solos, a ambos les quitaron lo más importante que tenían y les dejaron a un lado, tal vez no es la mejor compañía pero es lo único que tienen. Words: 1325, Chapters: 1/?, Language: Español Fandoms: Joker (2019) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: Gen Characters: Arthur Fleck, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Clark Kent, Martha Kent Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Brotherly Bonding, No Sex, No Romance, No Incest, Brotherly Affection via https://ift.tt/64GMCZB

[pennywisesbarbie]

A/N: For those of you who wanted fluff or hurt/comfort

This blog moved to @little-lily-w​

-Sweetheart, I´m home – Arthur´s voice resounds when the door is closed – Sweetheart? – he calls again taking off his clown shoes, enjoying the comfort of giving barefoot steps – Darling? – he asks walking to the bedroom but the fact that you are not there alarms him – Y/N, where are you? – once he checks you are not in the bathroom, he runs to the kitchen to see if you’ve left a note by the fridge but there´s none – Darling?! – he is about to open the front door to exit the apartment and search for you but within the silence of the place, he is able to hear soft muffled sobs coming from the kitchen – Y/N, where are you? – it´s quite strange because he can sense your cry but he can´t locate you until he discovers the drawers from the fridge under the table – Oh, god, no… - he opens the refrigerator with an energetic pull to the handle but his energy settles down as soon as he has your sobbing being before him – No, my darling, why did you do this? Come here – he grabs you by the waist but since your joints are so cold, you can´t move your arms properly to hold onto him so he manipulates your body with a big effort to finally get you out, kicking the door close with the heel.

You try to say something to him but it just results in pitiful babbles.

-          You are frozen, my baby. Let´s get you warm first, yeah? – he carries you to the bathroom, his skinny arms grabbing you like you are his most dearest treasure, and once you are inside the old bathtub, a warm water jet starts filling it, reaching your toes first and ascending towards your now bare torso – We are lucky we have hot water now, aren´t we? – he asks like a way to get your sad empty eyes to fix on him once he sees you are able to move your body again. But he is not successful so he sits on the edge of the bathtub to tilt your chin up, moving the hair out of your shameful face.

-          I’m sorry – you whimper – You told me you did that once and I was just so tired of feeling depressed in bed – a smooch to your forehead responds your cry and reassures you his love.

-          I know it´s hard for you.

-          Oh yeah? How hard is it for me? How hard could be it when you are the one risking your life out there for some miserable coins and I’m this attempt of girlfriend for you who instead of receive you with a happy face, she is crying against a pillow?

-          Don´t ever say that, you hear me? I don´t want to ever ever hear you forcing yourself to put on happy face for somebody else. Never. You have the right to feel whatever the fuck it´s going through you.

-          But you…

-          Don´t worry about me, my sweet girl. I feel lucky for the simple fact of having you in my life, you know that, don´t you? – he asks looking into your gaze and you understand there is not a single ounce of joke about what he is saying.

-          Yes – pause – I love you – you whisper.

-          What? What was that? – Arthur smiles using his fingers to splash the water from the bath on your face.

-          Stop it! – you laugh trying to cover yourself with your hands.

-          I can´t hear you, what was that? – he insists, making a mess on the wall.

-          I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU! – You exclaim and giggle.

He stops to cup firmly your cheeks.

-And I love you too, my sweet girl – Arthur replies and goes for your mouth to devour it.  

Tags:  @she-he-or-it​ @itsforyoubitch​ @pennyship​ @hxneyboy​ @insomniabird​ @sebastianshoe​ @ladylovelyluna

Gif belongs to joaquin-phoenixs 

This blog moved to @little-lily-w​

[harleenfleck]

“Alex Day” (Chapter 2)

Arthur Fleck x Original Character (OC)

Summary: Arthur Fleck is a young man who hates his life despite his young age: School is hell, his mother wants to control every aspect of his life, and has a strange condition that is difficult to explain to others, a condition which has caused him all those laughs and blows against him. But one day her luck changes when she meets the new girl in sky-blue shoes on the first day of school. A girl from California.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Bullying, Friendship/Love, Sadness

Chapter 1

AO3 (full work)

Notes:  I am very sorry if I have grammatical or spelling errors, English is not my mother tongue!

Enjoy it!

...

Chapter 2: Sky blue shoes

Arthur didn't know what to think, he was just trying to keep quiet, but that was impossible, after being a little surprised.

Those were definitely women's shoes; would a girl go into the men's room? Or did he, in desperation, enter the women's bathroom and hadn't noticed? If it was the second thing, he was screwed, another reason to be harassed on his first day. He decided to keep quiet and pretend he wasn't there.

He heard how that girl used the sink; maybe she would just wash her hands and leave the place. However, he noticed that the sky-blue shoes were now standing in front of the cubicle where he was.

“Hello?”

The female voice spoke to him. Arthur trembled with fear, what could he say? He covered his mouth with his hand again.

“Huh… I know this would sound weird, but I heard you crying. I know this doesn't concern me, but are you okay? Is there anything I can help you with?”

He fell silent after hearing that, was someone worrying about him? It must have been just courtesy, but very few had ever treated him like this before. Besides, a girl treating him like that didn't usually happen to him. He vacillated a lot, but Arthur wiped his tears with the sleeve of his sweater, grabbed his backpack from the floor, and left the cubicle.

“Holy s…!” The girl screamed when she saw him, "I thought was the woman’s bathroom! I’m so sorry!"

Arthur blinked; she was confused too. Wow, at least he wasn't the only one.

"I-I thought it was the m-men's bathroom. I-I don't really know who this bathroom belongs" The girl suddenly laughed lightly. And her smile remained on her face. Arthur just moved his lips, too shy to smile at her.

"Well, we'll know when we get out of here ... But first, are you okay?" Arthur didn't know what to answer at the time. For a moment, he had felt strange since no one before other than his mother had cared about him. But what could he say to that girl? He was just having a normal day?

“I j-just had problems, that's all” He took a deep breath, making all traces of crying disappear little by little, using the sleeve of his sweater again to wipe his face.

"I’m sorry to hear that I hope those are resolved soon."

Arthur felt so good that someone cared for him, even if he was a total stranger, as she was. His pessimistic mind told him that soon she would leave the bathroom and forget about him. That would probably happen. "By the way, my name is Alexandra, Alexandra Grant, but you can call me Alex."

The girl stretches her hand towards him; Arthur quickly examined that gesture. Was someone introducing himself to him? He must be going crazy.

"Arthur, Arthur Fleck."

After shaking hands, the bell rang; they two walked out of the bathroom, not checking whether the bathroom was for men or women.

…

The two were walking together; it was a very curious thing to see, as they looked completely different between themselves. The girl radiated a lot of energy and happiness, and the boy, well, just didn't have the same shine.

"I haven't seen you before," Arthur said it curious because it was true, he hadn't seen that girl before at his school.

"Do you look at people if they are there or not?" The girl asked him in a tone of voice that intimidated Arthur for a moment.

"N-no, I mean-”

"I’m just kidding” She started to laugh again, and Arthur laughed too, removing the feeling of ruining everything again. “I'm not from here. My family and I moved here this summer."

“Really? Where are you from?”

“California. I’m from California.”

“California…” Arthur's eyebrows rose, and a shy smile came out of his mouth. He had listened before California and even came to think that maybe if he had a little luck when he was older, he might one day go to know the place. He really wants to know the sea, feel the sand on his feet and hear the waves “…It must be a beautiful place.”

“It is, but Gotham it has its charm, I really love places like New York or Chicago, or Gotham. I never thought I'd live in a place like this before…”

Alex was non-stop talking, she was talking about cities; when she did, Arthur decided to study her: she wore a dress the same color as her shoes, a blue bow in her hair, her bag was brown, she wore a little makeup in her face, and he was a bit mesmerized by her lips as she continued talking.

Arthur immediately stopped those thoughts. He couldn't do that. He couldn't fall in love with the first person who treated him well, besides, people used to disguise their real intentions well. He scolded himself, how could he think of Alex like that? He was the first person to treat him well that day. She couldn't be like the others; she must have a pure soul.

“…And that’s why we moved here. My dad’s job. I’ll miss California, but I wanna know of this city”

“Well, Gotham it's a little dangerous, but nothing you can't handle”

“It's what all my friends from California said” Arthur and Alex walked in one of the corridors at their own step, they hadn't even realized that were already late for class “So, Arthur, you always lived here?"

"Yes, since I was born"

“That sounds great. It must be great, always living in one place, always keeping your friends”

Arthur lowered his gaze some embarrassed; he didn't realize that Alex was meeting him as if he were just a normal boy. He wasn't a normal boy, but he didn't want to tell her about him, he didn't want to tell her that he didn't have any friends. He didn't want her to think he was a freak.

“I guess”

"Well, it's always good to meet more people, it's good that you're the first one I meet from Gotham"

Arthur at this moment was speechless, turned to Alex shyly, who kept a smile on her face, was she really grateful to meet him?

"Do you really think that?"

"Of course! You could show me the school later, I'm afraid to do it on my own and lose myself"

Arthur smiled and felt his red cheeks, how could someone like Alex overflow so much joy? Of course, he was going to help her with all the doubts she had from school.

But suddenly, the shadow attacked him again. He looked around, the bell had already rung and everyone had all already entered class, the two of them were the only ones in the corridor. If nothing bad had happened, it's because no one had seen them together. He didn't even have 15 minutes of meeting Alex and he was afraid the others would mess with her, just because she'd been by his side.

