#joaquin phoenix joker x reader

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 13

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

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

Word Count: 2651

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

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

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

“Sounds perfect,” you’d replied instantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur laughed. “You did? Last night?”

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

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

“It was…very nice.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur nodded.

“Your…father?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like a bolt of lightning, it struck you.  

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

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

You peered in closer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Waynes were a piece of work. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He paused. You shot him a quizzical look.

“I was what?” you prodded. 

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What was I, naked or something?” 

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

“You were wearing your Snow White costume.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...you’re a college student.”

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

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

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

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

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

It only made your feelings deepen for him even more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur nodded respectfully.

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

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

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

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

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[k4marina]

too far in || j.r

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

synopsis: just a snippet of your relationship with the joker

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

fem!reader x joker

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thepinkdreamganjaqueen]

🫧 PINK DREAM GANJA QUEEN MASTERLIST 🫧

I will be linking all future works here. You can also find me on Ao3.

Be sure to check back, support, and above all, enjoy!! -Pinkxxx

🩷Arthur Fleck (Joker)

SUBWAY OBSESSIONS (ARTHURS POV)

〰️Chapter 1

〰️Chapter 2

〰️Chapter 3

SUBWAY OBSESSIONS (FEM READERS POV)

〰️Chapter 1

〰️Chapter 2

〰️Chapter 3

🩷Randall Kirkland (From)

〰️Limitations NEW✨️

〰️Focus On Me

🩷Jade Hererra (From)

〰️TBA

🩷Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

〰️The Problem With Portals

🩷Homelander (The Boys)

〰️Run Rabbit

Hello, fellow fanfic lovers and writers!

I'm Pinkxxx!! Taurus. Artist. Writer. Stoner. PNW born and raised. Avid hiker. Carl Sagan is my dude! Love looking at the stars any chance I get. I love hello kitty and heavy metal. Helping people for a living during the day, probably writing smut at night.

🎀FAVORITE FANDOMS🎀

-Joker/Arthur Fleck

-The Boys

-From (MGM+)

-Teen Wolf (MTV)

-The Last Of Us

-American Horror Story

-Interview With The Vampire (AMC)

-Twilight

-Beetlejuice

-Scream

-Doctor Who

-The Originals

-House Of The Dragon

-The Vampire Diaries

-True Blood

-Venom

I would love to do some kind of fic for each of these ideally. I am also interested in the more supernatural stuff like the Mothman, Skinwalkers, Slenderman, Ghosts, Cthulhu, and Aliens if that would interest anyone. I might just do it anyway, though tbh. 👀

I am new to tumblr and new to fanfic, so if anyone wants to reach out with comments or tips or just to say hey! I'd love to hear it!

🎀Please be nice.🎀

[lay-z]

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

[galos-writing]

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

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

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

Warning: mention of weapons

Arthur's turn on's/off's

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joker's turn on's/off's

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[darknessisafriend]

Arthur who?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Arthur Fleck...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag list: @skaravile @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @thatdummy-girl​r @galos-writing @pstvchld @chiclunatic @call-me-harley-quinn @cigznvalentines @help-i-am-obssessed @arthurfleckjoker2019 @theartistdetective @jaylovesbats @niniitah-ah @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend @fleckcmscott @obssessedandthirsty @weirdflecksbutok @ajokeformurray

[ledgerserious8]

Little Neighbor | Arthur Fleck & Reader

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

Genre : Flutter First Met

Summary : The first met with your neighbor Arthur.

Word count : 1.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That golden heart you're curious to find..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Little Neighbor

[frog-necromancer]

Life sucks. But not when I'm with you. // Arthur Fleck x Reader

Arthur Fleck / Joker X fem!Reader (based on Joker (2019))

Summary: Arthur shows up at your place in the middle of the night. You're buzzed, a little high, and definitely not expecting company. He offers a distraction and you're not about to say no. Lots of fluff, tenderness, angst, and a whole lot of awkward sex. Enjoy!

Warnings: Talk about suicide. Alcohol and drug abuse. Dub Con (Reader is a little drunk and high but it’s not too bad.) Arthur is a virgin and Reader is also not very experienced.

~5 k words

Tags: #arthur fleck #joker #x reader #angst #fluff #smut #depression #mention of suicide #mention of a gun #protected sex #dry humping #thigh riding #cuddling #alcohol abuse #drug abuse #dub con #loss of virginity #hurt comfort #happy ending #biting #kissing #fingering

Keys:

F/N - first name 

H/C - hair color 

F/C - favorite color 

---

There was a soft, almost hesitant knock at the door, echoing through your dimly lit apartment. You sighed quietly, putting the bottle down on the couch table with a soft clank, before walking over to open to whoever was on the other side. “Coming!”, You called out, your voice rougher than you would have liked, stumbling a little as you lost balance for a moment.

Hopefully it wasn't anyone important, already in your comfortable nightclothes, you weren't in the mood for lengthy discussions with your bitch of a landlord or a nosy neighbor.

The door creaked open, throwing the soft light of the hallway into your apartment and revealing a rather awkward looking Arthur. 

He sent you a nervous smile and you gave him a gentle yet confused look in return: “Arthur? It's late…what are you doing here?” You asked calmly, the smell of wine and something else on your breath, his eyes wandered over your form, taking you in. The way you were a little unsteady on your feet, the way your eyes were a little too hazy for it to be just from the lack of sleep.

“Your door was open.”, Arthur said mildly, a little awkward as always, his voice echoing slightly in the empty hallway. He was wearing his light brown jacket and a pair of jeans, he looked so normal like this. 

When he was not wearing makeup and that costume of his.

“And the lights were on. I thought something might be wrong.” A concerned frown formed on his face, his brows creasing slightly. 

“Oh...I must have forgotten to lock it.”, You muttered to yourself, rubbing your face to try and clear your head a little. But it didn't quite work and Arthur seemed to notice it too. 

You seemed a little out of it, more than usual. Arthur tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied you, taking in your slightly hazy eyes and unsteady stance, he couldn't ignore it any longer. “Have you been drinking?”, He asked, taking a small step closer. His voice was calm, but held a note of concern.

“A little.”, You admitted, shrugging as if it wasn't a big deal.

After a moment of silence you sighed softly, waving your hand, gesturing for him to come into the apartment: “You wanna come in or stand there all night?”

Arthur hesitated for a moment before finally stepping inside: “You shouldn't leave your door open like that.”, He said softly, closing it behind him, letting it fall into the lock with a gentle click: “Not in this neighborhood.”

You shrugged, not saying a word as you took some empty cups and brought them to the sink. You knew very well that he was right, that you should be more careful.

He looked back at you, his expression unreadable: “What were you drinking?” You clicked your tongue, throwing some trash into a bin. “Wine.”

Your apartment was messy as usual. Arthur could see a wine bottle next to a couple of pill bottles on your couch table, his concern deepened. 

He didn't mind the messy part. He was used to messy. In fact, he liked it. 

He hummed, acknowledging your reply, as he clumsily took off his jacket and threw it on the couch.

Arthur picked up the wine bottle, noting that it was almost empty. “How much did you have?”, He asked quietly, his eyes flicking to the pill bottles. He couldn't read the labels from where he was standing. 

“Dunno...it was almost full earlier.”, You muttered and Arthur couldn't help but sigh: “Have you taken anything else?” he asked quietly, stepping closer to examine the pill bottles. His voice was gentle but firm: “You're not normally this... out of it.”

He grunted softly as he read the label, he had no idea what those were for, but they looked like something you needed a prescription for, something you shouldn't just take for the hell of it.

“I'm fine.”, You croaked, slumping down on the couch. Arthur sat down next to you, the metal below the cushions creaking quietly under the added weight.

He carefully set the medication aside, his eyes darting back to the almost empty wine bottle. “F/N, these are strong medications.”, He said sternly, but with a worried edge to his words: “You shouldn't mix them with alcohol.” 

He reached out hesitantly, touching your arm gently. You couldn't help but flinch slightly at his sudden touch to your bare skin. “I know.”, you murmured. Arthur's brow furrowed in concern as he looked at you: “Then why did you?” His thumb gently caressed your arm, a small, comforting gesture.

“You know I worry about you, F/N.”, His voice was low and gentle, filled with a quiet affection. 

You hummed weakly, leaning closer and he helped you to climb into his lab. He moved to accommodate you, adjusting his position. His arms wrapped around your waist instinctively, holding you close as you leaned against his body. 

“Can I take the pills away from you for a while?”, He asked after a moment: “Just until the alcohol wears off?”

You nodded faintly, smiling almost playfully if it wasn't for the exhaustion in your soft E/C eyes: “If you keep me distracted?”

Arthur couldn't help but smile too, relieved that you agreed. 

“Of course, How about we make you more comfortable?”, He asked gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, pausing just a moment to take in your smell. You always smelled so nice, he thought to himself. 

He carefully scooped you up, carrying you over to your room and your bed, before setting you down gently. He was a little unsteady in the process but luckily your bedroom wasn't far. 

He really wished he was a little stronger in that moment.

Arthur then retrieved the pill bottles and tucked them away in a drawer before returning to you.

For a moment the both of you were completely silent, the only sound was the soft ticking of a clock somewhere in the dimly lit room.

“I- I'm a little drunk right now.”, you murmured. 

An awkward, loud laugh burst from Arthur's lips as you stated the obvious. You knew he couldn't help it.

Finally he sat down next to you on the unmade bed, your thighs barely touching. “I can see that.”, He said between laughs, tucking a strand of H/C hair behind your ear, it took him a second to calm down, a second you would gladly give him.

“Do you want some water? That might help.” He finally got out, voice a little scratchy but laced with genuine care.

