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these-written-reveries · 1 year

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

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

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The Spark ✧.*

‣ Pairing: Arthur Fleck x GN!Reader

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

‣ Genre: Fluff

‣ Warnings: None!

‣ Word Count: 5,158

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

Arthur Fleck/P!Joker Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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

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

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

Everyone, but you.

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

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

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

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

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

The spark, perhaps?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was, until he spoke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, they landed on you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

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

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

Nobody, but you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You’re Arthur Fleck from—"

"You were the one who—"

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

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

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

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

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

Surprisingly, though, you laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

"E-Eighth floor…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you had found your spark.

And his name was Arthur Fleck.

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jokerownsmysoul · 2 years

Text

anniversary celebration

Summary: you and Arthur celebrate your love and the importance of having each other on your 3rd anniversary.

Warnings: smut

Length: 8100

Notes: happy Jokerversary to whoever is still celebrating it! both the ones already occurred and the ones yet to come 💙 today happy Jokerversary to me, too. 🌷

it's been a while since I could bring myself to write. things happened and I couldn't write as much as I needed in the last few months. I feel a little rusty, but also genuinely happy for finally managing to write an anniversary piece. I've wanted to write one for literal years. ❤︎ tbh it won't be the last 🤭 there are a couple of things I'll have to adjust but for now this will do. I really wanted to post this piece today 💙

gifs source: ㋡ & ㋡

It was a slice of sunbeam leaking from the crack of the window over your eyes to wake you both on that Sunday morning. It was the light of early daybreak; the faded, pasty kind. The kind of sunlight that still managed to blend itself with the close-to-farewell pale moonlight as it made its way to fall on your sleeping visages and suggest how early it was.

Your eyes opened lazily at the same moment as soon as the sunlight slanted across your faces hit them. Arthur’s eyelashes were disclosing across his cheekbones the second your eyes opened to the morning light and found the familiar sight of his face turned toward you. His eyelids were still half-closed, and his eyes hooded with sleep in a way that only the sunlight twinkling in his irises could be revealed. Nevertheless, his gaze sought yours through this shared drowsiness in an instant.

For you the sun hadn’t quite risen yet until he smiled at you the bright, boyish smile he used to save for those Pogo’s open mic nights worthy of celebrations, the ones that ended with a earned happy ending of a cheering crowd and a stroll to donuts and coffee.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, mouth pressed groggily on his pillow. His morning voice, sweet but hoarse, even after all these years still caused a hurricane of tiny butterflies to flutter in your tummy, dancing and shivering and falling in love to the timbre of it.

You yawned when you smiled at him. “Good morning.”

He blinked dreamily a couple of times, just enough for his sleep-foggy mind to clear up, to register and then relish in the beginning of this special day that was today. He really wanted to taste every moment of it to the very end. “You know what day is?”

You nodded, sleepily but enthusiastically, feeling yourself soften at his irresistible, naive sentimentality with a bunch of your own, then scooped closer until your head was nearly on his own pillow and your noses touched lightly. Your hand crept up from under the covers to reach his tousled hair, combing the greasy brown locks that covered his temple briefly as your fingertips caressed a line along the side of his face. “I met the love of my life three years ago.”

His croocked tooth broke through a smile full of dimples as your eyes bore into each other, igniting images of the day you met in your minds ready to spark like those musicals you love to watch together. Images of yourself bumping into him at the bottom of the long stairway leading to your apartments on a very much ordinary day now made special, of your continuous shared trips up and down the stairs coated in polite smiles and unspeakable yearning of getting to know each other, and images of his disbelief when one day you dared to say hello and of his courage to ask you to walk you home, a simple gesture that led you to your first kiss and the first time he held your hand in his.

Your hearts seized thinking about that day; to where you were then and where you were now. About your past selves about to fall in love who every day used to walk the stairs together as a sign of fate, without saying a word out of shyness, and who now were familiar with what you looked like in the morning, with puffy eyes and tired limbs and wrinkled pajamas. Every morning you showed each other a part of yourself that no one else could ever or had ever seen.

And there he was, looking at your messy hair and swollen lips, again declaring his love for this part of you saved for him for the third consecutive year. Arthur decided he could no longer miss your touch as he looked at you and leaned forward to join your lips together in a sleepy kiss. His lips were warm, and when your hand cupped and squeezed his cheek a little you felt that his skin was warm, too, warmer than the blanket covering you up to the shell of your ears. You sighed between his lips, pressing your body closer to his under the covers as you deepened your connection and kissed each other in a way that left no doubt your celebrations had already started.

You moved further into his pillow when you broke apart, letting yourself fall in this feeling of comfort and familiarity typical of him, a fundamental trait of how his good mornings were like – and how you wanted his good morning to be like for the rest of your days. You adjusted and molded to him when his arm looped around your waist to pull you tighter. You didn’t need explanations to understand that none of you wanted to get out of bed just yet. “What do you want to do today?” He asked.

You thought it over for a moment, toying absentmindedly with his wide, cute nostrils, caressing their uneven outlines with your pads until he chuckled. There were many things you would like to do – things you would like to do with him – but no matter what came to your mind, in the end Arthur was the focus of each one of them and the essential part of everything. Arthur was the only thing to really matter, the rest was only a background to highlight the two of you. Just like your past celebrations, you really did not need great things to be reminded how big and special your love was or how lucky you were to have found each other amongst the many. It was in the little things of your every day life, in fact, where lived the true meaning of having found the right person and being able to keep each other close every day and then forever. To lay in bed with him in the early morning, enveloped in his warmth and his affection, was more than enough.

“Some coffee and a lot of you is all I need to celebrate,” you said.

“Mhm,” he listened and hummed in agreement, even looked a little flustered, but he didn’t seem fully satisfied with your answer yet. “Anything special you want?”