"Yeah, I'll show you the school at lunch"

"Oh! That’s great! Thank you, Arthur! Well, I think I should go to class…” Arthur quickly thought that was his chance, the two of them would go to their respective classes and he would disappear, despite the fact he promised to help her. He thought of hiding from Alex in all that remained of the day, a strange way to protect her. “…I have to go to room E-11"

And Arthur's plans were completely ruined.

"…Oh, that's mine too"

"Really?! That means we are meant to be friends!" Alex almost yelled excitedly, and Arthur could not believe what she said.

“M-meant to be friends? Y-You wanna be my friend?”

“Yeah! Why not?”

Arthur's smile was big.

He couldn't, he couldn't let that go. He couldn't miss the chance to have a friend, a real friend.

Both reached to room E-11, opened the door, realizing that classes had already started.

Alex went in first and Arthur followed her, the gazes on them were almost immediately. Alex walked to the teacher and showed her a card. The teacher looked at the card and went to the classroom.

"Class, we have a new classmate, this is Alexandra Grant, she comes from California. So, I like to inform you miss Grant and you too young Fleck what rule did not follow today: When the ring bells you must be in your classroom before the teacher start the class”.

Arthur was a bit used to that, but felt sorry for Alex, as they were giving her a terrible first impression.

“Welcome to Gotham miss Grant, sit down right now”

“Sorry Ms. Joy” Arthur whispered and Alex did the same, knowing that teacher's last name. Quickly Arthur went to take a seat, and Alex followed behind him, taking a seat next to him.

It was a history class. While Mrs. Joy spoke aloud about the Independence of the country, Arthur turned his gaze to Alex, she looked very nervous and scared by what happened. It wasn't fair, she was new there, she didn't deserve such a treatment.

Speedily, he took a sheet from his notebook and tore it up, into a small piece of sheet, he began to write something. When the teacher turned the blackboard, Arthur passed the note to Alex. She immediately saw it, took the note, and read it.

“I'm sorry I made you late for class, you didn't have to get a scold from the teacher”

Alex smiled and turned to Arthur, giving him her smile. She immediately took out another small sheet and began to write. The teacher was still talking about the Fathers of the Nation when Alex passed the note to Arthur.

“Don't feel bad please, it's not your fault. The teacher doesn't seem to get much love from her husband”

Arthur read the note and felt the need to laugh, put his hand in his mouth. But it wasn't his condition, it was a real laugh. Some classmates turned to Arthur, giving him an unpleasant look. Alex realized that, and Arthur calmed down. If they knew that he wanted to laugh for real.

“No, it doesn't seem like, I hadn't thought of that before”

Alex laughed slightly again. They decided to leave that little game for that moment, they didn't want to be caught by Mrs. Joy.

The History class hour passed very quickly, the bell ringed again, Mrs. Joy left homework and finally left the place. At that moment, the whole classroom turned to the new girl.

“So, what was your name?” Alex, naturally kind, began to answer any doubts they had about her.

“Alexandra, Alexandra Grant, but you can call me Alex”

“Alex, that's a good name, it's very nice"

Alex thanked her for the gesture while other classmates approached her. The whole class wanted to meet the new girl from California. At that moment, Arthur felt displaced by everyone, but that was normal again, he just turned his head to the window.

He couldn't feel jealous, he barely met Alex that morning, of course, the others were going to be interested in her. Some even said something like "Come here, better sit next to me" and honestly, Arthur waited for the moment she would get up and leave him alone.

“No, thank you, I’m fine here”

“Are you sure? But you are next to... Fleck”

Arthur tried not to move, not turn towards others, because he knew he was going to have unfriendly looks on his head. And he didn't want to scare Alex with his laughter.

"I am fine here, thank you again"

"Alex..." At that moment, they began to speak to Alex soundlessly, as if Arthur did not listen to them, of course, he could still hear them "…But he is... Weird, I don't think you want to hang out with him, he is too strange, he's... Well, a freak"

“What? Why you say that?”

“Good morning class!” The math teacher interrupted the conversation, starting a new class. The next hours, Alex was trying to look to Arthur, but he didn't look like the Arthur she'd met in the restroom. She looked at him more self-conscious, uncomfortable and it looked like he didn't want to make eye contact with her. Alex wondered if he had bothered with her, she didn't know why and hoped he wouldn't.

Arthur however, was struggling with himself, it was shown to her that he was not well received at school, actually, they warned him, and in a good way. He was hoping with that, Alex would decide to leave him alone. She didn't deserve the same harassment he received.

But at the same time, Arthur was very hurt a lot to lose a girl who really wanted to be his friend.

The bell rang. It was lunchtime.

Alex took his pen and notebook, but as she turned to Arthur, Arthur had taken his things as quickly as possible, put them in his backpack, and left the classroom.

Alex didn't understand what was going on with Arthur.

...

He wasn't in the cafeteria; she'd probably be there looking for him.

Arthur was in a secret place at school, at least for him, in a place where no one could find him. A place where he used to hide when the idiots of his classmates wanted to vent and have fun with him.

Tears fell from his face. He didn't want to cry anymore. He once listened to his mother when he was 10 and fell by accident and hurt his knee. He couldn't stop crying until his mother scolds him with a "Big Boys Don't Cry."

Arthur didn't understand, he was almost going to become an adult, a man, and he was still crying. The worst thing for him is he thought he was crying about something silly. He was crying because everyone pointed him as a freak in front of Alex, they told her he wasn't normal. And when someone found Arthur wasn't normal, he was rejected.

Abruptly, the laugh came out of his throat, and that's when he hated himself. He couldn't believe how weak he could become. He lasted a short time laughing, he was able to control it, but he was sick of laughing and crying. He has wiped the tears off his face once more, took his backpack, and started looking for a way to get some food. He was out of school, in a little alley, with some garbage.

…

Alex kept looking for Arthur in the school, she thought maybe he'd be in the cafeteria. Besides, she was already hungry.

The cafeteria was full. Alex stopped with the points of his blue shoes, looking for the boy she met that morning. However, there was no sign of him.

“Hey Alex, will you sit with us?”

She heard a group of her classmates talk to her. Alex didn't know if it was a good idea, as they were the same ones who said weird things about Arthur. She approached them with her lunch.

But, the conversation between the three boys and the two girls who invited Alex became a little uncomfortable for her.

“…California, I see, where exactly are you from?"

"From Venice, I-"

"Really?! From L.A.?! How you can leave a paradise and decided to move to the worst place in the world?!"

Alex didn't understand the girls' overreaction.

“Eh? I-It was for my dad’s job, he-”

“Your dad’s job?! He’s working in a movie or something?!”

“No… He works in the press, he’s gonna-”

“In the press? He’s an important journalist?

“Well, he's starting, but-”

Every moment she tried to explain, she was interrupted, it was like they were trying to find something important about her, but she was getting tired of the situation.

To her luck, she observed how far the cafeteria door opened: Arthur was coming in. Alex smiled, finally someone who wasn't a fool.

But, despite Alex's happiness, Arthur looked around, it seemed that no one had noticed him, but suddenly:

"Hey Fleck!"

Those idiots again. Arthur didn't want to be humiliated in front of everyone like in the morning, so he rapidly left the cafeteria, almost running.

"I'm so sorry" Alex suddenly took his lunch, apologizing to the boys and girls, "I have to go, but I'd love to eat with you tomorrow. I'll see you” Alex quickly got up from his seat and ran to the door, even arrived before the boys who intended to annoy Arthur. And they noticed Alex.

"Hey, did you see that girl?"

"Yes, I think she's the new girl"

"Oh... I would love to meet her and... You know..."

And those three guys laughed like idiots

…

Arthur wasn't even trying to look back, just think about running away to safety. He heard footsteps behind him. Fuck, please not here, not here.

"Hey boy!"

A voice alerted him, but seeing who he was, he calmed down.

"Alex..." He stopped not only for her, he realized that only Alex was following him “What are you doing here?”

"I've been looking for you in almost all school, where were you?"

"I… I was just… Nothing important"

Alex again observed Arthur's red nose and his attempt not to be weak in front of her.

"Arthur, are you okay?

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, just... I just wanted to breathe air. That’s all"

"Oh… Okay, well, it's just that when the bell rang, I wanted to talk to you, but you left too fast. You promised me you were going to show me school."

Shit, that promise. He wasn't supposed to promise things like that so fast.

"Hey... Alex, I-I don't think that's was a good idea"

"Why not?" Alex asked something confused, Arthur wasn't ready to take her away from him.

"... I-I don't think it's a good idea to be seen together"

Alex felt his chest sink when he heard that.

"What? Why do you say that?" Arthur didn't know what to tell her, he owed her an explanation, of course, but what could he tell her?

“They told you, I'm a freak. Freaks like me don't do very well in life”

“But I don’t understand, why they… they said you’re a freak? That’s stupid, you’re so kindness and gentleness”

Arthur felt under pressure, why did she start asking him that? Did he have to explain to Alex about his condition? No, he didn't have to, because he was about to show it to her.

“They told you Alex, and I-”

And the laugh started.

Arthur took his hand to his mouth and walked away from Alex, trying to control himself, but that wasn't so easy, he just wanted to stop laughing. He appreciated that they were both alone, but he couldn't help be embarrassed. His face turned red, and his breathing difficult to control.

Alex didn't know what to react to, tried to laugh with him, even she couldn't find the funny thing, and it wasn't until Arthur started looking in his pockets for a little card who he wrote himself.