He started to get up but you pulled him back down, your hand taking his: “I think I need you.”, You murmured lowly, pulling his hand to your mouth and pressing your lips against his knuckles. They were so soft, Arthur thought to himself and he shuddered slightly.

He paused, looking down at you with a gentle smile. “Okay.”, He murmured, sitting back down beside you, bed creaking softly.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as you leaned against his side. “What do you need me for?”, He asked gently, as your hand played with his: “To hold you? To talk to you?”

You paused your caressing of his hands, eyes wandering to his slightly cracked lips. “Whatever you'll give me, Arthur.”, You murmured, burying your face in the crook of his neck, he smelled of cigarettes. 

Arthur held you tighter, his chin resting atop your head as you buried yourself against him. A soft chuckle escaped him at your words.

“Anything you need…I'll give you anything you need.” he murmured, stroking your H/C hair gently. He could smell the wine on your breath, mixed with your usual scent and whatever else you'd taken. You smelled like heaven.

You climbed onto his lap, Arthur wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You were straddling him now, still wearing your light night clothes. 

He looked at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled tenderly. “F/N.”, He murmured, his voice low: “You're drunk, remember? And I think you're a little high too…” 

You hummed, not really listening, not caring: “yeah…” You murmured. “Could you touch me, please?” You asked, E/C eyes half-lidded.

Surprise flashed across Arthur's features before his expression softened. He hesitated for a moment.

“F/N.”, He said gently, his hands resting on your hips. “I don't want us to do something you'll regret in the morning.” 

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours: “Are you sure this is what you want?” You nodded softly, pulling him a little closer.

Arthur's hands shyly slid up your sides, his touch gentle as he caressed you through the thin fabric of your sleeping shirt, every curve and valley. He held his breath, not believing what he was doing. He felt drunk on your closeness.

He watched your face carefully, gauging your reaction. Ready to stop at any sign of distress.

When you sighed and leaned into his touch, he continued, gradually moving his hands up to finally cup your chest. It was like he was worshipping you and your body. And maybe he was, maybe you were the goddess he was destined to adore.

“I like it when you touch me…” You confessed quietly, sighing. “Do you like to touch me?”, You asked, searching his light eyes. “Very much.”, Arthur breathed out, his thumbs tracing slow circles over the thin cotton fabric covering your breasts. He could feel your pretty nipples hardening beneath his palms, a telltale sign of your arousal. 

His own body reacted, a hardness pressing against you through his pants. “It's hard not to.”, He whispered, his voice a little shaky.

You paused suddenly and he almost expected you to tell him to stop touching you. That this was a mistake and he a stupid clown. He held his breath for a second.

“You're hard?”, You asked and Arthur blinked, nodding hesitantly, you shifted in his lap. A deep flush crept up his neck as it dawned on him what you were doing, his lips parting in surprise. “Oh” he managed to say, his voice cracking slightly. He shifted, angling his hips so you could grind against the prominent bulge straining against his pants.

You whined oh so softly as you pressed yourself against him, grinding over the rough fabric of his jeans. Arthur gasped softly, feeling the heat and pressure even through his pants. “Is this okay?” You asked in between pants and he nodded quickly, too excited to even speak. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close as you worked yourself against him. He could have come in his pants just by looking at your flushed face. He liked how you took control when he didn't feel up to leading, how you used him to make yourself feel good.

Arthur's breath hitched as you arched into his touch, your body pressing flush against his. He leaned in, his lips ghosting along your collarbone before placing a soft kiss there, his teeth gently nipping at your flesh. 

His hands continued their exploration, sliding down to grip your thighs and pulling you even closer, dragging your clothed core over his bulge, a delicious friction that made you squirm in his arms.

“F/N…” he groaned softly and you moaned breathily in response: “Don't stop... please…” he quickly shook his head: “I won't.”, Arthur promised, his voice low and husky. your hand found his head, burying your fingers in his hair, tugging just a little, he groaned in response, a deep and guttural sound. 

His hands slid to your back fidgeting almost nervously with the waistband of your night pants. He hesitated briefly, seeking your gaze, before slowly slipping his hands under the fabric to grip your bare bottom. You moaned in response and he could have come in his pants right then and there, from touching your ass and hearing your moans alone. “Is this okay?”, He asked quietly and you nodded: “It's you. Everything is okay.” 

Arthur's heart swelled with affection at your words, feeling bold he gave your butt another squeeze, feeling almost giddy at the sensation of your soft flesh. He prayed that you couldn't hear his heart beating wildly in his chest, couldn't feel how nervous he actually was.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a shy wine tinted kiss, as his hands continued to explore your bare skin.

He savored the taste of you, the feel of you in his arms. He didn't know how to kiss and it was quite clear, but hell did he enjoy it and hell did it feel right. 

He quickly helped you to take off your pants, pushing them down your legs before discarding them somewhere on the floor. His calloused fingers found your panties, soaked between your pretty legs. He pushed the fabric aside, not bothering to take them off as he slowly spread you open.

You whined softly, bucking against him in search of relief. He pulled you into another kiss as you pressed against his shaking hand, his fingers slipping through your wet folds in search of your sensitive nub, like he'd seen in movies. “Fuck, F/N.”, He murmured against your swollen lips, breaking the kiss only to press his forehead against yours, your eyes locking. 

His hand was clumsy, he didn't know what he was doing. His fingers fumbled as he tried to rub you in the right spot. He looked at you nervously, searching your face for any sign that he was doing it wrong. “Is this... is this okay?”, He asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded hazily, grateful for any friction you got from him, even if it was clumsy: “Just- don't stop, okay?” 

Arthur nodded, trying to focus on your pleasure despite his own inexperience. Finally he found your clit, a gasp spilling from your lips as the soft pad of his thumb rubbed against it. He continued to rub you gently, his fingers moving in slow circles as he tried to mimic what he had seen in movies and read in books.

He could feel your wetness coating his fingers, and it spurred him on. 

Arthur watched your pretty face closely, his eyes darkening as you whimpered and bucked against his hand.

He tried to remember how women reacted when they liked something, when they were close. And what people in his movies usually did now. 

Feeling brave, braver than usual, He slipped one trembling finger inside you, gauging your reaction. You gasped, your inner walls clamping down around him. “Arthur.”, You moaned, high and drunk and so, so pretty.

His eyes widened slightly at the sound of his name on your lips, a mix of surprise and arousal coursing through him. He slowly moved his finger in and out, feeling your wetness and heat envelop him, it was weird and sexy at the same time. “Like that?”, He asked softly, his voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and desire. You  nodded, moaning oh so softly, he feared he was hallucinating it.

Encouraged by your response, Arthur added a second finger, moving them slowly in and out. He watched you intently, learning what you liked by the sounds you made and the way your body moved. It was hypnotising.

His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it gently in tight circles: “Is this good?” You nodded frantically. “You're doing great!”, You breathed out in between soft whimpers.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Arthur's mouth, your words filling him with a sense of confidence. He continued to move his fingers inside you, finding a rhythm that made you moan and buck against his hand. He almost forgot his own erection that was painfully pressing against his pants. His thumb worked your clit with more assurance, learning from your reactions.

“I'm glad you found me tonight.” You moaned breathily. Arthur's heart swelled at your words, a warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with the physical pleasure he was experiencing. “I'm glad I did too, F/N.” he replied softly, his voice filled with genuine affection. “You make me feel... alive.”, He confessed.

“I was about to do something stupid…”, You whimpered softly, as he dipped his finger inside of you again.

“What were you about to do?”, Arthur asked, his finger moving within you, painfully slow, his hand a little shaky. 

“Was it... bad?”, He needed to know, needed to distract himself from the throbbing or he'd come right then and there. “Y-yeah.”, You got out in between pants, your hips stuttered slightly as you came closer to the edge. A delicious knot forming deep within your belly.

Arthur's eyes widened slightly as he felt your movements become more erratic, your breath hitching in short gasps. He could tell you were close.

“What were you going to do?”, He pressed, genuinely curious but also wanting to keep you talking, to prolong this moment. 

His thumb found your clit again, drawing unsteady circles around it just like he'd done earlier, while still pumping his finger within you. He could feel you shudder as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“I-” another moaned gasp fell from your lips “Wanted to down a bottle of pills after finishing the wine.”, You whined , so close to falling apart in his lap, from his hand alone.

Arthur froze, his fingers stilling inside of you for just a second, feeling your soaked warmth. “Jesus.”, He muttered softly. “Why?”, He couldn't help but ask, even as he was knuckle deep inside of you, pushing you towards your release. 

He knew it was fucked up to make someone come while they talked about suicide, but he couldn't stop. “You know... life sucks.”, You spoke softly. 

He nodded in return, he did know. He did know too well in fact. “It does…it does.”, He murmured.

Again he pumped his finger inside of you, curling it just a little, your body responded: spasming, as you came undone in his lap, moaning softly as the delicious knot burst within you. “God”, He muttered incredulously, your face still buried in his neck.

His index and thumb continued to work you through the orgasm, drawing out your moans, you felt like jelly in his arms. “You almost did something really stupid.”, He murmured, processing your words. “Yeah…”, You agreed weakly, too pleased to argue.

Arthur slowly pulled his hand away from you, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean. Your taste was sweet and intoxicating, and he found himself wanting more. “I'm even happier now that I came by” he said quietly, his hand rubbing your back gently as your arms were slung around his thin waist. 

“Me too.”, You murmured, finally loosening the hug and flopping down on your bed.

Arthur watched your body sprawled on the mattress, your chest heaving softly as you caught your breath.

“You know what's funny?”, He asked suddenly, unbuckling his belt slowly. He wasn't sure why he was telling you this now, but he felt like he could be honest with you, that you would understand. “Hm?”, You hummed, leisurely moving on the bed into a comfortable position.