“Only you,” you purred against his lips.

A meek snort left him. He brought his moist lips on your forehead and kissed the spot between your brows, then proceed to skim your face with a trail of light, tender pecks. One landed on your cheekbone, one on your nose, one on the corner of your mouth. His gestures were soft and the sounds of his kisses made the tiny butterflies in your tummy come back again and somersaults. He nuzzled your face with his. “You have me.”

You tilted your head with a soft hum, nudging his nose and stroking the wrinkles of his chin. “What do you want?”

“This,” he said, “this is what I want.” His other hand sneaked between you and his fingertip traced your lower lip. He followed its curve with attentiveness before claiming it. He kissed you, in rapture and in love, tight lips pressed on yours until he licked them open with his damp tongue. He kissed you until the familiar taste of his sleepy mouth made you forget your name, until you felt yourself hover in the air kept grounded only by his arm around you, until you couldn't tell whether it was the sunlight or the light of your life that was keeping you warm.

“Oh,” you breathed when he pulled away, lightheaded. He chuckled and stayed there, simply gaping at you. After a while, a familiar twinkle crept in his eyes all of a sudden, the signal of something inside him he could no longer hold back that needed to sparkle.

“Wait here.”

Your brows quirked with curiosity when he shifted and dragged himself out of bed. The bed all of a sudden felt much colder without him to hold and warm you, to simply be there with you.

“I'll be right back.” He stroked your blanket-covered thigh and disappeared beyond the bedroom door. He probably was going to make breakfast to bring in bed; perhaps a brewed cup of the coffee you've just mentioned.

You moved to lay on your back and stretched out on the mattress, letting out a sigh of relief when you felt the side of your back pop. Contentment stirred your muscles, a look of bliss on your face. You felt happy. When then you sunk your head further into the soft pillow your eyes fell on the window to your right and found the sun continuing its ascend across the sky. Glimmers of light now were slowly filtering throught the window, outlining its border and the several slots, and painting the bedroom walls with slanted marigold brushstrokes. Smiling eagerly and missing him already, you waited for him to come back.

You guessed that he would come back holding a tray with your favorite breakfast and your favorite coffee mugs, but when you felt his socks tapping louder and nearer on the floor and his figure walked through the door again, his hands were holding none of these things. From his hands hung instead a single red rose, and a velvet box whose interior you could not decipher.

You jumped up on your seat when you saw him, feeling excitement and genuine disbelief fizzing through your body like bubbles in sparkling water. “Arth?”

He giggled and sat cross-legged on the mattress beside you. “This is for you.” He handed you the rose, and tentative fingers reached out to caress and hold it close as if it was a part of him. And somehow, to you it was. Instantly did you bring the red petals to your nose, taking your time to revel in the sweet fragrance and how even sweeter he was.

Before you could pulled away, he held the velvet box up in his hand, pausing his next move for a moment the way he paused the timing of his delivery to set the joke right, and lifted it open, with the adoration you knew was innate in him and also a touch of theatricalism he'd learned from the most romantic musicals.

Your eyes widened when you saw a ring shimmering in the sunlight on its inside. It was a simple golden bang ring, plane and shiny, to make it special and all yours was the sentence: “My one and only” engraved in Arthur’s own handwriting on the inner part. You would have recognized his handwriting anywhere. If you only looked carefully, you could even guessed if he’d gotten it from a page of his journal.

You could feel your heart swell as your eyes shifted from the ring to Arthur and then back to the ring and back to Arthur.

The emerald of his eyes was shimmer with happiness as he translated the surprise in your eyes and explained himself before you could say anything. “I’ve planned on giving it to you tonight, but you look beautiful and I love you too much. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Arthur had been good at keeping this gift a secret, far too good, even though his journal carried the proof of every step of the way. Pages after pages filled with your name, with all the things you deserved and the few ones he could afford. Pages of how he used to call you, “his one and only,” – a different, unique way of telling each other you were soul mates that he’d always yearned about deep in his soul and now could be all yours – and a check list of his savings to get you what he thought was the perfect gift for you; romantic, simple certainly, and possible to make special with something that belonged to you alone.

“Arthur, how...?” You tried to tame your emotions bubbling up in your belly, and with a bit of admission, also the quiet, happy tears that could damp your eyelashes at any moment, but you knew that it was a lost battle from the start.

He ducked his chin, a shy smile before he continued. “Three years spent with the person you love is a significant step. I wanted you to have this.” The wrinkles around his eyes and his dimples showed off carried the intensity of his happiness and the vastness of his love for you. “Give me your hand.”

He took hold of your hand when you gave him and gently put the ring on your finger. He seemed to relax when he noted that the ring was the perfect size and muffled a breath of relief. He stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, before bringing your hand to his lips to leave a prolonged kiss onto your ring finger. You shivered when the warmth of his mouth combined with the cold material met your skin. “You can say you have me wrapped around your finger now,” he said when he pulled away.

You laughed soundly at the silly pun before leaning on him and connect his lips to yours. His silly puns were some of your favorites. “It's perfect,” you whispered. “You are perfect. Anything with you is perfect. I love you so much.”

You spent the morning lounging on the bed, kissing and holding each other in your arms, not letting go. You witnessed in each other’s embraces the rising of the sun in its complete fullness; slowly its rays began to stretch and multiplied beyond the window to every corner of the bedroom, its arrival signaled further by the first birds beginning to sing their melodies across the sky in the background like a thurntable the world was offering you.

Your hand seemed to be the subject of all his attentions as the morning went by. Arthur would keep taking your fingers in his hands, caressing and watching them into his palms to then carry them to his lips and, once again, to kiss the finishing of the ring he gave you.

“I have another part of you to kiss,” he would tease after his mouth had made contact with it.

“You know you have all of me,” you would answer back every time it occured.