Alex took the card and started reading it. And she knew why Arthur tried to ignore her the rest of the day, and why he disappeared before she could talk to him. Arthur just wanted to disappear. And in that instant, he felted a hand on his shoulder, and as that hand suddenly wrapped him in a hug.

Arthur hadn't felt a hug in a long time.

[fanficsandfluff]

Emotions Get the Better (2)

Mentions of violence and blood, but nothing too graphic. Enjoy!

Part 1

~~~~

You were able to sleep in the next day because your shift started in the late afternoon. So you threw yourself out of bed and made yourself a midday breakfast and a midday pot of coffee. 

You couldn’t get the idea out of your head that you wanted to tell a joke to the clown on the street. So as your coffee was brewing, as you brushed your teeth by the sink, and as you washed all of yesterday’s grime off in the shower, you kept trying to figure out a joke that the clown--- Arthur, his name was Arthur, wasn’t it? --- that Arthur would enjoy. But man, it was hard to come up with original jokes.

When you finally thought of one that made you smile, you locked it into memory and headed out of your apartment. 

The train was packed for that time of day, filled with students and employees who just got out of school and work for the day. You were about to turn the corner where you’d normally see the clown across the street. But when you got to that point, no speck of green clown hair could be seen. You stood on the curb and watched as masses of Gothamites sped up and down the busy street, but there was no sign-twirler. 

“Hm,” you let out a curious breath. Maybe it was his day off. So, you continued your walk to the theater.

All of a sudden, a group of teenagers burst out of an alleyway you were just passing and one of them literally almost pushed you to the ground with how fast he was running. 

“Hey!” you shouted, annoyed that you got shoved anyway. You watched those teens continue running down the street, and you realized they were the same group from last night on the train.

“Dicks,” you muttered under your breath and you glanced down the alley they had just came from.

Your eyes went wide and you sprinted down to the middle of the alleyway between two Gotham skyscrapers, “Shit shit--- a-are you okay?”

The clown was laying on his side on the ground, breathing heavy, ragged breaths. He started when he heard your voice and turned his head. 

“Seriously, are you okay? What the fuck did they do to you?” you kept asking, kneeling by the clown’s side. You can see his nose was bloodied, but that was the only visible injury at the moment. The clown looked like he was about to speak but whimpered and squeezed his arm around his midsection instead, still trying to catch his breath and center himself.

“Arthur,” you said gently, “What can I do?”

Again, no answer. 

“Let me take you to the hospital, please, I can’t---”

“No,” he finally croaked.

“What, why?”

“I-I....” Arthur sighed and rolled onto his back, “I’m be fine. I’m fine...” he stared up at you, his eyes seemingly coming into focus, “I remember you.”

You stared at him incredulously, sure he had something broken around his middle and his nose still looked like it was smashed. You almost wanted to laugh. I remember you. You just got fucked up by those goddamn teens and... No hospital? Well, shit, you weren’t a nurse so you couldn’t help him. 

“What did they do to you?”

Arthur’s face grew sad, and it looked so warped in his cheery clown makeup. 

“Just some kids, I-I shouldn’t have--”

“Those ones from the train, right? I saw them. They jumped you?” you just now realized your hand was placed on his shoulder this whole time. 

Arthur nodded and he tried sitting up but stifled a groan.

“Please let me take you to the hospital. You could have broken bones! And your nose is all--”

“No, I can’t afford it,” Arthur finally said, broken, sad, ashamed. 

You frowned. This poor, poor guy. You checked the time on your watch. You’d be late in the next ten minutes. 

“I can take you home?” you offered. 

Arthur looked at you with that same puppy-ish expression as he did last night on the train after you’d shoo’d those goons away. 

You sighed, started to get irritated by his nonchalant attitude, “Well, I’m not leaving you here. Come on,” you stood and hooked your arm under Arthur’s. You helped him gingerly stand. 

As you emerged out of the alleyway with Arthur limping by your side, you didn’t even feel a little self-conscious about the fact that here you were, in the middle of Gotham City, with a bruised and bloodied clown hanging off your arm. 

“Do you have a lot of ice at home? I think ice would help with bruises and soreness,” you offered as you approached the train station together. He forced himself to be free from your supportive hold on his arm when you reached the stairs. 

“I have ice,” he responded. He walked on his own and got on the train with you. 

Someone saw Arthur’s face and immediately stood up from their seat on the train. You wanted to think they were doing it out of pity for his still bloody face. But you knew they were just scared. 

You let him have the seat and you stood in front of him, hanging onto the railing above you. 

“We need to stop meeting like this,” you said.

“What?” Arthur looked up at you, genuine concern and confusion written on his face.

Then you smirked, “With me coming to your rescue... and with you dressed as a clown.”

Arthur huffed, and you were worried for a split second you offended him, but he was smiling, and that huff was a small laugh. He squeezed his arm around his midsection tighter after that, the laugh clearly causing him some pain. You frowned again. You should’ve forced him to go to a hospital anyway. Even some shady one down the next Gotham alley or some shit. He could have internal bleeding for all you knew.

“My clown name is Carnival,” he said, still an innocent smile upon his lips.

“Carnival,” you repeated, knocked out of your worrisome thoughts, “That’s a good name. Like that song.”

It was clear he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“My Name is Carnival. It’s a song. Can’t remember the singer, but you should give it a listen.”

Arthur nodded, “Yeah. I will,” he said easily. 

You looked at each other in silence for a bit more. You wondered why he wouldn’t rip off that wig and that false red nose. Relieve himself of the costume, of the act and just be able to feel the pain he was surely experiencing. You thought of yanking the red nose from his face, or yanking it and watching it snap back into his real nose. That would’ve made him laugh, you were sure of it. 

“I’m sorry those kids beat you up, Arthur,” you said, genuinely, “I feel like it’s my fault, like because I was there to stop them the first time they just took it out on you today and--”

“No! No no no,” Arthur kept saying, “Nothing’s anyone’s fault anymore. This city’s just getting crazier. You stopping them the other night was one of the few miracles I’d seen in Gotham. You’re a very kind person.”

You could imagine him reaching out and holding your hand in thanks and solidarity. But that didn’t happen. You balled your hand into a fist in your jacket pocket. 

“Thank you,” you took the compliment, “I just don’t see the need of being a dick to someone all the time. Life’s already a fucking joke, right? Might as well try to live it with a sense of decency.”

“This is my stop,” Arthur said, but his eyes were almost shining, like the last night on the train. He stood up and you walked out with him. It was sunset now and the lights bounced off the slick city streets and glass windows on buildings, making it all somehow look nice. 

“Hey, there’s a pharmacy right there. You want me to go in and get you supplies for your face or your ribs or--”

“No. I told you I have ice at home.”

You looked at him, hoping he’d just agree with you after all. But he didn’t and he kept walking. It was at this point when he took his wig off and held it in his hand limply. Next came the red nose, now gripped in the palm of his other hand. You jogged to catch up with him. 

You turned a few corners with him until he started toward the biggest staircase you’d ever seen. He climbed the first step and you thought, ‘Oh fuck that...’

“Wait, there’s no other way to get to your home?”

“This is the fastest.”

And he started climbing the stairs. You watched him go up the first six steps and you didn’t even move. He looked hurt, it was obvious. But there was something in how he was tackling this surely painful challenge of mounting the stairs with an air of someone who was beyond physical pain. There was a tiredness and a weakness that loomed in his posture, in each sure step he took from one stair to the next. But the climb was a familiar one to him. It was clear he had done this most of his life. As you followed behind him and when you were getting winded, you didn’t hear a peep out of him. Not an out-of-breath sigh or a grimace of pain. 

Arthur reached the top first, and you still had another flight to go. He smiled at you, clearly with an air of making fun of you, but not in a mean way. 

“Any day now,” he said, a certain bounce in his voice.

You huffed a small laugh and jogged the last few steps to reach the top, “Jehesus Christ.... I wanna fucking die....”

Arthur smiled more at you and he waited for you to catch your breath before continuing his walk..... which was up another hill. No wonder this guy was skinny as a twig.

You felt the air was getting less tight, and you couldn’t explain it. But things all around felt like they were getting better. You almost forgot that Arthur had dried blood caked under his nose, mixing with his makeup. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” you exclaimed, making Arthur jump at your sudden volume, “I was coming up with something to tell you all morning.”

Arthur had no clue what that something could be, so he simply said, “What?”

“Why can’t your nose be 12 inches long?” 

There was a silence as the two of you kept walking. Arthur caught on immediately and he smiled, trying to think of the punchline, “Uhhhh...”

But you came right in with it, unable to contain yourself anymore, “Cuz then it’d be a foot,” and you belted out a laugh. 

Arthur was amused, and he let out a titter of a giggle, most of his laughter coming out as breathy. He watched you with what could have been perceived as adoration in his eyes.

“That was very good,” he chuckled. 

“I cahame up with it today,” you were still giggling and wiped a tear of laughter from your eye, “I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“I did. Very much so,” Arthur said and he stopped walking. You paused, as well. You two were in front of a rundown looking apartment building. Then again, how many buildings in the city weren’t rundown? 

“Please take care of yourself, Arthur,” you said to him, still showing him a friendly smile. 

“I will.”

There was an awkward silence.

“I don’t know what to say,” Arthur suddenly became shy again (well, shier than he normally was thus far today), “How can I repay you for---”

You quickly interrupted him before he started to feel like he owed you just for being a decent fucking human being, “You can have my joke and use it in your acts. Free of charge, no credit due. And next time I see you, you’re gonna have to share one of your jokes with me. Then we’ll call it even. Deal?” you smiled again, trying to catch his eye so you knew he understood.