“I came here tonight to do something stupid too.”, He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. “I have a gun in my pocket… in my jacket”

He stepped out of his pants, only wearing his white briefs, his dick straining against the almost see through cotton.

He looked down at your body, his eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and intensity. “Fuck Arthur…” You spoke softly, spreading your legs. He watched you, his eyes locked onto the invitation. 

 “You see?”, He whispered, slowly crawling between your thighs. “We're both fucked up.”, He muttered, fumbling with his wallet, Who would have ever thought that he'd ever actually need that condom that had been sitting there for years now. (Condoms expire, be careful). He struggled a little with putting it on but in the end he managed. 

You watched him, eyes hazy with lust. “I guess we are.”, You murmured. Finally he positioned himself at your entrance, his tip pressing against your folds. “But right now, I don't want to be alone with my thoughts.”, he murmured, his eyes searching yours. 

“Can I be inside you, instead of inside my head?” He asked, his voice filled with a desperate need. you nodded, spreading your legs further. “Have you ever done this?”, You asked softly. “No.”, He admitted, his face slightly flushed with both arousal and nervousness.

“But... I want to, with you.”, His hands were shaking slightly as he positioned himself, the flushed head of his cock pressing against your entrance, at least he hoped it was. “Is this right?” He asked and you nodded, moving your hips to get him in the right position, he bit his lip nervously: “I'm no gentleman, F/N. I might hurt you…” A content hum came from your lips: “It's okay...I'm not sure how to do this either…” you murmured, reassuring him.

He let out a shaky laugh at your words, feeling a sudden connection in your shared inexperience. “Great.”, He murmured with a slight smirk: “A clown and a high goddess trying to figure out sex. What could go wrong?” He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a clumsy kiss as he began to slowly push into you.

He moved at a painstakingly slow pace, allowing you to adjust to his size. His forehead rested against yours as he whispered: “Tell me if it hurts, okay…if I'm doing something wrong…” you hummed, nodding gently, your eyes half lidded: “O-okay.”

He pushed in a little further, feeling your tight cunt squeeze around him.

“Fuck.”, He hissed quietly, controlling his movements with effort. “God, you're tight…”, His voice was strained as he continued to push inside you slowly, inch by inch, you had time. “Is this... is this okay?” You nodded, moaning softly. “You're doing great.” 

He smiled slightly at your words, feeling a sense of relief and pride. Once he was fully inside you, he paused, letting you adjust to the feeling of being filled by him. 

He peppered clumsy kisses along your jawline and neck, murmuring soft words of praise. “You're doing so well, F/N…Feels so good…”, He whispered hoarsely, leaving little bite marks.

you whimpered at his kind, hoarse voice and his teeth diving into your skin. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he began to move his hips in small, gentle circles, trying to ease you into the rhythm, testing out what feels good for him and you. He thanked his nerves because if he wasn't this nervous he would have come already.

“Can you look at me?” he asked, his voice low and soothing. He needed to see your pretty face: “Does this feel good for you?”

A soft nod. “You feel great…I'll tell you if I don't like something.”, You murmured, moaning and whimpering, as he moved inside you.

He nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips as he focused on your pleasure. “Fair enough.”, He murmured, increasing his pace slightly. His thrusts grew deeper, more purposeful, but still a little clumsy. 

He gasped softly at each inward push, reveling in the exquisite tightness engulfing him.

You moaned with each erratic thrust, you weren't the most vocal but it was clear that he was making you feel good.

He continued his rhythm as best as he could, watching your face intently.

The fact that he was bringing you pleasure was doing something to him, making him feel wanted and needed. It was the most intimate connection he'd ever experienced. “God, listen to those little noises…”, He whispered, his control slipping further.

“Arthur.”, You whimpered softly. He groaned at the sound of his name on your lips, his hips bucking slightly as he fought to maintain his pace. “Should I stop?”, He asked, his voice strained, “Does this feel good? Or should I go slower? Faster?” He asked. “just-”, You gasped softly: “Keep going.” He nodded, a sense of determination in his eyes. “Okay.”, He whispered, picking up the pace just a bit. His breath came in ragged gasps as he focused on your reactions, making sure you were enjoying it as much as he was.

“Use your... your hand too…” His eyebrows shot up in surprise at your suggestion, but he didn't waste any time. He reached down between your thighs and slowly began to rub his shaky fingers against your sensitive flesh, matching the rhythm of his hips. “Like this?”, He whispered, his voice hoarse. You nodded, hips stuttering. 

He could feel you getting closer to some unspoken edge as he continued his dual assault, his hips moving in erratic, deep thrusts, and his fingers rubbing clumsy circles around your most sensitive spot. 

“You feel so good.”, He whimpered, his voice laced with unspent passion. You seemed to blossom at his praise. He noticed the way you reacted to his words, your body tensing and arching slightly. It spurred him on, emboldening him to continue. 

“Come for me.” He whispered, his pace quickening just a touch. “Show me how good I'm making you feel.” He asked softly, his eyes locked onto yours as his fingers worked faster and his hips thrust deeper. “Please.”, He urged, his own control slipping as he felt your tighten around him. His movements became more urgent as he felt his own release building.

With another shaky, erratic trust from him, you came, spasming and whimpering softly. He let out a shuddering groan as he felt your climax, your inner walls clenching tightly around his dick. The sensation pulled him over the edge and he thrust deep one last time, releasing inside you with a shudder. “Fuck, F/N.”, He panted, his body trembling as he finished.

He stayed inside you for a moment, savoring the feeling of your connection and the aftershocks of your shared pleasure. Slowly, he pulled out and rolled off to the side, pulling you into his arms. “Are you okay?”, He asked softly, brushing a strand of H/C hair away from your face. 

You hummed contently, feeling pleasantly tired: “I feel good.” You murmured, you could still feel the substances coursing through your system but your words were genuine.

He smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his body: “Good.” he said, his thumb tracing circles on your bare hip as he pulled as blanket over you. 

“I- uhm…I'll get rid of the condom.”, He awkwardly rose from the mattress, the bed creaking as he moved. 

He awkwardly waddled into your bathroom, throwing the used rubber into the bin before returning to your side.

He hesitated before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple: “Want to… snuggle?” He asked shyly.

You nodded, you could feel the mattress dip beside you and the blanket being lifted.

 “This is... weird”, You mumbled. He chuckled softly, pulling you closer, spooning you tenderly. “Yeah, it is.”, He agreed. “But weird in a good way, right?” He paused, he couldn't see your face. “I mean, we just had sex and now we're cuddling. That's pretty weird for me too.” 

You chuckled softly and he could feel his body relax. “Weird in a good way, yes.”, You murmured, tracing your hand over his shirt. He smiled at your touch, feeling a sense of contentment he hadn't known in a long time. “You know, I never thought I'd ever be cuddling someone I didn't have to pay.”. He admitted softly. “But this feels... nice.”

He paused, then asked gently: “Are you still high?” his voice was laced with care. “Yeah… but it's wearing off.”, You murmured. He nodded, a flicker of concern crossing his features. “How are you feeling now that it's fading?”, He asked quietly, his fingers lightly playing with a strand of your hair. He wanted to know if you might regret your shared intimacy once fully sober. “Better than normally. A lot better.”, You murmured.

A slow smile spread across his face at your words, relief flooding through him. “Well, that's a good sign.”, He hummed, pulling you a little closer. His hand continued its gentle exploration of your hair, finding strangely soothing.

“You...you did good.”, You spoke softly. He blinked in surprise at your quietly spoken praise, a faint blush coloring his sunken cheeks. “Thanks.”, He replied softly. He swallowed hard, feeling a bit awkward yet again: “I mean, uh, you came, right?” You chuckled softly, a pretty sound. “I did come, yeah.”, You murmured, nestling your face against the crook of his neck. 

Arthur let out a proud hum, the deep sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against you:  “I'm glad.” He spoke softly.

He was silent for a moment, his expression softening as he played mindlessly with your hair: “You know…Life sucks. But not when I'm with you.”

---

Thank you for reading! :)

Masterlist

[fleckssadgirl]

𝓑𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓞𝓾𝓽𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮

Arthur Fleck x Reader

Warning: Gross amounts of fluff.

Enjoy this Christmas Ficlet.

𓆑𓆑𓆑

You hated the cold.

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

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

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

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

"Hey Arthur!"

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

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

"H-have you had a good holiday?"

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

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

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

"How has yours been?"

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

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

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

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

He looked down the hall, and back to you.

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

You grinned.

"Yeah, who else, silly?"

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

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

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

"Sorry." He barely whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for a nice Christmas Eve.

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

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

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

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

The butterflies returned.

"Hi."

"Hey, Arthur."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

You could swear you could hear your heart beating.

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

You looked at him with deep concern.

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

He clutched his chest, taking a few deep breaths.

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

You smiled at him, your eyes gleaming with warmth.

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

He nodded and let you pull him into the apartment.

𓋹

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

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

"Jazz fan, huh?"

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

"Yeah, I guess so."

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

And the company certainly made it better.

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

"Why are you always so nice?"

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

"Because I like you."

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

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

"Y-you d-do?"

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

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

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

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

"Oh, Arthur. I know you do."

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

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

You wanted another one.

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

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

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

"Wow, Arthur I had no i-"

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

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

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

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

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

He chucked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With a wink, he closed the door behind him.

Merry Christmas indeed.

𓆑𓆑𓆑

Hope you like!

Have the most wonderful Christmas!

<3 Lyddie

[h-yalexaaaa]

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 14

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

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

Word Count: 3438

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

“What do you think he’ll say?”

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

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

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

You reached out and stroked Arthur’s cheek. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bruce Wayne,” Arthur said. 

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

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

“Alone.” 

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

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

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

You waited. 

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

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

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

“I’m gonna go say ‘hi.’”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Second of all…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d never even ridden on an airplane. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit. Not good. Your heart started to race. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good.