Your eyes would dwell on the ring in unison; you had never been fond of great gestures or expensive things, your love was more than precious enough to enrich your hearts already, but you couldn’t help yourself from feeling like this ring was some kind of a really precious thing instead. It wasn’t so much about the ring itself, but about your promise of eternal love it symbolized and that a part of Arthur as deep, personal and inimitable as his handwriting was engraved on it for you. Only for you.

The sunlight was blinding and your white bedstheets looked more like a sun-drenched cloud when you took his hand in yours at some point and made them swing in the air above your heads in lightheaded playfulness. The sunlight was seeping through your fingers between his like liquid gold and pieced them together in a bubble of light almost as to make them one entity, the ring turning lush under the sun as it caught the brightness of its rays in small twinkles chasing after your gaze.

You found yourself comparing the size of your hands almost as if you had just met him for the second time, and a youthful kind of sentimentalism washed over you. “Your hands are bigger than mine,” you said. “I adore it.” You loved any detail of his hands. Each prominent vein, each tendon, the baby hair peppering the back. You loved to trace them, kiss them, to hold them in yours and take care of them. You knew you would've never left the hold of him.

You marveled at the beauty of it – of your hands up to the light, of the ring and the sunbeams trapped in its inside, of the manly protection that his strong but gentle hands stirred within you – and made your fingers dance between his own, ever so gently as though there were piano keys to play, until you interlocked them together.

You felt your heart squeeze and the lower part of your belly flutter whenever you lingered in the fact that his handwriting, what you considered to be the tangible handprint of his soul, was touching your skin. It made you feel like you could be always in his protective embrace, like he could be always with you.

“I can carry you with me wherever I go,” you daydreamed to him. “I love anything of you that is able to touch me, even without skin contact.”

His cheeks turned pink, his face going to hide into the hollow below your ear to softly nudge at the skin there. “I've always known you were the one and only for me.” His breath fanned warm on your skin.

“So do I, Arthur.” This time, you were the one who brought his hand down to your own lips. Your eyelashes fluttered close as you laid a prolonged kiss to his ring finger and relished in the taste of his skin, the smell of his hand. Arthur not having a ring to symbolize your connection – yet – didn’t stop you from feeling bound to him already. “So do I.”

The beautiful things you shared together had a different sound when they were about to start; it was what made all of your mornings special every time, for they were the continuation of every beginning of the day you had shared so far. A sweeter sound, that felt like music and made him want to dance among the feathers of the comforter with you. Arthur was always telling you how love (and therefore you) made him want to dance. With your laughter kissing one another in the sunlight and the first birds chirping beyond the window, telling song about love and promises and never-ending futures to share, this sound felt as tangible as your love was.

******

The day progressed, the afternoon passed by, and the blinding sunlight soon had gone behind to make room for the rising of the moon. You liked to watch how the rhythm of nature had made the sunlight dissolve past the horizon to grant your special day the different moonlight background.

Evening had settled in when you and Arthur started creating the perfect atmosphere for your special date as was the tradition. Beyond the windows open of the living room a mantle of navy blue sky was sprinkled over the roofs of the nearby buildings, their windows starting to light up the clue of the time of the day when the city began to fall silent and the bright moon announced that it was time to leave work and go home for a final rest.

You made yourselves pretty for each other. Arthur took your breath away when you saw him stepping into the living room. Freshly washed, damp-earth toned locks fell in soft waves on the top of his shoulders, the red sweater he knew you loved and found perfect for any occasion left exposed his chest and his kissable wrists. He was amused when he caught you pairing your plain long dress with his white socks.

Any new shared little thing, and every instant where you were together, felt like a small adventure with him. This is what your dinners or humble celebrations at home felt like. They were simple, but you had each other, and that was what made them special and not to be missed.

You turned off the apartment lights and instead tapered candles were lit, laid on the small table in front of the couch and on the living room windowsills; the main protagonist of the romantic and private atmosphere both of you couldn’t live without and the promise that one day you would have your own fireplace, to warm up your nightly, intimate conversations and your bodies making love on the floor during winter. It was nice to plan your future together. As a final touch, you placed the rose Arthur gave you that you had put in a cylinder glass vase in the center of the small table, surrounded by candles.

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of candles when you got comfortable on the couch. Semi-darkness surrounded you, except for the moonlight that sneaked fantly from the window and blended with the amber halo irradiated from the flickering flames.

Arthur opened the bottle of red wine you had chosen together at the grocery store and as he poured some in both your glasses you opened a heart-shaped box of assorted chocolates to give your evening just that extra touch of sweetness.

He tucked the first chocolate between his teeth and leaned in, for you to wrap it around your own teeth and withdraw your portion from his mouth. You giggled for how cheesy it was, and loved him even more for wanting to do this with you as you took your promised bite. His lips tasted sweet when he stole a kiss from you. You spent the evening talking your heart out and kissing between a sip of wine and a bite of chocolate. From time to time your mouth would keep feeding one another, the taste of sweetness into his mouth making it increasingly hard for you to stay away from his kisses as the evening rolled on.

You could feel the wine lightening your thoughts and blushing your cheeks; that, along with the caresses Arthur bestowed over you being dragged out as the evening progressed, contributed to reinforce your inclination to lose yourself in how handsome he looked in this kind of light that brought out his romantic and old-fashioned side. The two of you would rest your elbows on the back of the couch to support your heads as you talked in the kind of hushed whispers known only by lovers, and you would get lost in the emerald of his eyes beaming only for you, how his lips would part and his Adam apple pop whenever he took a sip.