Arthur smiled back at you, “Deal.”

“Well, goodnight, Arthur,” you said, realizing it was now dark out. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Arthur said in response, and he watched you walk down the next block before he turned and entered his apartment. He was smiling the whole way up to his apartment, even prompting his mother to ask, “What’s got you so giddy?” So, he told her the joke you shared with him. She rolled her eyes, corners of her lips turned down. Arthur went to wash off his makeup for the night, and he started cackling when he looked at himself in the mirror, a wet mix of blood, multicolored paint, and his gaunt skin color dripping down his chest, over his cuts and bruises. He laughed until he nearly choked on it.

[these-written-reveries]

✧REQUEST INFO✧

ABOUT THE REQUESTS:

Status: Open

➺You can send your request here (please read below if you haven’t already!)

➺It may take me a while to fulfill them and I may not fulfill them in order. I will not give any time frames as to when I will get around to fulfilling requests, as I am disabled and work 2 jobs which takes up a lot of my time. I promise I will do my best to get to them asap!

➺Please refrain from sending the same request multiple times. If you’re unsure if I received your request, send me a separate ask or message and I'll let you know.

➺Anons sending me spicy requests, you're agreeing and confirming that you're 18+. Users below the age of 18 are not permitted to send such requests and will be blocked.

➺To make things more inclusive, I prefer to keep Reader/Y/N’s gender and pronouns neutral, unless important to the story being told. (Note: I do not write male!reader/amab/reader with male anatomy simply because I’m not comfortable/confident writing that.)

➺Just because a specific character isn’t listed below, doesn’t mean I’m not open to writing about them. Ask anyway!

➺If you’re unsure about something pertaining to an idea/request you have, feel free to shoot me a message/ask about it. I’ll be happy to answer any questions you may have.

➺I may or may not fulfill your request. I apologize in advance for this. This could be due to a whole list of reasons -such as not having inspiration, too busy with life, it’s simply not for me, etc. I promise it’s not personal!

➺I reserve the right to say no to anything, for any reason, without an explanation.

➺Please be kind and respectful!

MY WRITING PREFERENCES:

➺I LOVE writing fluff/flangst (smut can be a challenge for me, but I’m open to it. *Read below for more info on NSFW content).

➺I specialize in writing happy endings! I do not enjoy writing angsty endings AT ALL and I refuse to do it. You want hardcore angst? I’ll give it to you, but it’s coming with a happy ending. Sorry -all hurt, no comfort- lovers, you freakin’ masochists! (jk, I love you, it's just not for me ❤️)

➺I prefer to write romantic reader-insert fics because I’m a huge sap for all the lovey-dovey stuff. That said, I don’t mind writing platonic reader-inserts depending on what it’s about.

REQUEST RULES:

➺No pregnancy/childbirth/etc.

➺No dub-con/non-con/r*pe/etc.

➺No themes such as: inc*st, pedoph*lia, cheating (unless under false assumption, or in the form of a comfort fic, i.e.: Reader’s ex cheated on them and is comforted by -insert character here-).

➺No personalized name fics (reader-insert only).

➺No sad/angsty endings.

➺No permanent death of Reader and/or pairing character (temporary or assumed death for the sake of angst is okay).

*My rules around what NSFW content I’ll write are case-by-case, as well as anything with darker themes. If you have a question about if I'll write something specific or are seeking clarification about any of the info listed here, feel free to ask!

CHARACTERS I’LL WRITE FOR:

*A handful of these characters I have little to no writing experience with, but I listed them anyway to challenge myself! As with all of my writings, I will put in my very best effort to make sure they are as in-character and well-written as possible!

➺Jokers

            ♡ Arthur Fleck/Phoenix!Joker (P!Joker)

            ♡ Jack Napier/Ledger!Joker (L!Joker)

➺My Hero Academia

*I am not caught up with the show (almost through season 4), so please try to avoid requesting anything with spoilers after this point!

           Class 1-A

            ♡ Bakugou Katsuki

            ♡ Kirishima Eijirou

            ♡ Todoroki Shouto

            ♡ Midoriya Izuku

            ♡ Kaminari Denki

            ♡ Ashido Mina

            Villains

            ♡ Shigaraki Tomura

            Ships (Poly!Ship x Reader only):

            ♡ Kiribaku (Kirishima & Bakugou)

➺Stranger Things

*I will not write any romantic reader-insert fics with Billy Hargrove, Jason Carver, or the kids!

           ♡ Eddie Munson

           ♡ Robin Buckley

➺Supernatural

            ♡ Dean Winchester

            ♡ Sam Winchester

            ♡ Castiel

            ♡ Jack Kline

            ♡ Charlie Bradbury

➺Star Wars

           ♡ Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

REQUEST OUTLINE:

*This is a simple guideline to help get you started with your request in case you’re unsure of what to say.

➺Character:

✧Please specify which character you’d like me to write. (Check list above for which characters I write for.)

➺Premise/Prompt:

✧Include an idea or prompt of what you want me to write about. Be as specific or non-specific as you’d like. If you have a clear idea of what you want, please be as specific/detailed as possible in explaining your request so I can try to write it as close to your vision as possible.

➺Genre/Style (optional):

*If either of these are left out of your request, I will take creative liberty in deciding what it’ll be.

✧Is the story fluff, flangst (fluff + angst), smut, etc.?

✧Would you like a one shot, headcanons, drabble, etc?

➺Pronouns/Gender (optional):

*If not specified, I will most likely keep Reader/Y/N’s pronouns and gender neutral.

✧Specify the pronouns and/or gender of Reader/Y/N. Keep in mind that unless it’s important to the story/context, I prefer to keep things gender-neutral for better inclusivity! (I do not write for male!reader/reader with male anatomy -sorry!)

***

With alllll of that said, you can send your requests here!

♡ Thanks for reading and respecting my rules! ♡

[shittybundaskenyer]

✹ ▬   𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐄, 𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄

rating: Explicit

pairing: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

summary: after a hard day’s work arthur catches you finishing your last landscape painting.

warnings: swearing, hurt/comfort, a bit of angsty thoughts, FLUFF, arthur being a sweetheart, reader is pregnant and is very afraid of having a child, did i mention arthur is the sweetest man?, smut bc you know me guys

word count: 3572

a/n: this was sitting in my drafts for MONTHS, but i think i’m done sitting on it so have some sugar-overdose-level of fluff and some smut that made me really hot and bothered writing it. also thank you for the request and sorry for the soooo long wait! 💗

MASTERLIST    |    ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

The gentle summer winds claw at your bare arms, the scent of a hazy meadow curling around you as you touch your paintbrush against the lightly tanned paper you brought out earlier. Watercolors are messy when you first start out, but the layers of greens, yellow ochres and azure blues are soon blending perfectly together into a landscape of Grizzlies West on the ides of July. 

You rinse out your brush and make the water flow along the bottom of the painting, creating little stars of emerald and gold, thick bushes of grass and a few flecks of dandelions. Next to them, a shadow of a tree and spots of flickering sunlight. 

The end of your painting session quickly approaches when you hear footsteps behind you, boots crushing the tall grass at the edge of the clearing. You turn towards the sound and a smile curls in the corner of your mouth when you realize it's Arthur, sweat-covered and smelling like horses. 

"You should take up paintin' real people," he grins at you as he finally reaches the patch of shadow you're sitting in, knocking off his hat with one hand and wiping off the sweat from his brow with his forearm. "Ya know, I once knew a painter. He was one really strange fella."

"Was he the man who painted every lady and their mother in Saint Denis?" You giggle and offer him your canteen. Arthur loudly gulps down mouthfuls of water, and he's so hasty that some of the droplets escape and run through his beard and down his neck. 

"And their husband, too. Naked as the day they was born," he collapses next to you in the grass, mindful of the blanket you brought out to sit on. The smell of horses and leather is even stronger but you don't mind. It's a smell of home, of Arthur, of the life you'd built together. 

You lean down to him to press a gentle peck on his cheek and then his lips, but he stops you when you try to lean away. He pulls you into a full, sweet kiss that leaves you breathless. 

"Did the others leave?" you ask him quietly, your forehead still pressed to his. 

"Yeah. The barn is almost done, and in a few days the fence is gonna stand too." He's proud when your gaze meets his. A stable built by his own hand and a few friends'. Another dream turned reality. 

You pick out a stray blade of grass from his hair. 

"And the horses?" 

"Grazin' down at the valley," Arthur sits up and you pull back to give him some room. He stands up, dusting off his pants—not that it would have any effect—and he reaches for your hand. "C'mon darlin', wash up with me. This heat's makin' me sweat like a sinner in church."

You let him pull you up and then you turn to him to tangle your hands into the buttons on his already half-open shirt. Arthur watches your fingers, the path your palm takes when the shirt falls open. Undressing him is strangely intimate, even more than seeing him completely bare. It reminds you of the days when he was still unwell, when his chest didn't rise and fell in the easy rhythm it does now. You cared for him then, made sure every day started with a morning you spent together. You made sure he was still alive. 

Arthur gently grabs your hands when you stare at his chest for too long, lost in your own mind, the memories and the bitter taste in your mouth dissolving as he makes you look up at him, azure blue eyes happy and alive .

"We don't have all day," he murmurs and kisses your fingers, and then finishes undressing, now without your help. "I'm still smellin' like horseshit."

Your smile returns at that and you kick your shoes down. Arthur comes behind you, already a step ahead you as he reaches for the buttons on the back of your dress, quickly undoing them and pushing the material off of your shoulders. 

Your bloomers and stockings follow and you giggle when he tickles your side and slides a palm over to your front. The backs of his fingers gently brush over your stomach, a knowing softness in his touch and you suddenly almost want to cry. When you look down it doesn't seem like much, barely a little bump, but—Christ, it's more real with every passing day. Of course he knew, even before you told him. He cares so much, knows you better than you know yourself. 