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

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

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

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

Terrified…of you. Of the both of you. 

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

Even if he was a Wayne. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could you have let this happen? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t deserve to be loved.

You’re defective.

You’re worthless.

You’re awful. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said. 

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

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

“But, Arthur, I-”

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

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

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

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

xx ghastella

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Subway Obsessions Arthur’s POV ch2

Arthur Fleck POV x Fem!Reader

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: Chapter 2 of the Subway Obsessions series from Arthurs POV. Arthur can’t stop thinking about Y/N since the night he was first able to talk to her. He endlessly retraces his steps, hoping to run into her once more, to see the woman he fantasizes about night and day, to make those fantasies a reality.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, oral (m and f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, breeding, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, praise, begging, mentions of violence, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of mental disorders, mentions of self-harm (past), stalking, swearing, obsession, D/S implications, self-doubt, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff, aftercare

A/N: It's a long one guys! I couldn't help myself!!! I love the stories from Arthur’s POV! Finally, some good stuff here!! I would also like to say that the duality of these stories when read from either POV, complement each other so well. It’s crazy to see the dynamics in how they see one another. Both carry self-doubt but see the other as a powerful and confident creature. Seeing the best in each other and the worst in themselves. I hope they find solace in each other to see their own true potential and know they are both loved and worthy of loving! And as always, I welcome tips, ideas, comments, and criticisms, but please be nice. Cheeers!!

Word Count: 10.7k

SERIES: Subway Obsessions

CHAPTER 2: For Him

Today had been long and depressing as it so quite often is. Arthur found it difficult not to allow the weight of everything to break him down. He often relapsed back to those restless nights where he would play out scenarios of happiness and content within his mind, diluting the day and its stressors. He had let his life and everyone in it beat him down mercilessly, inhumanely. Today was like every other, people looking down on him. He knew he could be off putting in stressful situations. No one understood or cared to understand why he laughed in those times of stress or heightened emotions. No one cared. The problem with this city. Lack of funds, lack of resources, beat the next person below you even further. A stranger treating him no better than the dirt under their shoe. He found solace and respite in one fantasy. One he played out over and over in his mind until he thought it reality. One he had tried to make a reality for days gone by now.

Things have changed during this time. A confidence growing within him as realizations came to fruition. Although he remained timid, he was no longer so afraid. The city was rife with unrest, he wasn’t the only one anymore. Not the only one shunned by this terrible place, pushed aside, forgotten, and laughed at. Protestors grew in numbers by the day, unwilling to stand by while injustice took place. It emboldened him to take action. At least now, he had protection. A weapon he was given by a colleague at work. The fantasy woman he so often wished to see had almost suggested it herself. He replayed her words in his mind however few they had exchanged. “I had to buy mace and stuff to protect myself” he thought he would end a life without question to protect her. The past few days, a blur in his mind when thinking about her. How her hair cascaded over her shoulders, how her chest rose and fell as lights streamed across her face while the subway made its crawl through the city’s endless tunnels. Her skin looked soft; in his mind, he could feel her. He imagined tracing his fingers over her stomach, tickling her, and kissing her deeply. His thoughts were mostly innocent, but she stirred emotions in him he had never felt. Not like this, this was real. She was real. He hoped. “Y/N” he mused. Her name lingering vibrantly in his mind since the day he finally got to speak to her, rolling off his tongue with ease. Salivating at the taste of it as he spoke it into being like a mantra, hoping she would appear.

Day after day, he wandered the stations platform, where she would board and depart without catching a glimpse. He had feared he had once again created something so perfect that wasn’t tangible. He choked up at the thought, pushing it away. But it had to be, right? She was kind, beautiful, not scared of him, not annoyed, not hateful, understanding, peaceful. She was perfect. Everything this monster of a place was not. She was like an escape from reality, a light at the end of the tunnel. It absolutely seemed too good to be true. Yet, without fail, he continued on, always and forever, searching for her face in a crowd. She was a bright, colorful flower in a dull and grey city he felt so alone in. If he concentrated hard enough, he thought he could still smell her on him. Had he imagined that, too? He was always so unsure of his own thoughts, not ever fully willing to trust them. His heart ached for so many reasons, but this new fascination he had with the woman with the pink coat had him practically comatose. He spent endless nights after wandering the subway at home sitting on the couch smoking cigarettes back-to-back, contemplating what he would even do if he were to see her again. Even though he did every time he closed his eyes. He wanted her there with him physically. To hold him, to touch him tenderly and lovingly. He imagined her caress. Her small hands, soft, and supple. Lingering on his skin. The mere thought made him shiver, goosebumps crawled up his arms, and hairs stood on end.

Tonight, he would once again try to find her. He would search endlessly, every train car, every seat. As he did nightly, hoping to find a trace of her existence. Wanting so badly for his fantasies to play out in reality, but he would settle just to bask in her energy. She fueled him daily. The thought of her, making him want to wake up in the morning. He never wanted to live to old age, but he thought with her, it might not be so bad. His body longed for her, and his heart yearned for her love and attention. A deep sense of emptiness held him as he thought of her, wishing, hoping to have her, to be with her. Before bed, he would pleasure himself to the image of her smile, of her peeking at him through her hair and blushing. She had a hold on him, a power he would happily relinquish if she were to ever ask. He would drop at her feet and beg to look in her direction. She made him feel small, and he feared her rejection. A fear that nearly debilitated him as he walked toward the doors of the subway train car.

A gust of wind hit him in the face, a cold slap that immediately brought him back to reality. His heart raced as he stepped through the doors. Upon entry to the train car, he immediately noticed some not so friendly characters, so he carried on, careful not to draw their attention to him. He’d almost forgotten he had his clown makeup on. He straightened his suit, opened the cabin door, and headed to the next train car, searching for that friendly face he couldn’t stop dreaming of. The day he saw her, something in him changed. He had vowed to protect her, a promise he would keep no matter what. Even if her affections weren’t returned. She was the only person besides Gary he could think that has ever shown him any sort of kindness. A stranger who was willing to sit with him on the train, share space, and speak politely and openly. A gesture he did not take lightly. He only wished more people could be like her, but feared for her in a place like Gotham. Her soft features and calm, loving voice that enveloped him in a warmth akin to a hug. He felt the need for her swell within him. His heartbeat quickened as he tried to slow his breathing.

All six train cars were empty. Not empty of people, but empty of the one person he had hoped or cared to see. He counted the bench seats that lined the aisle right before the last section of the train. He had remembered where she sat last time, methodically mapping the seats out in his mind then transferring it to his journal later that evening after watching her figure shrink in the distance as the train sped away when she got off. He often thought of that moment, thinking she had turned around to come back to him. That she had changed her mind or had a second thought, something to say left unsaid. The need to know what those words may have possibly been weighed on his mind heavily. Often imagining conversations that led to her leaning in and kissing him, asking him to go to his place or to hers. He created entire storylines in his mind as he sat in the same seat in the same car he did every night. The train was dark as it traveled the tunnels only dimly lit by the amber fluorescents that buzzed above, an occasional tunnel marker light or platform stop illuminating within the cabin. Shadows stretched across the floor, outlining the windows, seats, and poles closest to the lights. Stop after stop, and the last of humanity exited to the platforms. Soon, the subway platforms and train cars were near vacant. By the time the train car reached platform 17, it was empty except for Arthur. Two more stops. His mind warbled. He inhaled sharply, patiently awaiting the arrival of platform 19.

The breaks could be heard squealing to a halt as the loud speaker bleated above. A ‘ding’ rang out, then an electric voice chimed ‘platform 19 almost inaudibly, but Arthur knew the platform at this point. The doors opened with a hiss as the pressure exchange caused wind to billow into the car and blow past his face. He couldn’t see anyone as the train stopped. Maybe a couple of people huddled in the far corner, not wanting to be seen. As all the doors opened, he steadied himself, sitting up straight and trying to peak his head around the rows of poles and seats. A gasp caught in his throat like a lump, and he found himself sweltering and out of breath. It was her! He watched as she carefully scanned the seats. Just like last time, he thought. I can’t believe she’s real! He wanted to rush to her before she even saw him and grab her, spin her around, dip her, and plant a passionate kiss. She instilled a feeling of lust within him so powerful that just the thought of her looking in his direction and smiling was enough to make his manhood weep for her.

Crossing aisle after the aisle, she locked eyes with him. A smile brimmed on her lips. Instead of running to her, he flashed a friendly smile and waved her over, offering a seat as he had done before. He watched as she made her way towards him. Observing everything about her, taking in her beauty. He saw how her hair swayed down to her waist, blowing in her face as the wind blew around her. She was a fever dream, her beauty unfathomable, and he felt himself melting, his mind, in hysterics. She was…So. Beautiful. Almost otherworldly he thought, too beautiful for this world, too kind.

She wore shiny black knee-high boots. A light-colored sweater that looked fuzzy and warm. It exposed her midriff just enough to see a peek of skin above a black skirt that would rise and fall above her knees as she walked. The doors of the train clicked shut around her as she approached. A strong breeze blew past her knees, blowing her skirt forward where he sat. He watched as the wind blew up her skirt, exposing her legs and barely getting a peek at her panties. White, he thought they must be, but he only got a quick look. He couldn’t help how his body reacted at the sight. He bit his lip to keep his thoughts from being so overtly exposed on his face. Fuck, she saw me look, he thought. But how could he not? His face flushed and he felt heat in his cheeks but played coyly. She walked so gracefully, never missing a step. The train doors had closed, enclosing them in together. The subway had started its decent into the tunnels as it did that first fateful night. How might it turn out tonight? Arthur pondered which of his fantasies he liked the most. But his favorite of all ended with him cradled in her chest. Her holding him, accepting everything he was and was not, and loving him despite that.