The romantic at heart in him was just one of the many sides of him that made you fall in love with him. You liked how sweet and sentimental he could be in his old-fashioned and unique way, and that unlike so many other people in the city, he had no trouble at all showing his sensitive side or reveal his heart to someone else, a trait that made you feel safe when you were together and led you to think that you could reveal your heart to him, too, without any judgment or worries. To be vulnerable with him. Your hearts beat to the same romantic tune, spoke the same language, and you couldn’t help your tears from wetting your eyes whenever he reminded you how kindred your souls truly were, how lucky for finding someone who could understand what your heart was saying.

You were nestled into his warm side, your head resting on his shoulder when silence fell over you as you enjoyed for a moment the mere feeling of being together. On the same couch, on the same moment, on the same love story. The candles were half burnt, the box of chocolates half empty and even emptier were your glasses, the rose he gave you in front of you blowing its wonderful smell towards the two of you all along. Heat rose in your belly whenever the smell of the rose went to blend with the wonderful smell of him, reaching your fluttering heart as well as your core.

The sight of the things that represented your date resting together on the table looked like a snapped photograph of everything you’d shared together until this moment, the proof of how far your bond had come and how dull and love-deprived your lives would've been if things, even if a very tiny detail, had gone differently.

You ran your knuckles along the inner part of his elegant wrist that was resting on his lap, caressing its tendon, which always seemed to beg for your affection, especially when he was wearing his pretty red sweater. “I don't think I've ever told you... but thank you.”

“For what?” He asked softly with genuine curiosity.

“For wanting to walk me home three years ago. Meeting you was the first best thing to ever happen to me. Being loved by you right back was the second.”

You felt him smile as he squeezed you gently with his other arm around you and kissed your hair. “You had me at hello. Thank you for saying it.”

You could not wait any longer; to have him so close to you, warm and sweet-smelling, and not taste him was becoming painful. You lifted your head in search of his lips and wrapped them in a tender kiss, full of love and thank yous. You missed his lips already when you pulled away, but there was something you had to do before immersing yourself in all that he was.

“I have something for you,” you confessed.

He raised his brows. “Oh yeah?”

Excitement kept you from standing still when after you nodded with a sly grin went to grab the gift and gently laid it on his lap.

You watched him as he unwrapped it. It was the vinyl copy of that one film you've watched together one night of not so long ago, whose soundtrack Arthur had found himself loving almost as much as he loved you. The breaks where he would pull you into a improvised dance had been more than the breaks where you would be sitting on the couch nestled into each other, almost as though every new introduced song inspired new dance moves inside him that he needed to let out and wanted you to be part of. This was what drove you to go fishing to store after store until you finally found it. He looked so happy and handsome in his element as he danced his soul away… it would have been a shame not to take advantage of it.

A radiant smile made its way across his face instantly, eyes twinkling with bewilderment when he saw what it was and caressed the vinyl cover where the title stood out on the top. “How did you find it?!”

“I persisted on it. You are worth the time of waiting when things are hard to find,” you told him, a delicate caress on his cheekbone. “You looked beautiful the other night, now you can ask me to dance to it whenever you want. I promise I will never say no.”

“Heaven, I'm in heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak...” This Arthur was humming when he began to bring himself nearer. “I seem to find the happiness I seek when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek...” Fondness overshadowed the flame of candles and the moonlight reflected in his eyes, growing half-lidded and fixed on yours, his voice getting lower of a few decibels and huskier the closer you were. Arthur humming a soft tune for you was always enough to make your knees go weak, as though he had the ability to put you under a spell. His cheeks were flushed by wine, his lips moist and irresistible smelling like chocolate, making you starve for something more of him.

His hair tickled your skin when his face went to nestle your own, the floral smell of his shampoo wafting through your nostrils. He rubbed his cheek against yours like he did in a dance and you thought he was about to pull you into a dance to link to the vinyl a wonderful first memory, but instead he caught your earlobe between his teeth and kissed it soothed. Your breath itched when the tip of his nose brushed across the sensitivity below your ear to breathe in your perfume.

“Thank you,” he rasped, every syllable elongated on his tongue. The air in the living room suddenly was getting heavier.

“Arthur…” you breathed, “what are you doing?”

“I’m kissing my girlfriend.”

The deep tone of his voice tickled your center, a telltale tymbre of the kind of turn he wanted to give your evening now. You exhaled a chuckle that turned into a hushed sigh as you searched for his face and cupped his cheeks.

You pressed your lips on him with abandon, noses squeezing against one another as he wrapped one arm around you and you arched into his embrace, though the unsatiated need of him made you feel him more distant than he ever was. He started kissing you deeper, your tongue dipping into the intoxicated sweetness inside his mouth just when you felt the palm of his hand landing flat on your thigh. You could sense the velvet fabric of your long dress being dragged up by his explorative caresses, sliding upwards to the curve of your waist, a sense of coolness when your leg was left unclothed underneath his touch.

You lamented when he broke apart to move further down and reach the most shameless part of your neck. He muffled a soft snort over your skin as he registered your responses to him, relishing in you reacting to him the way he was leading you. You didn’t realize how soaked you were until you buried your hand through his locks and tilted your head to let him go further, nibbling and licking, his tongue drawing a wet line along the cord of your neck down to your collarbone.

Heat flared from your chest, burning your cleavage to the apples of your cheeks. You couldn’t tell whether it was due to the wine you had sipped or the way he was touching you. You felt lightheaded, but frankly, it was the intoxicating trait of anything Arthur ever did to you to make you feel lovedrunk all the time.

You let Arthur guide you as he laid you down on the couch to make love to you. You laughed with each other when your head almost hit the armrest of the couch causing your neck to bend oddly, but you made it work as you slide down a little and he placed the couch pillow under your head. You always joked about his couch being the perfect size for lovemaking.

He pecked your lips before he worked to strip you bare from any confines between him and your bare skin, your dress falling off on the ground under his confident ministrations not long after. With your body being revealed to him, he suddenly stalled on his track.