And then his hand falls away and when you look up he's already halfway in the water.

You sigh and follow him, the smile slowly creeping back onto your face. "You didn't say this was a race!"

"I'm no honest player! You shouldda known that when you got together with an outlaw." He's submerged in the pleasantly cool water to his neck when you finally reach him even though the river is shallow here, barely reaching your knees. 

"I always had a thing for dangerous men."

Arthur laughs at that, a still rare but precious sound and it warms you from the inside out even though he splashes the cool water up towards you. 

You wash each other quietly, exchanging small kisses and lingering touches. Arthur lets you comb the majority of the dirt from his hair with your fingers and you get a nice shoulder-massage in return. When you decide it's time to retreat back into the shade from the scorching sun, Arthur swims for a few more paces while you walk to the river's edge, watching him for a little and then looking down at the clear surface to catch a glimpse of yourself.

The water's reflection is a bit cruel, twisting your body in various ways but between gently flickering droplets you can see the change—a gentle bump in your belly and the subtle swell of your breasts. It's frightening in a way, something you were always scared of; growing a life in your body from the seeds of love. 

A shadow looms over you in the reflection, and then you feel him, his warm chest and his steady breathing. Even, slow, with no trace of the sickness. Arthur's presence calms you instantly, and as he curls his hands around your body you lean into the embrace. 

"What's wrong sweetheart?" He murmurs into your hair, his hands settling on your stomach and under one breast. His thumb draws a slow circle there and his lips touch the side of your head. 

"I'm just…" you sigh and lay your hand upon his, over your belly. You fiddle with his wedding ring, a small band made of silver that reflects the warm white of the afternoon sunlight. "I'm afraid."

"Don't say that," he whispers and trails over your cheek and the crook of your neck with small kisses. "Ya're the most fierce woman I've ever known."

You smile at his words. Sweet man.

"What are ya afraid of?"

You release a breath as his nose brushes over your nape and his thumb continues to caress the flesh of your chest. 

"This," you murmur, tightening your hold on his hand. 

"You're afraid of me?" His smile is gentle against your skin but you just shake your head and he listens while you gather up your courage. "I know ya ain't."

"I'm afraid of this change… of giving birth. Raising a child of my own," your voice wavers, a lump forming in your throat from the admittance. "I was never good with kids, I—I don't want to be a bad mother, Arthur."

It's better when the words are out. 

You can feel the water lapping around your ankles, the hair curling on his chest against your back, the steady exhales that skim over the top of your spine. Arthur takes your hand in his and reaches for your face, turning you towards him until his forehead touches yours. 

"I think I know how you feel," he tells you, turning you more until you're fully embracing, chest to chest. You know what he means. He's told you about his son, a family he couldn't protect, a life he couldn't live. The responsibility he never grew up to. 

"Don't think I'm not happy," you whisper, leaning closer until you can taste the sour cherry he ate earlier on his lips. "I want this."

He nods and his mouth softly covers yours. The kiss is slow and wet, something you usually preserve for the bedroom, yet you chase after him when he tries to back away and murmur, "I know how you feel."

You pull him in after that, flick your tongue against his because you can't get enough of this man. You love him so much it almost hurts. 

You're afraid of that too. 

Love never came easy for you. No one cared enough. But Arthur loves you so much it overflows from his heart, spills out of his ribcage, drips into you in droplets of gold. You grab his hair and kiss him harder. Need crawls up your body like a vine woven from warmth, like liquid sunlight that reflects in his eyes when he pulls away and looks down at you. 

"You're everything for me," he murmurs like he had been reading your thoughts, and you watch how the sunshine flickers on his fluttering eyelashes. 

A tear escapes the corner of your eye, catching on his thumb as he slowly wipes it away. 

"Arthur—"

"Shhh," he reaches for your hand and gently pulls on it, bringing you towards the threadbare blanket you always carry with your painting supplies. He flops down onto it, maneuvering you into his lap until you're both sprawled over the material. 

"C'mere," he guides his hands around you, pushing your hair to the side and gazing into your heavy-lidded eyes. 

You kiss him first, with an insistent tongue and a soft rake of teeth, kissing him like you hadn't in weeks, kissing him slowly, forcefully. It's the sweetest thing. The sour cherry, the hint of tobacco, the whiskey, the lingering scent of horses—it's all so perfectly him you want to drown in the sensations. 

And then he groans, so freely, with his lips still tangled with yours and you gulp down the sound. Greed is a sin, lust is a sin, and you're sure love could be one too, because you can't even think about all the things you would do for this man. 

The memory of a painful night resurfaces, when you killed for him. 

And now, now you bear his child under your heart, something you thought you could never have. Arthur gave you a family you never had. He let you pour out all the love you felt bubbling under your skin. 

He gave you a reason to love.

"Arthur," you pull away, panting, clutching his hair like your life would depend on it. He says your name in return, sliding a large palm over your spine, to the small of your back and the other to one thigh. He turns you under him, immediately hiding his face in the crook of your neck to kiss and nip at the tender skin over your pulse. 

"Ya want somethin'?" You feel him smile because he knows exactly what you want—what you need—from the sound of your voice alone. "Tell me darlin'. Your wish is my command."

"Arthur," you feel over his back, the nape of his neck and decide to bury your hand in his golden brown locks. "Want you."

He hums, licks over a small spot under your ear and murmurs,

"How ya want me?"

You don't want to beg. You know he likes to tease you a little, to play along until you can form those sinful words he so loves to hear, but his fingers are already ghosting over one bare thigh, turning over to the inside where you can feel slick dampness that's not from the stream. 

"Want you inside me," you're shameless when you whisper it into his ear, delighted by the rumbling groan that leaves his lips at your request. 

A sun-warmed hand skims over the spot where your mound meets one thigh, the skin thin and sensitive there, and it makes you shiver and grip his shoulder tighter. His palm cups your cunt, two thick fingers wedging their way between your folds, parting your wet heat.

When you tug at his hair to urge him on he just chuckles, pulls back his head to look down at you.

"Gotta make sure," he paints the words onto your lips and your tongue flicks out to lick at his upper lip. 

And then those two sinful fingers push inside you. 

"Shit," it catches you off guard, the sudden blooming pleasure, but you can't be mad at him, not for the teasing nor for the sweet way he prepares you. 

"You know I don't want to hurt ya," he presses a small kiss onto your lips and then moves on, downwards, down, down, until his cheek rests over one of your thighs so he can watch how his fingers disappear and come away wet. 

You look down at him, one hand still buried in his hair, and you guide him closer to where you want him most. His lips are soft when they meet with your flushed folds, and he smiles into them when your moan reaches his ears. 

"Jesus, Arthur," you pant, already lost in the feel of his mouth and the insistent press of his fingers. "Right there, just right there—"

He memorized you like pages from a favorite poetry book, the syllables of your flesh and the rhythm of your movements and he takes you apart like this, with his head between your legs and his fingertips pressing up, up inside your walls. You pull on his hair, brush it out of his face and watch the concentrated furrow of his brow and his nose squished against your mound, broken one too many times and now red with the deep blush of his arousal. 

It doesn't take long for you to come apart like this—it's like ink running down a clear page when water spills over it, there's nothing that could stop the rush engulfing your body and the sparks that catch aflame in your veins. Your chest is so tight, the air barely enough, the pressure snapping away and leaving you with the phantom feeling of it for a few more seconds. 

"That's it, sweetheart," Arthur praises you, pulls away to watch how your chest rises and falls with every hastily gulped down breath. 

He slowly pulls out his fingers, still tightly clutched by your fluttering heat and spreads the wetness over your cunt. His gaze lingers on your belly, on the small bump he can feel under his palm when he moves up to kiss you. 

"You're sure it's okay?" His voice is so soft when he brushes away your hair, tucking it behind your ear as your legs fall even more open and his hips settle between them. His cock is hard against the inside of your thigh, and so hot it startles you for a second. 

You answer him with a nod, your voice not working properly when you try to murmur his name. 

Your hand is still between your bodies, traveling down to his erection so you can get a hold of him and have him as you want. Arthur shudders as your fingers meet with his feverish skin, curling around his fat cock and pumping once, twice, while you guide him to the right place. He groans into your neck, shuddering from your touch. His want is far more stronger than he lets on—you know exactly how loving you is something he can never get enough of. 

The tip catches on your entrance, slowly slipping in, still far faster than you anticipated, but it's good, so goddamn good. Arthur's hand clenches into the blanket next to your head and he rushes in to kiss you again. It's rough and needy and perfect and his teeth rake over your tongue when you open up for him. 

The stretch is familiar yet still present every time you have him inside you but you're not complaining when it burns so sweetly, like the fire flicking at the beating of your heart inside your ribcage. Arthur slowly drags himself out and then pushes in again, and you're so wet there's a loud squelch.

"Hm, you want me this bad darlin'?" He pants into the side of your face as his lips slip over your jaw, not focused enough to keep kissing you longer, but you don't mind. This way you can nip over his strong neck while he pushes inside you again, and again, building a steady rhythm.

"Ah… I—I hope that was a rhetorical question," you smile into the crook of his neck but it's short lived when he picks you apart so easily with only a few well-practiced thrusts. 