He was surprised that she seemed happy to see him. After he hadn’t seen her for days, he thought she might be avoiding him, that her being nice was just who she was, but that she didn’t care to see him again or worse. He had only hoped she would show up today. He felt an electricity between them last time. A connection previously thought unattainable, especially with someone who looks like her and talks like her. She was kind, comforting, sweet, and unmistakably gorgeous. Interrupting the thought process of ruminating, he stood grabbing a rail and extended his hand out to her, being the gentleman his mother raised him to be. He offered to help her sit down, hopefully next to him. To his surprise, she obliged, happily taking his hand in hers. He immediately helped her to the inner seat to protect her if need be. Anyone would have to go through him first. A hand on her lower back to help guide her wasn’t too forward, was it? He thought. He wanted so badly to touch her, to feel her warmth.

She’s here, she’s really here. His mind was spinning, and she’s next to me. She touched my hand. They were as soft as he had imagined, small, dainty, and warm. Her fingers brushed his palm as she let go to sit. Tickling him, making him sweat under his collar. His suit felt tight all of a sudden. Her mere presence next to him put him at ease. She was peace. His muscles relaxed, his face un-tensed. Shoulders dropping, jaw unclenching. She was the embodiment of tranquility. A drop of cold water on his tongue in the desert sun, and he was so, so thirsty.

When he sat next to her, he could feel his body slide against hers, brushing her shoulders hips and thighs. The rest of the train car was cold, but being next to her created warmth. He relished in the feeling of being next to her, subtly touching her with his body every time the train car swayed the right way, making him wish for a bumpy ride if only to bump into her. He sighed with content, breathing deeply, smelling her perfume, making him dizzy and intoxicated. How he would like to just devour her if she would let him. Consume her entire essence, letting her wash over him. Bathing in her existence if only for a short time.

She turned to face him as he did her. Their legs, meeting somewhere in the middle of the seat. Her face was so light, unburdened by the nature of evil plaguing the city. He envied her in a way he could only express with want. He wanted her. Arthur became aware once more that he was in full clown makeup. He felt silly, no clown pun intended. She didn’t know, so he thought if he didn’t explain himself, she would be put off, turned off, scared, or worse, wouldn’t like him. He found the courage to address the metaphorical ‘elephant in the room’. “I’m a clown” he chuckled sheepishly and broke eye contact with her, looking down. “I work as a clown for a talent agency," pointing to the makeup that covered his face. He continued on. “But my dream is to become a comedian. I want to bring laughter and joy to the world” he stated this confidently but was unsure how she would feel about it. It was his truth, what he had been told from such a young age, something positive in this never-ending barrage of torment. He punched down on himself, thinking, why would I say that? That was so stupid. He examined her face, hoping for a positive reaction. Needing the affirmation that this was ok, that she was ok with him like this. That she accepted it. She had already been smiling, but her lips curled up further, eyes closing slightly, creating lines on each side. “Arthur!” She belted out cheerfully, shoving his shoulder playfully. A welcome sound. It's so bright and enchanting, like a song. Her voice was pure poetry. The feeling of her hand on his suit, the gentle push, he wanted to reach his shoulder and touch the same spot, to relive the feeling. “I didn’t know you wanted to be a comedian! I love that! And I love the makeup!” Her hand lightly grabbed his leg in a playful motion. Her touch sending shivers up his leg, he stammered, needing to catch his breath. She loved it? Amazing, he thought. How can someone be this perfect? How could she exist here? The urge to keep her close grew ever stronger. Not anticipating her surprise and cheerfulness to his declaration, he sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. He thought, ah, it's nothing, really. She’s just being nice, but what a feeling to be heard and to be validated in that moment. It meant everything to him. “Yeah, I uh, have a book I write jokes in and everything! It’s got a lot of personal stuff and stuff from my own life, I think that’s what makes the best jokes” He felt himself immediately opening up to her, exposing his soul. Being in her presence made him feel alive. He felt he could be vulnerable with her, and she wouldn’t hurt him like everyone else has. He really hoped it was true. As much as he wanted her to see him as he wanted her to see him, he really wanted her to see who him for who he really was and despite all of that, take him into her heart. For her to be just as vulnerable with him as he was with her.

She and him started genuinely talking. She asked him questions about his life. She seemed to want to really know him on a deep and personal level. He could feel the emotion in her voice. When he spoke, she watched so attentively, pausing to let him speak and fully engaging, never breaking eye contact. She was so intimidating, he thought. She sounded so smart when she spoke, and the things she said were so kind and caring. She listened to him, hanging on his every word. He spoke to her about his diagnosis, and she met it with empathy and support. He spoke about how he was adopted and didn’t grow up with a father. In turn, she spoke about her parent’s abusing drugs and getting taken away for neglect. He couldn’t believe some of the things she confessed to him, baring her soul, unafraid he might abandon her or reject her, a fear he had. She seemed healed, and he admired that of her. To be able to move on from such trauma was hard work, something Arthur had still been trying to manage himself. He thought her a good influence. Her voice soothed the innermost parts of his affection starved mind, re-quenching him as if she were a monsoon and he were a draught. Perfection incarnate, an impossible being. In his eyes, she was a goddess! This woman who accepted him, who felt like home, felt safe, like he could trust her. How could he be so lucky? He thought to himself. To find someone like him, an extension of his own soul. It’s as if they’d always known each other. The conversations were effortless and easy. He could listen to her talk all day about anything.

Their conversation continued on for what only seemed like a short time. He was enamored with her, and time stopped ticking in her presence. Their conversations flowed. He genuinely had so much in common with her, he could feel himself constantly smiling through the less serious parts of their conversation. They connected through stories and experiences, goals and ambitions, and their favorite foods and movies. One subject led into the next and so on and so forth. He watched as she spoke so vivaciously, how her chest would rise when taking breaths between sentences and how her necklace lay upon her chest. He imagined her in nothing but the necklace. He watched as the lights would speed outside the subway windows, streaming across her face, lighting up her features, and creating a shadow of her onto himself. Her face, so soft. Her nose, small and cute. He watched how her lips moved across her teeth. She was effervescent. Something just so beautiful and ethereal. She was glowing. Every time she looked in his eyes, he could see light from within, how she sparkled. He watched as she would flip her hair and twirl a single lock between her fingers so sweetly. Her perfume, filling the air every time she moved, it was intoxicating. He found himself inhaling deeply each time it wafted his direction. He would forever associate this smell with her. She would be nostalgia on a bad day for him.

Her laugh stirred within him, swimming in his head and vibrating on his skin. He couldn’t believe she laughed at his jokes. He would watch as her eyes closed and her nose crinkled as a raucous laugh roared from her lungs. She was amazing. And she laughed at his jokes! He tried to make her laugh as much as possible because every time she did, she would grab his leg. Sometimes, he did it without trying. That was the best. He could see that she was really a sweet girl, marred by life but full of hope nonetheless. She was angelic, sexy, pure of heart, smart, and touching his leg again. He could hardly think when she did that. He just knew he wanted it more. For her to move her hand up higher, everywhere. All of her, for himself. He wouldn’t let the world get to her anymore. His obsession and lust, now so much more complex, he loved her truly. He wasn't sure if he could express that when he wanted her so badly. His mind started wandering. He felt an ache deep within his groin.

She crossed a leg, catching his knee in a long brush. Her upper thigh was warm and inviting. She was gazing into his eyes, wide and innocent, with a coy smile as she spoke. He wanted to touch her back, to feel the warmth of her thigh again for himself. To touch her leg and squeeze, to see her reaction. Could he make her blush? The loud speaker went off, somewhere in the recess of his mind did it register. He was caught in her gaze when she broke eye contact, shooting up in her seat onto her knees next to him. He turned to look and see what she was looking at; it wasn't her stop he could tell that much, but he didn’t think either of them had been paying attention this whole time either. They had been so enthralled in one another, conversating and having such a wonderful time getting to know each other, he thought. She turned in her seat, no doubt checking the marquee board behind them.

Arthur went to turn back, but when he did, she had spun right into his face. The feeling of her soft fuzzy sweater swept across his skin, tickling his nose and lips. She smelled so good up close, he thought. Her breasts pressed into either side of his face, and he could feel himself swell. His manhood now throbbing, pressing hard against the seam on his pants. So hard it hurt. He ached for her. He reached up to grab her, afraid the train movements may make her fall, so he held her there. Inhaling deeply and burying his face in her chest, feeling both breasts on his cheeks as he buried himself further into her cleavage, pulling her closer. He wanted to nuzzle himself there forever. She was a safe space for him. He felt closeness in this moment. The heat that came off her body enough to make him perspetrate, perhaps it was the blood rushing through his veins. She made him quite literally hot under the collar. He cherished this moment, not knowing if he’d ever get another. His hand was at the small of her back slowly creeping up. Lacing his fingers under the sweaters fabric and touching her back. He remarked to himself how soft she was, just how incredibly soft she was. He wanted to touch every inch of her body and run his fingers over every curve. She was tantalizing, a taste on the tongue, pure honey. Mmm, and so sweet. Just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone, only mere seconds. He loosened his grip, and she slid back down onto her knees in front of him. Scared of what she would say, what she would do. Would she be upset? He definitely took advantage of that moment, but would she know? And would it offend her. He hoped not, regretting his actions. But in the moment, it felt so right. It was everything he needed.

Arthur couldn’t deny the visions that plagued his mind whenever he would day dream, especially with her here now. Looking at her as she kneeled before him admiring her natural beauty, he could feel her breath. She was so close. He couldn’t help but also see her how he thought about her when he was alone. How he had imagined her naked and on her knees. When he fantasized about her, he always started off innocent, kissing, heavy petting, and sweet pillow talk. But as he went on, as his cock got stiffer and he approached his end, the thoughts would change. They became more sexual, more deviant. He would Imagine her in the throes of passion tits bouncing as she took advantage of him, grinding him while she screamed his name. But truly, if he could ever even get the chance to touch her intimately, he would treat her like a princess, as he thought she should be. He would make sure to meet her every need and more before he met his own if he could help it.