He was surprised to find you hiding black lace garters and stockings pared with a bra underneath, the kind one you knew made his head spin, that emphasized the curve of your thighs and the shape of your decollete.

His breath faltered as it grew heavier, pink hues painted across his cheeks all of a sudden. “What is it?”

You bit your lip, a sly smile on your face as you looked up at him. “My second gift.”

Thrilled, he snorted and stood on his knees at the extremity of the couch to gape at you. His eyes bore into yours before wandering to any part of you, sprawled beneath him clad in nylon and lace for him. This was exactly the reaction you've hoped getting from him when you've decided what lingerie to wear, a wonderful package ready to be unwrapped.

You relished in the feeling of the weight of his gaze full of wonder hovering across your feminine forms, how it increased the desire you had for each other to an unberable level; part of you wanted him to make you his immediately. With his eyes on you, you lingered on the sort of self-love you gained in finding yourself the only, continuos subject of his pleasure, in how Arthur loving your body helped you to love it the same amount. He hummed with satisfaction when you slightly spread your thighs in a gentle tease as you watched him watching you from above, expression of all of your needs and the plea to quench the growing ache simmering in your core.

It didn't take long for his hands to start wander over your body in response, following the same road his gaze would take. You whimpered when he took hold of your calf and the contanct of his skin on yours cut through the tension between your glances, a sense of greed in his gaze as he watched his fingers slide unhurriedly along the curves of your leg up to the outline of your hipbone, reveling in the friction of his pads against the nylon of your stockings.

His eyes studied you all over, slow and enamored, glossy with the arousing awareness that this was a show you've made only for him to see. Your tummy quivered when his pads reached your navel, following its curve and headed upward. He took his time to enjoy the wonderful gift you were giving him. From this perspective, he wasn’t pay attention to the truth that you were able to gape up at him, too. You liked how the two of you would unravel in front of each other without hesitation in any kind of situation, exposing your arousal as well as your hearts trembling and pulsating for each other.

His bulge widened through his pants, straining the wrinkles of the pinstriped fabric and catching your attention as his hands reached the shape of your bra that accentuated the roundness of your breasts. He gave them a gentle squeeze before his rough pads traced the hem of your bra, so close to almost touching you but not enough to feel his skin on you all the same. He seemed to understand that the eagerness settled in your craving was a matched one as he reached around to unclasp it. You raised your back to help him take it off of you before he repositioned himself on top, the brushes of his clothed erection against you agonizing.

His eyes paused on your bare breasts, utter devotion in his gaze while through his long lashes he admired the soft, apricot nuance your pink areolas took under the candlelight, how the orange glow bathed the shape of your nipples already beginning to stiffen under his gaze. His palm folded around your breast, and he payed attention to how smooth you felt in his hand. The sensation of his strong hand on your velvety skin made your areola start to crinkle, causing you both to sigh in unison as you witnessed the many ways your body would start to flourish with the nurturing of his care.

He wrapped his heated mouth around your nipple while his thumb brushed against the other, groaning as he felt it harden under his tongue, in his ears ringing the girlish sighs falling from your lips to every brush of his tongue coated with saliva. You met his gestures with a gasp when he pulled away and the warmth of his tongue was replaced by the cool air.

He moved down to continue his journey on you, past your stomach to the level of your panties. Clear surprise in his eyes of finding them soaked-through, the shape of your pussy outlined by the fabric and a sharp line to disclose your outer labia to him. He felt himself throb as he drew himself nearer and planted a tantalizing kiss to your lace-covered pussy, his big, pointy nose buried in its slit to breathe in your distinct smell. You jerked forward without much of control and a soft grin blossomed across his face.

“I like this gift,” he teased gently. You shared a satisfied smile while with graceful, fluid gestures he worked through your garters to tuck his fingers under your panties and nimbly pull them off. He licked his lips at the sight of your pussy glistening under the moonlight, ready for him. None of you expressed a need to take off your stocking and garters, and you knew the thought of it hadn't crossed his mind, which felt enticing.

“Come closer,” you pleaded. “And took off your clothes.”

With a chuckle that dissolved into a low grunt, he did as you told him. Eagerly you helped him get out off his clothes, tossing them over the back of the couch before gripping his underwear to slide it down, that he quickly kicked off before he positioned himself over you. A exhale paused in your throat when his cock sprung free and you caught the red tip shimmering in the warm light.

With him standing naked over you, you couldn’t help but marvel at the way the dim glow of candlelight was diffused over his body, how it brought out and concealed the contours of his lean muscles tensed with the want of you and his slender figure through shadows and highlights as if it was a Caravaggio’s painting.

Arthur was a rare work of art, and reminded you of how rare he was all the time. You brought your hand up over his ribs and ran your pads across their sinuous undulation, tracing the flickering flame that was shaded across the valley of his diagonal side and how its warm color made his skin look almost coppery. He leaned into the palm of your hand when you let your knuckles slide along his chest down to his navel, his tummy relaxing before the gentleness he'd always gotten from you despite the shivers your touch caused him, his vaporous, brown locks framing his cheekbones all the while, the green in his eyes irresistible. Arthur was beautiful, and his body was beautiful, too, though he really didn't give it much of a thought nor believed you whenever you told him. This had never made you want to stop, though.

“You look beautiful on top of me,” you marveled.

His smile was sweet and sincere, and his gaze was soft, when he held your hand and carried it to his lips to kiss your ring finger in that specific way that by now had become familiar. Your heart clenched at the delicate way he loved you, he never stopped making you feel blessed for being the person he loved. His person.

He laced his fingers with yours and carried them about your head as he alined himself with your entrance, having no intention of let go off the hold of you. You were tired of this separation to which your bodies had to submit continuously saved for these moments of pristine intimacy. You were ready to finally get as close to each other as your bodies allowed you to be.