Arthur embraces you tighter and takes you faster, chasing an end that approaches so quickly you can't decide if it's because of the summer heat or the days you spent without intimacy, too busy with the ranch and the horses. Maybe it's both, or neither, you don't really care anymore. Your thoughts are turning hazy, glazed over by yellow ochre sunshine and azure blue eyes that stare at you like you're something worth living for. You tip your head against Arthur's and kiss him once more, letting him take you apart, steal your pieces, build you whole again inside his own heart. 

His hand is there again, on the taut skin of your belly where a seed of love blooms. There's a tear sliding down your face. You don't know if it's yours or Arthur's. 

It doesn't matter anyway. 

You embrace him with your legs and arms and he cradles you close to himself in return, grinding into you until the familiar pressure bubbles under your skin again, flames fanned alive with practiced movements and soft touches. 

You're somehow kissing him. Slow and deep. Arthur's hips fall out of pace and you can feel him twitch inside you but you keep him close with your heels pressed into his thighs.

"Arthur—"you pant, sweaty hands tangling into the hair on his nape. "Stay."

Arthur lets out a loud groan, something that's rare and rumbling and it just fuels the fire inside you even more.

"Ya want to be even more full of me?" His voice is raspy and so low you only heard him talk like this when he was threatening bandits. Jesus, this is the end.

"Yes," you hiss against his face, your kisses only landing on the corner of his mouth.

"Christ darlin', talk to me like that an' I'm gonna lose my goddamn mind," he grabs onto your left thigh, opening you up more.

You lean up until you can whisper into his ear, "You made me like this."

The answer for that is an uncontrollable buck of his hips and a silent gasp right next to your ear. 

"So many dirty things spilling from that pretty mouth."

"Ya gonna shut me up?"

He presses himself deep, not as much as you want—he's trying to be careful, but it makes the air hiss out of your lungs anyways. 

"Is that good enough?"

Your only answer is a whine, so needy it's almost embarrassing, but it's only spurs him on more. Your end is near, the pleasure twisted in your gut unfolding in the most beautiful way, blooming inside every vein in your body. You clutch his shoulders as you crest, clenching around him in an almost painful way, letting pleasure burn up your veins like fuses of dynamite. Arthur groans into your neck, his hand quickly descending to your mound, prolonging your pleasure with practiced fingers and the torturously slow drag of his cock. 

"A—Arthur," you're incapable of saying anything more than his name and quiet words of love, but it's enough, it's always enough. 

Arthur stills inside you with a final thrust, twitching and shaking as he fills you up, catching your lips in a final kiss that lacks the earlier passion. 

"You're gonna be the death of me," he mumbles when he's pulled himself together enough to speak. 

He turns you to your side when he pulls out of you with a hiss, settling beside you with an arm still laying around your middle. 

"Thank you," you whisper as you knock your nose to his, closing your eyes for a second. You feel him breathe out slowly, freely. You don't say what for but you know he understands. 

Arthur presses gentle kisses over your eyelids, and then he moves to stand up. You follow on wobbly legs, clutching his hand while you go back to the river to clean up and dress.

You turn your head to look at Arthur, to the clear azure sky and the ochre and green meadow reflecting in his eyes.

He's smiling.

[nafeary]

“Past The Surface Level”

⚬ Pairing: Arthur Conan Doyle/MC

⚬ Characters: Arthur, MC

⚬ Word Count: ca. 800

⚬ Genre: mostly angst, a lot of angst, there’s also angst...hurt and comfort, I suppose? Nothing too fluffy

⚬ Warnings: Panic attacks, anxiety, mentions of battlefields/guns/blood

⚬ Event: 500 Follower Milestone Celebration [Requests Closed]

✧✎ Prompt/s: Requested by @expectroyalpurple

15. “Stay.”

✧✎ A/N: Once again, sorry for the wait. Same old “school’s a bitch”. We’ve got another failed attempt at flash fiction, but I’ll get there... someday. Now, this is mostly based on my experience with panic attacks, but I also talked to a friend of mine about her experiences (to broaden my perception of it I suppose). Also, I wrote this in 3rd person POV as it felt a lot more appropriate. I’ve talked enough now brrr pls take care everyone!

“Stay...please—”

His voice cracked like splintered wood, uneven fragments obscuring his vision as the suffocating darkness poured down from the night sky outside his window. Raindrops hit the glass panels, his chest heaving in synchronisation. An arm came around his torso, as though it was attempting to guard him from the influxes of water, threatening to pull him beneath its surface.

Arthur couldn’t fathom how vulnerable he was being.

In fact, he hadn’t planned to ask—no, beg—her to stay, yet his body seemed to act on its own, pushing the plea past his lips before he could swallow it.

Shivering ever so slightly, he cast his gaze away from the floor and towards the form occupying the portal of his door. She’d just come to his room to ask him whether he’d like a cup of coffee, but he’d already sunken to the bottom of the ocean—he was unable to act like nothing was happening. He couldn’t even remember what caused him to descend this spiral of fear and dread—it was all so sudden.

Abruptly, abyssal flecks where starting to spot his vision. It was as if she was being swallowed by darkness, the shadows creeping their taw-like claws around her form with every wave of trepidation shocking his core.

“Ar...”

Arthur was certain he’d heard her voice, but the waves crashing against his ears obliterated any sound trying to pass through. His nails dug into the flesh of his arms, but before he could draw blood, someone tucked his fingers away from his skin with just enough force to halt that. He would have shoved the person, hurt the person, if it weren’t for the irregular beating against the palm of his hand.

“Ar...Arth...”

The swirling water was interrupted by a booming echo, followed by the unmistakable scent of sulphur and metal. Tears created ugly blots on his shirt, his chest growing tight as bile rose in his throat. Anything but these memories—

“Arthur!”

He jumped when the set of hands squeezed his own, causing his leg to his something hard. And now, with fear welling like a wadded lump in his throat, he was just about to reach for his gun—which strangely wasn’t there—when her voice came through. His hands, still enveloped by her own, came to rest against a soft surface, an irregular rhythm beating against his palm. Primal fear willed him to shove her off, but she kept a tight grip on him.

“Arthur, it’s me. Can you hear me?” Her?... Yes, the woman he’d recently befriended. He nodded, his tears still continuously dripping on his heaving chest.

“Good, I’m here, with you, in Comte’s mansion.”

...the mansion? Right. The mansion. He was here. Not in Pretoria.

Once he could finally focus his sight onto you, he saw her forehead dropping against his, her cool skin a pleasant sensation contrasting the heat and sweat he was bedaubed with.

“Try to follow my breathing, okay?” He willed himself to synchronise with her, every intake of air harsh and shallow. Ever so slowly, the air scraping against his throat became more pleasant, and the tears eventually stopped flowing. He didn’t know how long they’d been sitting there, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. Yet, all energy had left his body; thus, he couldn’t help but collapse into the chair he was sitting on. He was utterly drenched in sweat, his knee pounding unpleasantly (he must have hit it against his tabletop earlier).

While he was assaying to get his composure back, she rambled on about various and miscellaneous topics, as though she was assuring him that he was truly and without doubt within his room, in Comte’s mansion. ‘Mozart must be in a good mood, the song he’s playing is such a sanguine melody’, ‘I hope the rain stops soon, I still have laundry to finish’... her babbling was a welcome distraction.

Arthur absentmindedly noticed that she was holding his hands against her chest, her heart, as if to anchor him to reality, to pull him out of his ocean of terror.

“I’m sorry you had to see this,” he uttered, his lids falling closed.

Her soothing voice rang out again, “Don’t be. I’m glad I was able to help you.” She still didn’t let go of his hands, instead deciding to commence her talking, “Perhaps you should change, Arthur. You might catch a cold if you don’t take off your wet clothes.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks, but unlike before, it was a delightful feeling, enveloping him with downy feathers. He was still shaken up, but it distracted him from the unpleasant state of his body—she never failed to calm him beyond compare, after all.

“Are you hoping to catch a glimpse of me, perhaps?” A cocky smirk hang from his lips, although it must have looked rather pathetic, considering just how drained he was.

“N—no. In fact, I was going to bring you a glass of water... why do you always have to act like this.” With a small sigh, she turned around to leave.

Arthur called out to her before she could exit the room. “Luv?”

“Yes?”

He flashed her the most genuine smile he could manage at that moment. “Thank you.”

Tag list of the most wonderful sweethearts: @juminly @kisara-16 @sweetlittlemouse @thesirenwashere @nad-zeta @delicateikemenmemes

[darkshadow90]

Arthur Fleck x reader: He feeds you soup since you’re having trouble chewing

Summary: You’re not feeling well and it hurts to chew. Arthur being the sweet man he is feeds you some soup.

A/N: Hey guys this is just a short drabble. It’s nothing special, just another fluff piece. Warnings: None. Also I made a post earlier. I’m accepting asks an requests so if you feel comfortable, please send them in :)

You were not feeling well at all. You were currently dealing with another ear infection, and it was debilitating. You were in so much pain. You were given anti bacterial drops and a bottle of antibiotics to treat it. You were having trouble chewing, you ate soft foods. Arthur insisted you take the day off from work. You begged him to go to work, but he wasn’t having any of it. He called in to Hoyt sick so he could spend the day watching over you.

You spent most of the day resting. Arthur came to wake you and give you your next antibiotic and dose of ear drops. “Y/N. Wake up. You need to eat something so you can take your antibiotic.” You groaned and shook your head. “I’m not hungry. “Please, Y/N. Just a few bites.” “Okay, but can I have the ear drops first?” He nodded. “Lay on your side.” He put them in your ear and once that was done, he fed you soup. It was some kind of vegetable soup with kale in it. It was canned of course, but Arthur heated it up over the stove and added spices to it to add more flavor. It tasted delicious, perfect for how you were feeling. To your surprise you ate all the soup. 