Her face was flush red. she stammered, breaking eye contact and began apologizing to him profusely. Something he thought so odd, there was nothing she could ever apologize for. She frantically spoke, unease and uncertainty crossed her face. He felt the sudden urge to quell her unease, to show her it was ok. Surely, he did not mind at all. He had surmised her reasoning and accepted it. In fact, he only wished the moment could last forever. “Sorry, sor-sorry, I didn’t mean to. I mean, I-I completely forgot, I wasn’t paying atte-.” Without thought or hesitation, Arthur reached his hands to her. Gently holding her face in his palms and directing her gaze back to his. He wanted to show her it was ok, to stop apologizing. The only way he could think how was to touch her. His mind hadn’t gone past that point, only knowing it wanted to put her at ease, to show her kindness like she had for him. She moved with him so easily, he thought, following his lead and every move.

A pout’ look came over her face. Her lips parted; eyebrows raised as she gave him a pleading look. He slowly pulled her closer, tilting her head up, looking into her eyes. She looked back with enlarged pupils. Shallow breaths escaping her lips with labored breathing. Her lips, looking so soft and shiny, a muted blushy pink. He used his thumbs to feel her lips, brushing over them tenderly, wanting to know how soft and plushy they were. In that moment something came over him and he said fuck it. He slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her in closer. She closed her eyes as he neared. Pure joy, he thought. Butterflies rushed within his core, his heart leaping into his throat as he began kissing her. Pressing his lips to hers, inhaling through his nose, unsure of how to proceed but his body naturally took over. He felt every strand of hair that ran through his fingers like silk threads. He wrapped his fingers in it, fully immersing himself in the kiss. She was kissing him back. A thought that quickly surfaced and disappeared, a mere confirmation, his mind reassuring him. But she was kissing him back, and passionately. She tasted so refreshing. He could feel her body relax under his grasp. He felt her warmth as she pressed herself to him, breathing heavily through breathy kisses. He kissed her slowly, passionately, tracing every tooth in her mouth, rubbing every inch of her tongue with his. He was pleasantly surprised when she took the initiative and really got into it. Beginning to remind him of those racier fantasies he had about her as he so needily pleasured himself. He could feel his length twitch within his slacks. She was exploring him with her hands, he felt every touch, every caress across his arms, chest, neck, and head. The feeling lingered, leaving his skin buzzing, electrified under her touch. The power she had over him was remarkable, from the first day he watched her on the subway to this very moment. He was enthralled.

She was panting heavily and moaning between kisses, pressing herself into him with each kiss. He was overwhelmed by her fierceness but happily welcomed it nonetheless. It was literally what he would dream about. Everything he had hoped and wished for about her was coming to fruition. The thoughts, the fantasies. He felt emotional and immediately attached. Of course, he had already decided he would protect her, but that meant something more now. He thought he would die for her, he loved her, and he only felt that love grow with her whether she was in his presence or not. Her teeth clanked against his, and she let out a giggle. The cutest sound he thought. He wanted to explore her as well. Not breaking contact with his lips to hers, he began softly roaming her body. He felt the softness of her sweater as he ran his hand down the front, catching a finger on either side on each breast as he went. He subtly began creeping his fingers just underneath the front of her sweater, feeling how soft her skin was, how hot to the touch. He wanted so badly just to paw helplessly at her breasts. She probably wouldn’t have minded, but he still second guessed himself. Even with her right in front of you kissing you, moaning, touching you, you’re still scared! He thought. He was. Truth be told, he had never gone this far with a woman, any woman, ever. No one gave him the time of day, let alone would have considered it. Often, the reason he would resort to creating these loving and fulfilling scenarios in his mind. Always wishing, always hoping, but never knowing it for himself. He only prayed he could be enough. What if she didn’t accept him, didn’t like his body? All things he was self-conscious of. But he wanted to focus on the now, focus on her, and put those thoughts to rest. Deep down, he knew he would be safe in her presence, accepted, loved. He could feel it. She had so much love to give, just like him.

His hands continued to explore; despite his apprehension, he made his way to her breasts. So squishy, he thought, so bouncy and squeezable. He began to sweat, feeling her nipples harden underneath his touch through the fabric of her bra. His hand, running from the back of her head to her lower back, pulling her into him. He lightly danced his fingers over her skin beneath her sweater, hearing her gasp at his touch. She playfully twirled her fingers in his green locks, tugging ever so gently. He felt her pulling at his collar and sliding her hands over his shoulder under his overcoat. He quickly went to shrug it off, reaching in front with one arm to pull off the other. Hastily tossing it aside. He wanted to leave no inch of her body untouched. He was pawing at her furiously, tugging, groping, mirroring her energy and veracity of the moment. Agents of desire and longing. Slaves to their own lust.

She moved in her seat, putting her knee between his legs as she continued her passionate assault, sending a shiver shooting through his core to his groin. She slowly and carefully nudged her knee right next to his throbbing manhood. He could feel her press against it every time she shifted to kiss, or the train changed its direction. He squeezed his legs together, pressing his swollen length to her leg, holding it there. He could feel the heat emanating from between her legs as she straddled his leg. Rocking ever so slightly back and forth on him. She sucked his tongue, pulling it into her mouth, sealing the kiss with a bite to his lip. It hurt, but only a little, not being inside her hurt more, he thought. His mind was fuzzy. All he could do was pull away and look at her, beg her to help him. His cock throbbing so hard now she must feel it, any more movement and he might burst. He looked at her face, level with his, and smeared with red and white paint. A bit on her nose, a bit on her cheeks, but a large blurred smear covered her lips and chin. She smiled with doe eyes as he let out a gasp that came out like a whisper. She looked longingly into his eyes, a hand caressed his face, tracing the outlined smile from the paint. She fit so perfectly against him, his body, morphed right into hers. Her hand, cradling his face felt like the purest form of love and compassion.

In the intensity of passion, Arthur slid his hands toward her back side as she continued kissing him and straddling him, rocking her hips as she did. He knew she wanted him; her body gave her away. He slowly and lovingly caressed her, moving his hands underneath her skirt and grabbing a hold of each cheek. He squeezed the flesh through his fingers, holding tightly and encouraging her to rock back and forth harder, gently pulling her forward and moving her back. His fingers closed in on her middle, feeling the fabric of her panties. He was unaware he was humming, a low moan building in his throat and falling from his lips. Her arms were wrapped around his neck when she threw her head back in a soft gasp, exposing her neck and collar bones. He began kissing her, not wanting to leave any spot untouched, unloved. Starting from behind her ear and working his way ever so lovingly down her neck, to her shoulders and collar bones back up her neck to her mouth. He saw how she reacted when he would kiss her on the neck and behind her ear, she would shiver, her moans got louder, breathier. He could feel her breasts heave against him with every inhale and exhale.

Not able to take it anymore, he pulled her away with a hand in a fistful of curls. He needed her not just romantically but intimately. The urge he felt well up within him skirted all doubt and worry. Animalistic instincts taking over. “Come on” he said through a whisper, firm yet encouraging. He wanted to move her to an area where he could have full access to her, all of her. If anything, just to give her more space to straddle him, although he hoped for so much more. He had played this out in his mind so many times in so many different ways. This was just one of them. One where he brings her to the bench seats, lays her down, and makes her cry out his name, however that came to be. Her face was so beautifully distorted by the smearing of his paint. She was a vision, something no artist could re-create.

She followed his lead. Once again, so willingly, so easily, as if she waited for his direction. Even in this moment, after all they had done, it still surprised him. He politely laid his suit coat down on the seats for her. The subway wasn't the most ideal place, pretty dirty surroundings. This was the best way to protect her in this moment. He hoped it was chivalrous. Ideally, he would want her at home in a bed, but anywhere with her was bliss, and he would accept whatever he was given. It was so hard for him to hold back. At this point, he couldn’t anymore. He wanted to consume her, infiltrate her soul, absorb her energy. He hungered for her in that moment as she sat upon his jacket looking at him so innocently. The lust he had for her brimming to the surface, unable to contain it.

He stepped forward, pushing himself between her legs, forcing them apart with his as she looked up at him. He stood over her, watching her and admiring her. He reached down, caressing her face and bringing her chin up with the lift of a finger. “You’re so beautiful” he leered at her, a sly smile crossing his lips. “So pretty. And such a good girl!” He meant it. No double meaning there, he loved her, loved that she was canonically good through and through. He chuckled unironically. Her voice broke, a light and soft sound, so comforting. “For you.” She said through a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear. A good girl for me. For me, he pondered. Two simple words, noting special about them on their own. But spoken together like this, and to him, he felt the weight of those words heavy on his mind. It sent him into an internal craze. All the validation, reassurance, and closeness he had sought, found in a two-word sentence. He thought about the word ‘belonging’ and what it had meant to most. Something he never truly had the pleasure of experiencing. The thought solidified an instant bond within him, dredging up emotions he didn’t know he had. For him. She was giving herself to him, fully and willingly… to him! Realization set in; he had no choice but to give himself to her as well. Not that he would ever choose otherwise. She was unequivocally his, as he was hers, and he would hold on for as long as humanly possible. “For me” He parroted back to her with purpose.