He locked his eyes with yours as he eased himself inside you, finally bringing your connection to a physical level. You watched each other’s reactions as he entered you, how your mouth fell agape at the fullness of his cock, how his eyebrows stitched together at the feeling of your walls embracing him slowly in a space that was meant only for him.

Making love with Arthur felt like the possibility to turn tangible something that already resided in your souls and otherwhise could be only felt.

Your bodies worked together in a familiar pattern as he started sliding in and out of you with tempo, one that mirrored and somehow replicated the myriad of times when you've made love on this same living room, on this same couch. On Sunday morning instead of breakfast, in the evening, or in late afternoon after work, when you needed the other to remind you that the world could still be beautiful and kind to you, after all.

His fingers squeezed between yours until his knuckles turned white as he pressed them onto the couch and pulled himself deeper inside you, filling the room with uncontrolled gasps that carried the symphony of how good you made him feel. You held onto his hands, onto him, cradling his sweaty frame with your legs as you wrapped them around him to feel of him as much as you could. You both liked the sensation of the nylon rubbing against him to the rhythm of his undulations, a tantalizing game that sped up the pace of his thrusts.

He let go off your hand to let his own run across your thigh with the gentleness you knew only he had in this city, a groan cutting through the air as he relished in your stockings and how damn pretty they looked on you.

“I feel like I’ve been knowing you forever,” he said in a exhale.

“You did.” With your free hand you caressed his cheekbone, holding his face as you looked into his eyes. “We both did.”

Your hands moved around him to meet him in an embrace, enveloping your connection in a place that was small, intimate and all yours. You nestled his face. “I meant what I said before. You're worthy of all those years spent waiting for you, Arthur.”

He groaned in delight, squeezing himself inside of you as he fell in the cozy nook you've created for the two of you. The air you breathed became the air he exhaled with every moan, your stomachs flush against one another a sole blanket to keep each other warm. Reality began to take the shape of his features, his body the only place where you felt truly at home. You almost forgot that beyond the window there was a world advancing and the night about to fall around you. Instead, it was as if the time in your living room had stopped flowing, as though it became powerless before your love stimulated into the world. You wished it had.

He shivered when your hands rested on the side of his back and the cold material of the ring touched his fevered skin. A thrill jolted through him, an unfamiliar impetus toward you that made his thrusts start to falter. The cold sensation of the ring around your finger on his back, the awareness of his handwriting touching your skin all the time, stirred in him a intense sense of belonging. Not just the certainty that you belonged to him, but the proof that you wanted to belong to him willingly, to the point of wearing proudly something that so deeply symbolized your connection and bounded to him.

You decided that he liked the sensation when he grinned down at you and his mouth groped on yours in a fervent kiss, tongue meeting the other tongue in a messy waltz whose steps you were trying to follow in the eagerness of your loving.

You could tell he was close by the erratic pace he was submitted to, but suddenly he started to slow down until his hips came to a stop. He slipped out of you with a sharp gasp despite himself, leaving within you a kind of emptiness that was unendurable every time he parted out of you.

“I want this to last longer,” he breathed softly, eyes brimming with fondness while he cradled your hair and then planted a quiet kiss on your forehead.

He slide off you and crouched down at the foot of the couch. A high pitched whimper fell from your lips when he grabbed you by the hips and dragged you towards him with a strenght that would've surprised anyone who didn't know him.

“Arthur, what- oh my God”

Your next words vanished into a sudden cry when he swiped his tongue between your folds and gathered a generous amount of your essence in his mouth, a groan past his lips as he rejoined with his favorite flavor. He quickly turned his focus back on you, each of his actions full of intent to resume what he’d just paused and keep your momentum going.

Once the sense of unexpectedness left you, it didn’t take long for you to adjust to this new way of making love and while one leg went to rest on the floor, the other bent about him. Your hand tugged at his hair, holding him there as he started brushing across your pussy, his mouth knowing which right keys to play for your low moans starting to sing words of prayers for him.

Your hips soon began to roll against him to every rhythmical flicker of his tongue on you, emboldening him to spread your legs further open. The awareness that your pleasure was in his hands filled him with a newfound kind of self conficence that he gained only in bed – and with you. His hand gripped your thigh to guide it over his back and reach a better angle as he immersed himself deeper in between your legs, the round tip of his big nose pressed against your core causing your sounds to elongate, his hair tickling you lightly.

He brought the other hand down to give a couples of strokes to his aching shaft before letting it land flat on your garters to keep you in place as you arched into him. He hooked his fingers beneath the fabric as he pinned you to his mouth, something that made him moan against and along with you.

Your head lolled back, his eyes fluttering close when the tip of his tongue dipped in your center and then went up to circle around your clit. His irresistible hums of delight signaling that he was enjoying it as much as you were arousing as the act itself.

He peeked up at you with heavy lidded eyes before let go off the hold of your thigh. He run his fore and middle finger over your entrance with agonizing slowness before entering you, making you gasp while the flickers of his tongue tuned with his fingers starting to slide inside you.

“Fuck, Arthur.” Sharp cries broke through as Arthur drove your orgasm out of you. His gestures slowed into soft kisses when you came undone and your grip to his hair loosened. You sank into the couch cushions and he planted a kiss to your pubic bone, left small pecks to your inner thighs before you clasped your hands on his biceps to quickly encourage him to come back up.

“I missed this sight of you,” you told him when he was again on top of you. Your bodies adjusted to one another before you spread your legs for him to align himself with your entrance, an explicit welcome to feel him again.

He entered you, a low pace in his moves as he looked down between your bodies and observed how the lenght of his cock went to hide past your folds, how easily his ache gradually started to fade with your walls there to nestle him. He began to move inside you again with the pace that better worked for him, unable to linger any longer.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” you purred. “Come for me.”