Arthur was thrilled. “Good job, honey. I’m so proud of you. What do you say to a bath? It’s been a few days since you washed your hair.” You frantically shook your head, afraid you might make the infection worse. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you. I’ll be careful, I promise.” You agreed to let him help you. True to his word, Arthur was extremely careful especially with your hair so water wouldn’t get into your ear. He helped you dry off and get dressed. The two of you went back to the bedroom. Arthur sat on the bed and scooped you up into his lap. He kissed your forehead. 

You groaned again, your ear hurting. “I know, sweetie, I know. I’m so sorry.” He gently rocked you, and despite his thin body, Arthur’s chest was warm. The heat from his sweater soothed your ear. “You can sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time for the drops again, okay?” You were barely awake. “Mhm. Thank you, Artie.” Arthur woke you gave you the drops, and you slept through the night. Over the next few days you began to feel better. You were glad you let Arthur take care of you.

[mctherofdragons]

In the Afterglow | 2 | F.W.

moodboard by @minty-malfoy​.

Summary: The reader is married to George Weasley, and for all intents and purposes, he is the perfect husband. But, despite her best efforts to resist, Fred presents temptation she never knew she’d fall for.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader; George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Alternate Universe: No Voldemort AU

Rating: Mature, Future Chapters will Feature Explicit Content

Trigger Warnings: Angst, cussing, mild sexual content, mentions of extramarital affairs, cheating, nudity

Author’s Note: Let me know if you’d like to be on the tag list! 

Taglist: @oh-for-merlins-sake @sunflowernarry @vivianweasley @haf-the-trash-panda @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @msmarklee1213 @n3ssm0nique @satellitespidey  @michaylahpfan27  @girl22334 @starlightweasley @minty-malfoy @theweasleytwinsgirl

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

November 10.

Fall had fully arrived in London, decorating the ground with crunchy orange and red leaves. You pulled a sweater out of your closet and pulled it on. Molly had knit it for you last Christmas. It was maroon with little flecks of grey throughout. Something about it being homemade made you love it more. Being wed into the Weasleys offered you a family you hadn’t had before. One that gave gifts and hugged on holidays; one that shared laughter and drinks far into the night on Christmas Eve; one that cared for you deeply and unconditionally. Your heart jumped a bit when you felt two arms around your waist suddenly.

“Hi honey,” George said, turning to kiss your lips. You kissed back, placing your hand on the back of his neck. A giggle escaped your lips as you moved your hands down to the cool touch of his trouser buttons. The autumn weather had made you more affectionate, seeking warmth in your husband’s arms.

“I have about an hour until I really have to leave. Dinner’s on in the slow cooker, so...I don’t have anything to occupy me for a while…”

But, as was typical lately, George didn’t fulfill your requests.

“I have to go get to the shop,” he pouted. You sighed with an honest attempt to hide your annoyance. When you and George had first married, intimacy was far more...exciting. He would steal you away into the back storage room of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, hoping Fred didn’t come wandering back. You lived in back-arching, toe-curling ecstasy for your first year of marriage. But now, when you actually got around to having sex, it had lost its thrill. George didn’t show or tell you much lately how much he loved you. It hurt, but you were too afraid to let him know that.

You didn’t really have anything to say that wouldn’t have been slightly cruel, so you huffed off to the bathroom to finish your makeup. George followed, leaning against the door frame. “I’m sorry,” he sounded genuine. “But I mean, I have to go to work, honey.”

“I know,” you said, leaning forward to apply mascara to your eyes. He came over and gave you a kiss behind your ear, which only made you grow more frustrated with his lack of fulfilling what you wanted.

“Yup,” you said, moving away from him. The sound of your heels clicking on the tile as you head into the kitchen somehow annoyed George beyond belief.

“You really are being a bit of a bitch about this,” he huffed. His words stung. George was never one for name-calling, and just the sound of the cuss word rolling off his tongue cut you to the quick.

George had grown used to you, you reasoned. He no longer needed to ‘woo’ you because the shiny diamond on your finger had ensured you were his for good.

“Don’t start,” you warned. You busied yourself with filling your travel mug with coffee. The sound of George’s sighing made you look up. He was fastening the buttons of his jacket. For some reason, you felt like crying but pushed your tears back.

“Can we chat about this later?”

You nodded, handing him a paper bag with his lunch in it. He gave you a quick peck on the forehead and left.

You sighed, pulling your phone out of your pocket. Mindlessly, you scrolled to your recent texts and found Fred’s name. You took a type breath as you typed, feeling your heart murmur as you typed.

Thinking of you, Freddie.

But you quickly erased the text, forbidding yourself to continue the thoughts you had started to entertain.

——————-

Later that evening, you stood in the back room of the shop, placing some things onto a storage shelf. It was typical that when you were done with work, you’d head over to Weasley Wizard Wheezes and give the boys a hand. Fred was sitting at a nearby computer, sending an email to one of the suppliers they frequently worked with. He had noticed you and George hadn’t said a single word to one another all night.

“Hey, y/n?”

You heard Fred begin to speak, so you turned to your head, walking over the computer.

“You seem down, is everything alright?”

This was the way of things between you and Fred. He knew you like the lyrics of his favorite song. If the tune was even a little bit off, he could sense it. There were times throughout your time of knowing him that he had used this to comfort you before you could even admit to your own hurt. Often, it so happened, this would be when you and George would get into a fight.

You felt the tears you had pushed down earlier begin to make their way up to the surface again.

“Oh, yeah, Fred, I’m okay.”

You felt Fred place his warm hand on top of yours. His palms and fingers were calloused from years of beating bludgers. The feeling of his touch felt different than ever before. You could sense somewhere deep in your bones that your feelings for Fred were changing as quickly and surely as the autumn leaves. He stroked his thumb over yours, looking up at you, his affectionate chocolate-colored eyes shining behind his long lashes.

“You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“I’m fine, Fred,” you moved away quickly, going back to stacking boxes of Whiz Bangs.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

November 29th.

“Happy birthday, Bill!”

Arthur placed a large cake down in the center of the dining table. Molly had allowed Albus to write in icing ‘Happy Birthday Uncle Billy’, which reminded Harry affectionately of his 11th birthday cake from Hagrid. You were sat between Fred and George, smiling happily as you watched him blow out the candles.

Fleur smiled affectionately as she gave Bill a shy kiss on the cheek. You felt yourself wondering if their marriage had also become listless. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe you should talk about how you’d been feeling with Fleur and Hermione, but, you felt a sense of shame. A sense of failure had started to enter your mind - maybe you just weren’t attractive to George anymore. A sense of sadness filled your heart again, so you pushed it away, reaching to George’s hand. He barely held it back. You could feel your knee touching Fred’s, which forced you to take continuous sips of the pumpkin juice in front of you.

Once everyone had finished eating, you chose to clean up so that everyone could continue talking. The truth was, you felt an aching sadness in your chest and needed some time alone. You turned on this sink in the kitchen, smiling at the coziness of Molly’s little kitchen. You allowed the sink to fill with whatever, humming to yourself as you scrubbed. You found your head bopping back and forth as you hummed the Triwizard Tournament theme.

You looked up when Fred appeared next to you, reaching into the water to help you.

“I got it,” you said quietly. Something about his mere presence made you want to scream.

“Let me help you.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about the dishes, but something about his tone and the huskiness behind his words made you think he definitely was not.

Your hands met beneath the water, Fred’s fingers dancing against yours. You moved to give his hand a squeeze, looking knowingly into his eyes.

“Y/n, I…”

Suddenly, you heard Ginny’s voice behind you. “You two need help?” She asked sweetly, grabbing a hand towel to do the drying. You yanked your hands out of the sudsy water with a splash.

“Absolutely, thanks, Gin,” you replied, letting yourself glance over at Fred who was clearly struggling to calm his breathing.

_________________________

The shower at the Burrow was notoriously hard to operate. But nonetheless, you were finally able to find the right temperature. You stood beneath the hot water, letting it run over you. You sighed contently. The heat had allowed some of the stress to melt away. You worked the shampoo into your hair, closing your eyes as you rinsed away a day’s worth of troubles. After you felt clean, you slid the curtain open, flipping over to wrap your hair in a towel. The room had become foggy from the heat, which you noted as you headed over to the mirror to wash your face.

Just then, the door opened. You jumped, nearly screaming at the sight of Fred in the doorway. He shut the door behind him. There was no way he hadn’t seen pretty much everything you had to offer. You couldn’t find a word to utter as he looked your bare body up and down.

Your breath felt strangled as he walked forward, moving so you were flush against the wall. In your chest, your heartbeat had gone wild. You had never felt like this in your life - not even the first time you finally made love to George.

Fred reached over and handed you the towel off a nearby shelf.

“Make sure you lock the door next time, pet,” he said, watching as you shakily wrapped it around you.

“Get out of here, Fred,” you feigned outrage, even though you didn’t mind him being there one bit.

He laughed, using his thumb to wipe smeared mascara from beneath your eye. It had run while you showered.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Fred-”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay-”

But Fred had turned to leave, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t tell George?”

“Pinky promise.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

December 24.

You all sat around the fire, warmed from the inside out by stories of the Weasley boys as children, and spiked eggnog. You sat between George’s legs, his arms wrapped lovingly around you. He placed his chin on your shoulder, and you turned to kiss his lips. He tasted like Christmas cookies and nutmeg.

“I’m tired, honey. Are you?”