He felt her tugging on his pants, toying with the seam and running her fingers along the waistband, her fingers inside, just barely. Her arm brushed his bulge, and he felt it twitch once more. Creating a tent in his pants. She saw. He watched her glance down at him, then back up almost as if she was asking for him to reveal himself. He needed to hear her say it. He needed that confirmation from her. To hear her lips speak the words he had only imagined. “Tell me what you want Y/N” He spoke calmly and lovingly. He watched as she begged “Please”. He needed her to say it. Say it! She squirmed in her seat. Hastily pulling at his belt, she spoke once more. “Please, I want to taste you.” He never pictured her saying that. It was more than he could bare, almost bursting at the thought but wanting it just the same. He stepped forward, her face right at his beltline, watching as her eyes darted from his pants and back to his eyes pleadingly. “Be a good girl for me then”.

No sooner than the words left his lips was she stripping off his clothes, pulling them down. Moving steadily to undo the buttons on his pants and sliding down his underwear. He groaned as she slid the fabric over his tip. He had been so close for so long that he didn’t know how he would be able to hold back. His lust for her leaking from his body, staining his underwear with a wet spot. She did this in such a kind and loving way, so gentle. Her hands were so small wrapped around his cock, barely fitting her fingers around the girth. He watched as her eyes lit up upon first seeing his member. Hoping she would approve. One hand held him firm while the other playfully swirled around his tip playing with the mess he had made for her. Teasing his tip and rubbing his precum everywhere. She began licking him, up and down the side of his length, swirling her tongue around the tip. Her hands tight around his length, he could feel himself throbbing in her grip. He hissed through gritted teeth at the feeling. She seemed to revel in his reactions to her touch.

Her eyes peeked over a smile he could barely see as she opened her mouth and placed it upon him, taking him into her throat, forcing him into her. Her mouth was so small, she could barely fit his head in. Her throat, so small and tight, he could feel her slightly gag as he entered. Her esophagus, squeezing him, he didn’t know how much more he could take. She got into a rhythm, and he couldn’t help but rock his hips to meet her mouth. Gripping the back of her head with one hand guiding her in a forceful motion and lovingly massaging her neck and shoulder with the other. Shoving him as far into her throat as she could handle. Every time he reached the base, he let out a soft grunt. Her teeth would scrap ever so lightly against his bulbous head, every time hitting his most sensitive areas. It made him shiver and convulse. The sounds they made filled the cabin. Sucking, slurping , and his quiet hushed moans. She felt so good, her mouth so wet and warm and accommodating, he mused. Her eyes watched him as she gulped him down with ease. She narrowed her eyes in a smile that looked devious. He pushed in even harder, letting out a long sigh. Her hands rubbed his abdomen, chest, thighs, and buttocks as she pulled him into her. For him. He could feel the suction in her throat. Every time her mouth left his tip, it did so with a pop! She slurped him up, slobbering furiously and cleaning up her mess. Licking up and down his shaft as she looked him in his eyes. Lightly, she would rub and gently squeeze his balls. So many sensations running through his body he had never felt. She was so confident; he found himself lost in her.

He grabs her face once more, interrupting her, not wanting it to happen so quickly, but he felt close. It was his turn to taste her. He couldn’t wait, salivating at the thought. He stood her up with one finger under her chin. Such a doll, going along with his every motion without question or hesitation. He again kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. Groaning, his manhood throbbing, jutting into her abdomen. He wanted to see her, not just touch her, and taste her. He slid his hands under her sweater and lifts it off of her, placing it carefully on the bench next to her, making sure to be respectful of her things. He then returns to the kiss, pressing his lips to hers hard, breathing in through his nose hastily.

“Lay down”. He says while gesturing his hand towards his overcoat that lay crinkled on the bench seats behind her. She carefully laid on the seat, legs outstretched in front of her, propped up on her elbows. He felt her hungry gaze on him as he moved to the edge on the seat where her feet dangled freely. He stood between them reaching for her to pull her closer, he grabbed her legs and pulled her to the edge. He noted how she slid with ease on the velvet lining of his overcoat she sat upon. She was irresistible, laid out in front of him like that. He felt weak in the knees at the sight of her near naked torso, how the subway lights danced across her body, how her ample breasts shook with every jerk of the train, and how she looked at him. A burning hunger in her eyes, a desire for him. He didn’t want this moment to end, any of it. But he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. He didn’t want to. He smoothly moved his hands under her skirt, gripping her panties. She eagerly lifted her legs for him, helping him slide them off her smooth skin. Knowing how badly she wanted him too, seeing it in her actions only made him love her more. Her panties were silky and white with lace trim. A small pink bow adorned the lace in the middle. They were damp. He wanted to put them to his nose and breathe in deeply, to smell her, how wet he had made her. But he held back and placed them next to her.

He just wanted to be close to her, have her body and her face pressed against his. He leaned down between her knees to meet her with another kiss. He treated her so tenderly, he needed to. The fact she was exposing her whole self so intimately to him, how ready she was to give herself to him. He felt he not only needed, but wanted her to feel comfortable. When he got down to it, he didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted to satisfy her immensely. Nothing would bring him more joy. So, on he went, kissing her so softly and tenderly, slowly rolling his tongue in her mouth, savoring every second of the kiss. She moaned under him as he used his hand to slide down under her skirt. Feeling the heat rise from her groin. He could feel his fingers slide between her lips so smoothly, leading him right to her entrance where he stopped. Her body, trying to meet his hand, her hips trying to grind into him. The feeling of her wetness on his fingers, sticky, warm, divine. He felt the heat rise in his body, his heart racing, blood rushing, and mind spinning. He needed air and started loosening his collar, unbuttoning buttons, and removing his vest, carelessly tossing it on the seat behind her head before returning to the kiss.

Her hands were under his shirt rubbing his chest, softly stroking his skin. With his hand sliding up and down her wet slit, he slowly pushes his middle finger in, watching her reaction. Just glorious. Her face contorting in the most beautiful way. Moaning in his ear so delicately. He loved to watch how she moved around his finger, almost begging for more. Her whole body slowly grinded as if by nature. He moved his finger gently in and out, gathering her juices, then slid another one in, his ring finger. Slowly, he pushed them in and out, hearing her moan in ecstasy. He took his other hand and pulled her bra down to expose her breasts; he wanted to watch them bounce as he fucked her with his hand. He wanted to see them fully, her nipples peeked over the tops of the cups and he leaned in to tease them, to feel them in his mouth. How hard they were yet pliable enough to suck. His hand went faster, using his thumb to tickle her clit while he worked. He watched how her moans would change if he did something different. The louder and more out of breath she was, he knew she liked what he was doing. He studied her, not wanting to disappoint. Learning her bodies every twist and turn. What she liked, what she didn’t care for. He focused on her pure gratification. Seeing her lose herself in the pleasure he provided, gave him pleasure of his own. It was rewarding for him. A prize to make her so breathless and sweaty. She was so beautiful like this.

He descended from her breasts, fingers still inside her. Rubbing her legs as he went, tenderly caressing and kissing every scar, every fold. She was perfect. He got down on his knees, making sure to steady himself against the seats and gripped her things in front of his face. Everything, right before his eyes, he lustfully watched as his fingers slid in and out of her. How her wetness glistened on his fingers. He took them out, putting them in his mouth and licked off the fluid, cleaning every last drop off his fingers before disappearing underneath her skirt. She tasted so sweet, like biting into a ripe juicy peach. He licked his lips, savoring her essence like a drug. He worked his fingers inside her once more. He could feel her squeeze him from within. Writhing against his force. He could smell her essence, sweet and mouthwatering. He went in to taste. Licking his tongue slowly up from where his fingers penetrated her, taking his time. He sucked her lips and licked her clit, sucking on it softly. Moans and gasps erupted from her mouth. He could feel her arch her back pushing her pelvis into his face. Suddenly he felt her hands in his hair, gripping and pulling him in closer. It made him want to do it harder, better! For her, to make her feel good. He only wished he could make her feel as good as she made him feel. It seemed an impossible feat. But he was fully dedicated to her pleasure, not thinking about anyone or anything else in this moment. Not where they are, not where they're going. Nothing but bringing her happiness. He continued playfully sucking her clit, flicking it with his tongue. It made her grip his hair tighter, pull him closer. “Fuuuck” she moaned pulling him in harder. His face buried in her core, he couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, no consolation at all. His nose was buried in her mound and his mouth was sucking her clit while his hands continued their job.

The bell chimes and doors opening hadn’t stopped them for a while now, neither seeming to care. But Arthurs attention was quickly returned to reality when he heard the distant chatter of loud voices. He suddenly ceased his actions, standing up and holding her down. He hadn’t considered what would, or could happen if they were caught. This was not good. Arthur held still, not drawing attention and watching as they neared. Approaching their train car, his stomach dropped, and time stood still for a moment. A voice rang in his ears “No, please” she begged in a broken moan underneath him, trying to pull him back down to her. He whispered to her with a single finger in front of his lips "shhh", looking in her eyes, hoping neither of them pulled attention to themselves with the way he was making her moan so loudly just moments ago. Her body seized movement underneath him, realizing the weight of the situation, and held steadfast. He watched as her eyes followed the sounds as they passed. A group of drunk guys who walked past the subway windows without ever looking over. They passed in a hurry, leaving the platform before the doors closed and the train moved once more.

His attention was immediately back to her. The way she held herself for him, quietly anticipating his direction. How undeniably taken with her he was. Once the train began its descent once more, Arthurs hands began sliding up her abdomen, settling on her ample breasts. The warmth in his hands as he continued massaging and lightly caressing made him spasm. He leaned in, enveloping her in another kiss. She deserved it. She deserved everything. She leaned up, meeting his lips with the pressure of her own, pulling him in. Their tongues rolling over one another, tasting each other deeply. He so lovingly cupped her face within his giving hands, feeling her jaw move under his grip as they connected kissing.