It didn’t take long for his own orgasm to take over. His lips sought yours through unfiltered moans as he bottomed out one more time, sloppy and demanding. You kept your calves firmly over his back when soon you felt his warm liquid spilling inside you and your throath was filled with the hot vibration of his groans. You wished to have the ability to take in anything about him, both the good and the bad, any time you wanted or whenever he needed.

“Oh, Arth,” you sighed when he fell down on you and exhaled heavily, spent and exhausted and so, so in love with you. His back was pearly with drops of sweat when you wrapped your arms around his limp frame. You caressed his slightly damp hair and tucked him in the crook of your neck, waiting together for your breathing to even out.

“Happy anniversary, my love.”

“Happy anniversary, one and only,” came in a hushed whisper.

Just like you assumed, he searched around for your hand and carried it on his mouth to plant a kiss onto the symbol of your love, affirming in this new way of his that you were his person.

“You told me so many times today that I am your one and only person… Arthur, you are my one and only person, too.”

He hummed with contentment and let his eyes flutter close as he fell in the warmth of your embrace. You smiled to yourself, kissed the crown of his head and held him tight to your bare chest, sinking into this moment of bliss and silence as your bodies regained energy to celebrate what remained of your special day and for your promised dance, and feeling excited to celebrate also all of your tomorrows to come. The nighttime had fallen, telling you that your tomorrow was getting closer. Arthur made all of them special, and you knew you were going to live all the tomorrows of your life with him.

Life with Arthur was simple, but never boring, for he filled every moment of magic and stardust with his old-fashioned nature and timeless charm. Every time Arthur wrapped you in that old-fashioned romance, he made you feel like you two were part of those black and white movies about love. Your favorite, filled with music and longing and magic. Yet he always managed to make your love story a little bit more magical than anything else ever.

You wanted to wake up with him for the rest of your life, and every morning, when it occured, Arthur proved you that true love existed, and that to grow old with him was indeed possible. And you did.

•••••

tag list: @arthurflecksgirl @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @sweet-nothings04 @flowerglitterwoman @forever-fleck @ajokeformur-ray

#I know some things I've included might seem a bit off since we're in the 80s #But this is what my heart feels & wanted to write & wanted to read so idc 💘🙇🏻‍♀️#In this house we're eating self-indulgent contents for breakfast today #It's the second piece I write about this concept ugh a girl is yearning #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck x you #Arthur fleck

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charliedawn · 2 years

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How would the slasher react to someone calling their so a slut? Could be a random person or another slasher.

I absolutely love your writings! You're one of my favorite writers <3

Freddy :

He thought the insult was meant for him at first and sniggered before answering unashamedly.

"You called ?"

However, when he realised who it was truly meant for ?

His smile vanished, replaced by an irrepressible urge to cut the man/woman’s tongue.

"Wanna repeat that, bucko ? I failed to hear you right the first time.."

Before the person could repeat himself, Freddy teleported behind them and raised one of his claws to the idiot’s throat.

"Now…Still so confident, asshole/bitch ? How about an apology ? And don’t play smart. I may not be the sharpest tool in the box, but I’m the deadliest.."

Freddy may not consider it an insult, but he will not allow anyone else to be an ass to you.

He’s the only one who has that privilege.

Freddy *to you* : "Hey..You're not a slut. You're my slut.."

Yeah. Not the best at comfort. Will try his best though ? You need to understand that Freddy's way of saying hello is yelling any slur at the top of his lungs.

He's got things to work on. Clearly.

Michael :

What did that idiot just say ?

Michael was cooking with you when one of the nurses scoffed the slur when walking past you.

He could see it made you upset and, pretending a shortage of tomatoes, left.

When he came back ?

He was covered in red and claimed it was tomato sauce..

He also tried to comfort you and tell you that the nurse was just jealous and offered you a hug.

The woman didn’t bother you again afterwards.

Michael *smiles underneath the mask*

The nurse will have trouble get all the tomato sauce off her and he made sure to make her understand what hurting you would entail from now on ?

Next time..He'll take a finger.

Brahms :

Brahms tilted his head in incomprehension as he stared at the person who had insulted you.

He was playing ball with you and let's say..his hand slipped.

The person received the ball in his face and held his bloody nose.

He was about to yell at Brahms, but in a few quick strides, Brahms was in front of him and was staring down at him/her like an insect about to be squished under his shoe.

The man/woman reconsidered.

He then extended his hand and the person thought he was going to kill him, but he only got the ball back and by the way his eyes squinted slightly underneath the mask..He was smiling.

He knew the person was scared for their life.

The person didn't bother you again afterwards and Brahms made sure to give him a few nasty glares for good measure whenever he would see them.

Pennywise :

One of the nurses' kid repeated what he had heard from his mother about you and Pennywise growled at him before pinning him to a wall.

"I hate rude kids..Do you wanna know what I do to rude kids ?"

Pennywise opened his mouth wide and the boy screamed and cried, trying to beg him not to kill him while Pennywise was enjoying the smell of his fear greatly.

However, he hesitated.

He wanted to take a bite, he was angry and hungry and he knew the taste would be all the more satisfying since he hurt you, but..

He looked at you and slowly closed his mouth.

He didn't want you to see him as a monster.

He let the kid go and he ran to go tell his mother.

Pennywise sighed before returning inside, not sparing you a second glance as he knew what he would see in there.

He was hungry..

Penny :

The man who insulted you didn't know Penny was there as well, until the clown took him by the throat and raised him a few inches above the ground.

"Heya, you naughty naughty person ! Do you know who I am ? Yes ? Good..Then, you know what's gonna happen next.."

Penny heard that insult too many times to know what it means.

He shamed so many of his victims with that word before..digging all of their dirty little secrets.

But you ?