You shook your head. “No, but go on up. I think I’ll stay up a while longer. Do you think I’ll see Father Christmas?”

George laughed, bopping you on the nose. “Perhaps, but he knows you’ve been a naughty girl.”

Molly gasped, “George Weasley! In front of your own mother!”

The whole room erupted in laughter, watching as your face turned bright red. “Goodnight, George,” you chuckled, giving him one last goodnight hug.

The room slowly continued to clear out. You sat on the floor, sipping more eggnog and flipping through a photo album. You smiled at a sweet picture of Fred and George in matching Christmas sweaters, toothy grins adorning their face as they held up their Christmas presents. On the next page was another picture of the twins in matching onesies, just a few days after they were born. They were always together. They shared everything. You felt a pang of guilt wash over you again. You hadn’t been able to forget about the incident on Bill’s birthday, and what’s more, it had thrilled you.

Eventually, it was just you and Fred in the sitting room. The house had fallen quiet as you listening to the crackling of the fireplace. Fred came to sit next to you, silently watching the fire along with you.

You turned and looked over at him. He still captivated you with his boyish charm. No matter how many times you had looked at him, you never failed to feel some sort of joy deep inside of you. Again, you felt ashamed, because your husband has failed to make you feel this way for a few months now. 

Fred scooted forward, looking into your eyes as if he were searching for something. You gazed back, hoping that he would find what he was looking for. He was wearing his old, tattered sweater that Molly had made him so many years ago, a big F on the front. It was sweet and nostalgic. It reminded you a Christmas nights at Hogwarts, sharing chocolates and playing pranks in the hallowed hallways. 

“So, what’s been going on? Seriously, y/n, it’s been driving me mad.”

“Well, honestly, things aren’t fantastic with George right now, Fred, s’all there is to say.”

“How do you mean?”

You blushed. “It’s embarrassing,” you admitted, pulling the sleeves of your sweater down around your hands and pulling your knees to your chest.

Fred reached over to tuck a hair behind your ear. “You can tell me, you know that.”

“I just don’t think he finds me beautiful anymore, Fred. He doesn’t touch me like he used to. He...just...I don’t know. I feel like such a normal part of his life. The fireworks have gone. It makes me feel small and ….unbeautiful. I miss feeling wanted. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because...we haven’t started a family yet. Maybe he’s disappointed in that? I don’t know.”

The words came pouring out of your mouth. All at once, you regretted them, staring down at the carpet. You felt bad for talking badly about George, especially to his closest brother. You felt tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. Sniffling, you used the hem of your sleeves to wipe your eyes. 

“You are so far from unbeautiful, y/n. You’re perfect. George is the luckiest man on this Earth. I...I swear it.”

What Fred didn’t tell you was that the day George had gone through with the proposal, he had locked himself in his bathroom and cried. Full, heavy, fat-teared crying over the fact that his chance with you had been lost forever. Seeing you in white walking down the aisle toward him had taken his breath away, too, until he remembered he was standing next to George as his best man. You were the one that got away, and the hardest part was is that you hadn’t gone anywhere.

He cupped your face in his hands, moving to use his sweater to catch your stray tears. “Do you know how much I hate seeing you sad?”

All at once, your lips were crashing into his. You fell back onto the carpet, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head, propped up by his arms. “Freddie,” you gasped, but before you could say too much, he continued to kiss you.

Your tongues battled for dominance. Fred flicked his tongue across your lip. You felt his hands sliding up under your sweater, grabbing your hips. His hands were colder than you expected, making you jump. Your chest rose and fell, breathing deeply as he pulled away.

“He’s a bloody idiot,” Fred gasped, pressed his forehead to yours. The only sound to be heard in the Burrow sitting room was the shaky breath of you both...and the overwhelming sense that a beautiful secret - like a tapestry -  had just started to be woven together.

[To Be Continued.]

[ohallthecrushes]

Arthur with an extra affectionate Reader // Headcanons

Anonymous said: This is my first ask, so sorry if this is confusing or complicated to understand- But could i request Arthur Fleck/Joker and Jason Todd with a S/O who’s extra affectionate? Like, the reader enjoys giving hugs, kisses, gifts, ect and doesnt expect anything back- You dont have to do this if you don’t want to!

A/N: Hi! Don’t worry dear, it’s not confusing at all. :) I wrote a piece with Arthur and Joker, but unfortunately I don’t know who Jason Todd is, so I couldn’t come up with anything. :( But maybe someone from the community could write this one for you? I put Jason in tags, if anyone is willing to write about him, let me know and I’ll make a post about it, so the Anon can find it. :)

I hope you enjoy it and thank you for the request. 💙

Word counts:1119

Arthur felt lack of affection his entire life. He always craved for someone to show him at least a bit of compassion and kindness. A simple hug would do as he thought.

He didn’t know the feeling quite well... of being loved, hugged or kissed.

He tried sometimes imagine how would it be like to be close to someone physically. Furthermore, he also craved to be intimate with someone he would love, an emotional closure was something he’d always dreamed of.

Most of the time those images he created in his mind, the fake scenarios with someone, didn’t do much for him. When his depression put him in bed for weeks, ideas and dreams only deepened his sadness, because it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t real.

He craved for someone so much that when he finally had you in his arms, he didn’t know what to do with himself. It felt like heaven to finally be hugged, to finally be close to someone, to had his dream coming true, but the thing was...he couldn’t prepare himself for how it would feel. How entirely overwhelmed he would be, but in a good way.

You were one of the nicest, loveliest, prettiest and every other -est person he’d ever met.

You were also very affectionate, which was like a heaven gift for Arthur, who always craved for someone like that.

But he wasn’t prepared for how much affectionate you would be for him.

He didn’t know what he did right that he deserved you.

At first, it looked like he was scared of your touch, like he distanced himself from you, not with his body, but with his mind.

Every time you hugged him, he hugged you back right away, kind of surprised that you did it, though very pleased with it.

It was cute, cause he never broke any hug you gave him. The decision was always on you to part away. Sometimes you thought that he could stay like that, hugging you forever if you didn’t decide to break away.

But then you noticed that he tended to go frozen like there was something stopping him in his mind. He blushed, he looked conflicted and lost.

He was so unused to being peppered with love gestures.

At the beginning you were almost always the first to initiate a contact with him. A touch of your hand, playing with his hair, clinging to his chest, a kiss on his cheek.

You did that very often, and you could tell that he wanted this, that he loved when you were touching him. His body gravitated towards you and his eyes begging for more. He even gave you an expression that he needed your touch to breath.

The thing was, it was more than him being too shy to do more, soon you realized.

You wondered whether you might be too much for him, which wasn’t true at all, but you both had your insecurities haunting you sometimes.

It puzzled you and when you finally asked about why he got stiff sometimes, he replied that your affection was so new to him that he wasn’t sure what to do, what is a right thing to do. He wasn’t sure if it was safe to be more open to you.

He wanted you so much, but he got scared sometimes.

He learned to feel more comfortable with you soon. Intimacy was something he approached to quite fast, but with caution and sometimes awkwardness, before he established his emotions. He welcomed your every affection with everything he had and tried to return your affection, even though you didn’t expect him to do it.

And when he finally accepted that you wouldn’t hurt him, he started craving you more and more each day as your relationship evolved from friendship to something you both could call love.

He also was wired the same way as you, as his love language was mostly physical. He enjoyed hugging you, he loved cuddling and he always wanted to be in physical contact with you. Holding hands, brushing over your arm, soft kisses on your forehead etc.

He loved you the way you were with all his heart and deeply in his soul he thanked the universe that it had created you that way.

For someone as touch starved as he was, your extra affection and closeness made him finally feel loved, and he never had enough of you, quite contrary! He clung to you literally every day, thanking you for your love and tenderness.

He never made you feel like your affection was too much.

And it wasn’t extra to him at all. He was really happy that he had found someone so passionate and loving like you. He felt like your love could compensate all the years he felt so lonely and untouched.

In fact, it was like he got addicted to you and your puppy love.

He was truly happy when you showed him your love and felt in need and starved when you were away or wanting some alone time.

It got a little handy later...

Arthur tried to be the best boyfriend for you, the best friend and the best lover, but after his Joker transformation, any restraint he had and any fuck he used to give to the world (he still cared as much as always for you though, his love never changed) just vanished, and he wasn’t afraid to ask for things from you anymore.

He wasn’t shy or awkward when it came to approaching to you with his needs and affection.

Sometimes almost greedy he was when he felt like you didn’t kiss him half as often as yesterday.

Sometimes he acted like a little brat, demanding attention from you.

But he never got to the point when you truly had enough of him. His behavior? Yes, it was disturbing in times, but it was all withing the lines and comfort zone for both of you. All because you knew each other for so long and you knew your limits, you were thankful for that.

And it didn’t bother you much, cause soon you learned your way to tame his Jokerness.

But of course it didn’t mean that sometimes you didn’t feel irritated or annoyed by his urgency or cocky behavior.

But you loved him, you loved your Joker the way he was, the way he’d become, and you had to admit that his constant need for you fed your ego pleasantly.

All in all you were a perfect match for each other, you completed his deepest needs and he did whatever he could to do the same for you, to make you feel as loved and as happy as you made him.