He pulled her close to the edge once more underneath him, parting her knees while kissing her lovingly. He felt her hand travel down and grip him. His manhood, dripping with anticipation but awaiting readiness. He felt ready, about to burst at every touch she shared with him. As long as she wanted it, he'd give it to her. Just then, as if reading his mind, she gripped him tighter, stroking him slowly. He could feel her fingers rub along the length of his shaft, stopping just before the tip. He started breathing sparsely and in huffs, the anticipation of the moment building inside of him as she pulled him to her most vulnerable area.

He pulled back, having to examine her face. She really wanted this? With him? Of course, things have led them this far, but this. This was different, with a deeper level of intimacy, fully sharing your body with someone, leading to this ultimate act. He was scared in a way, still so ready, still so full of lust and want. Yet, it made him emotional on some level. For her to allow him to connect with her like this. To be so open, so vulnerable with him. He wanted reassurance that this was ok, that she wanted it too. Her cute little voice beckoned to him. “Please” her face curled into a look he could only compare to puppy dog eyes. Lips pouting, eyes seeking. Hearing her ask, of course he wanted reassurance, but hearing her ask? It was almost too much. He wished he could only read her mind; she would never have to ask anything of him. He nodded, sliding his length up and down her slit before he pushed forward, helping her guide him in. Her body, so warm, wet, and soft, it's all he could think about.

He pulled her as close to the edge against him as he could, sliding so easily on his coat. He then steadied himself, putting one hand on her abdomen as he slowly pushed himself into her opening. He felt her walls close around him as he slowly pushed further in. She cried out as he filled her. Her warmness surrounded his length and tightened around him. She would clench and let go as he entered, causing little grunts to spill from his lips as he adjusted to her, filling her completely. Being inside her was unlike anything he could imagine. It was like being given a bear hug. Being squeezed tightly in a warm hug but so much more satisfying in the way it made him feel. The weight of the world left his shoulders for a brief time while he was inside her. It was as if she could protect him in this way. When he was inside her, he felt comfort and ease. His mind, no longer plagued by doubt or heavy thoughts. An amazing thing, he wondered how that could be. But he focused more on the feeling, how good she felt squirming underneath him, how tight she was as he entered her, how her moans filled the air, moans he created.

He began thrusting in and out, slowly and gently, as she pulled him to her, face to face. He was sensitive, and every movement she made nearly took him to his end. He wanted so badly to please her. He pressed in further, pushing in until he no longer could, a low moan brewing in his throat, sounding like a growl building. He couldn’t help how his body reacted, only followed along with what felt good and continued, watching for what he could tell she liked as well. Tuning himself into her. She eagerly began bucking her hips into him. Meeting his every thrust with her own in unison, staring greedily into his eyes. As much as he wanted to meet her energy, he didn’t want to hurt her. He could feel her grip him from within, how tight she was, how she would close up around him as he moved in and out of her. He was careful not to abuse her delicate flower she had so trustingly gifted him with. Every thrust of his was met with a gasp or moan from her. She would scream out his name yelling “yes, fuck, yes”, “Arthur please fuck me! please”, “please don’t stop, fuck” and “harder Arthur!” She was so demanding of him, so fucking sexy he thought. Truly enjoying herself around his cock. Throwing her head back, arching her hips.

He straightened, grabbing her legs and laying them on either shoulder, leaning in for a quick peck and burying himself even deeper into her cunt as he leaned into her. He reached his hand around the front of her legs, sliding his fingers through them and resting them on her clit. He playfully rubbed her bud. Slowly moving in circles around it. She liked this, the way her eyes rolled back and her body shook, he could feel she was close too. He felt himself groaning with every thrust. Light, almost inaudible gasps, emboldened by her. She was so freely moaning, so loudly, not a care. Just fully enveloping herself in him. The louder she moaned, the harder he thrusted with muted moans of his own. He wanted to hear more; how loud could he make her? Her body rocking and shaking under his. He watched her face as she moaned and panted for him. An Image he wanted cemented in his mind. He would hold onto it forever. He continued fucking her, each time with a harder thrust, each time a little bit faster.

He watched as her face looked on hazily. How she looked him in his eyes as he filled her to his base. He could feel her wetness build up around him, sliding in and out of her made easy. His own orgasm building up, every push into her becoming more sensitive, a feeling, expanding inside him. “Ar-Arth” she stammered in a hushed, breathy manner. “Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum!” She exasperatingly cried out breathing heavily. She pawed at him, dropping her legs and wrapping them around his waist. He felt wanted and loved in this moment as she wanted him closer, he was inside her and still she pulled him in, wanting more. He did too.

He wanted to kiss her again. Her face aglow from the subway lights and perspiration. A few strands of hair sticking to her glistening forehead. She was panting heavily; he smiled as he watched her face contort while she approached the precipice of her climax. A look of bliss in her complexion. It looked freeing. Her eyebrows raised, meeting in the middle, she arched her back and gritted her teeth. Once again, looking at him as she rode the high of her climax. Meeting him with a half kiss, a valiant attempt but she was fuck drunk and completely at the will of her orgasm.

He felt a confident and prideful smile cross his lips. He had done this; she was like this for him, because of him. Somehow, he was able to elicit this reaction out of this angel of a being. He was proud. He could feel her walls clench tightly around his length with every wave that surged through her body. Every contraction met with involuntary convulsions. He felt himself getting closer. Her vaginal spasms gripping him within, causing him to swell and throb. Watching her completely let go, feeling her fully succumb to him, he was ready. Making her the first priority worked, he thought. He didn’t cum first, something he had worried about the entire time they were intimate, and even before.

Her hands still touching him as he slowly moved back and forth within her, not sure what to do next. “Don’t stop” she touched his face softly with a sleepy smile on her lips. He felt so close himself, unsure how much longer he could last with her clenching around him still. He began thrusting harder and faster once more, doing what felt good to him. Sliding his length almost all the way out each time and meeting her with a hard thrust. His hips bucked almost on their own, taken over by pure instinct. He felt so close. A feeling building inside him like a balloon being blown bigger and bigger until it popped. He focused on his movements, focused on the feeling as she cried out, encouraging him. Every moan that escaped her lips only made him fuck her more ferociously, unable to keep pace or rythm. Her eyes looking at him as he slammed into her, so innocently just staring at him. Catching her gaze and holding it. Grunting as he slammed into her.

A low guttural groan filled the cabin. He felt himself tip over the edge and explode within her. His cock spasmed and pulsated with every squirt of his essence he poured into her, his body shaking with every wave of pleasure. She held him tightly to her as he came. Legs wrapped around him, holding him there. He felt his hot seed fill her as his pace slowed, still fucking her as his seed leaked out. His sensitivity grew and he became unable to move, rendered helpless. The train car took on a hazy glow and his ears rang as rapture filled his every sense, this was heaven, or the closest to it he had ever been. A feeling of none other than complete satisfaction and contentment filled his psyche.

He breathed a deep sigh as he continued twitching inside of her, the feeling slowly subsiding. He gently fell into her, cradling his face in the crook of her neck, smelling her perfume and sweat, invigorating his senses. He remained there for as long as possible, not letting the outside world in, just basking in the connection he had found. Reveling in the romantic and intimate act they had both shared. He replayed those moments in his mind, giddy at the thought. He smiled against her and breathed with content. A sigh of gratitude. She held him tightly, caressing his curls atop his head, twirling a lock in her fingers playfully with an adoring smile. She stroked his back and shoulders ever so lightly, a charge of electricity trailing each fingertip. He lay on top of her, his cock still warm inside her, a place he never wanted to leave. A bell chimed in the distance and he looked at her with longing eyes, knowing they would have to get dressed soon, as the last stop approached. He remained there, soaking up every last bit of time he could spend with her. She was the one in his soul, reflecting his inner light. His serenity. The sun on a dark day. How lucky am I to have someone like her? He thought. For him… the words echoed in his mind. He smiled, buried in her still, savoring every moment.

[glitterhammies]

Should i call you Joker?

FLUFF 

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

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

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

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

TIME SKIP 

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

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

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

until next time little Hammies*

[misfitgirlwrites]

‼️ CLOSED ‼️

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

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

There will be three winners!

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

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

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

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

As of now, I write for THESE specific Jokers:

Ledger’s Joker (The Dark Knight)

Jerome and Jeremiah Valeska (Gotham)

Arthur Fleck (Joker)

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

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

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

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

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

Good luck and thank you all!!!

[darknessisafriend]

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

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

Commodus:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur/Joker:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bruno Weiss:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charlie:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joe:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Max California:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Abbe:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Merill

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[liliesdiary]

── .✦ D.C MOODBOARDS

♡ Joker Moodboards ♡

Joaquin Phoenix:

Love Letters For Arthur Fleck

Arthur, You Are My Poetry

Happy Birthday, Arthur Fleck

Making Dinner For Arthur Fleck

Stalker Arthur Fleck

Halloween With Arthur Fleck

Arthur, You Are My Flower

Christmas With Arthur Fleck

♡ Scarecrow Moodboards ♡

Cillian Murphy:

Dr. Crane Locking His Doll Away

Nymphomania

Scarecrow Kidnaps His Baby Bat

Dr Crane x Dr Harleen Quinzel

Dr Crane x Poison Ivy

Scarecrow x Catwoman

Tear You Apart

The Throuple That Rules Arkham Asylum

♡ Nightwing Moodboards ♡

Dick Grayson:

Bad Girls Don't Get To Cum

♡ Harley Quinn Moodboards ♡

Dr. Crane x Dr. Harleen Quinzel

The Throuple That Rules Arkham Asylum

The Forest Nymph & The Preacher's Daughter

Negan x Harley Quinn

♡ Poison Ivy Moodboards ♡

The Forest Nymph & The Preacher's Daughter

Dr. Crane x Poison Ivy

The Throuple That Rules Arkham Asylum