You were his little pet..His to torment and shame. His to break, take apart and get back together..

He pinned the stranger to the wall and addressed him a toothy grin, showing him his sharp teeth. You begged him to stop, but he couldn't resist the urge to take a bite.

The screams alerted the soldiers that came in with darts filled with liquid silver and they shot him.

He screeched loudly in pain and you tried to stop them and explain the situation, but Penny fell to his knees and nurses came to get the wounded away from him.

Penny is the only one still unwilling to follow the rules at St Louis and will go far and beyond to protect what he holds dear..And this is what will eventually lead him to his doom.

Arthur :

Arthur wasn't there, but he had people watch over you and who warned him.

He told them to make sure they would never be able to talk to you again.

...Let's say, they suddenly became mute.

Late night visit from Joker's partners and they quickly got the message.

If he had been there ? Let's say..He would have shot a bullet in each of their knees and make them beg for mercy.

Arthur isn't merciful.

Jason :

Come here. One way ticket to strangling hug town.

The person who insulted you : "LET ME GO, YOU OVERSIZED GORILLA !" *gurgling noises*

Him *whispers* : "Apologize..."

He would wait for the person to apologize or continue their hugging session until he eventually breaks their neck.

Thankfully enough, there's something called survival instinct and most of the time ? The person will apologize before having their windpipe crushed.

Jason doesn't like rude people and certainly when they are rude to his s/o.

He may not be vocal about it, but he sure will act and make sure they apologize to you and never do it again.

Or else, hug town may be their final destination.

He may not have his machete anymore, but he can be creative when it comes to hurting/killing someone.

Five :

"Oh yeah ? Wanna say that again ? Come on. Try me.."

They clearly don't have a clue who they've been messing with.

Five would fight tooth and nail for you and always has his trustworthy baseball bat next to him in case something like this happens.

Five isn't going to let it slide and will physically attack the man/woman.

Five was admitted to St Louis for violence disorder and it took months for him to even leave his cell.

He doesn't care about being locked away for a couple of months more if it means protecting you.

Five really tries to control his temper and he's been making progress, but sometimes, it's just too much.

"Don't listen to them..They didn't mean it. They won't bother you again. I promise."

He'll try to comfort you afterwards and make you feel better by listening to you if you need to, but he would rather kick the person in the face and be over with it. 😂

Patricia :

The person mysteriously disappeared afterwards..

You aren't sure who did it, but Patricia was acting quite suspicious.

Nobody knows if they're dead or not.

They never found the body..

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #pennywise 1990 x y/n x pennywise 2017 #michael myers x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #jason voorhees x reader #freddy krueger x reader #patricia split x reader #five hargreeves x reader #arthur fleck x reader #slashers

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yandereaffections · 1 year

Text

Joker (2019) Masterlist

Lovely Social Worker S/o

Headcannons

Letter from Joker

Letter from Arthur

Taking care of a Sick S/o

S/o getting arrested for spray painting

Falling for friendly s/o who helped get his sign back

#im not bothering to make joker and arthur two different sections theyre the same person #YANDEREAFFECTIONS GOLDEN MASTERLIST #last updated 3/4/23 #joker 2019 #joker x you #yandere joker #arthur fleck #yandere arthur fleck #yandere dc #dc x y/n #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #Last updated 4/24/23

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fleckssadgirl · 4 months

Text

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

#arthur fleck #joker #joker 2019 #joker 2019 x reader #joaquin phoenix x reader #joaquin phoenix #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck fluff #christmas fluff

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into-crazy · 1 year

Text

be my valentine

Arthur Fleck x Reader drabble

Summary: Valentine's Day with Arthur♡

Warnings- consumption of alcohol, but mostly fluff, ages 18+(🍷in this case 21)

I wanted to get this out in time so I hope it's not too bad. Happy Valentine's Day💝

As Valentine's Day approaches, it's certainly not hard to notice with the numerous gifts which filled the shops in Gotham city. All the bright pink and red colors. The words I love you and Happy Valentine's Day plastered every where. Teddy bears carrying little plush hearts. Boxes filled with luxurious chocolates. Heart shaped balloons. Bouquets of flowers both real and plastic. Shelves full of cards with sentimental phrases. Various bottles of wine. The list can continue.

It fills your chest with warmth, as you find the concept of the holiday rather sweet. It's a sweetheart day. And well, you just so happen to have a very special sweetheart. Arthur Fleck.

You plan something very special for Arthur as the date comes up. From having saved up a generous amount of money and requesting to leave work early in advance, you made sure that you were prepared to pull it all together.

This past week leading up to Valentine's day, you'd spotted a perfect gift for him in the window of a gentleman's shop. There was a rack containing a few men's belts. Your eyes had instantly glued to a really nice brown one. Surprisingly it was made of durable quality for an affordable price. You immediately bought it for Arthur and hid it in your dresser under all your clothes.

You were keeping everything regarding your plans concealed from Arthur, as it was going to be a wonderful surprise for him. After all, he deserves it.

Finally, the day arrives. February 14th.

Your morning went by like usual. After work, you stopped at the local market and a second hand shop to pick up everything that you'd need before rushing home. Smiling all the way there as you're unable to contain your excitement.

Once back in the comfort of your shared home, you set the bags on the counter and waste no time in getting everything ready.

You'd found a lovely pair of smokey brown wine goblets from the thrift store. From the market, you picked up a bottle of wine, a small gift bag for the belt, a balloon to tie on the gift bag, and the ingredients needed to make chocolate covered strawberries.

After placing the wine in the freezer to chill, you get right to work on the strawberries. Your heart swells while you prepare the fruit. Dipping them in melted chocolate, then decorating them with pink and red sprinkles. They looked so pretty and very fitting for the occasion. Although, you were most excited with what you had in mind for a few of them. Some of which, you decorate with little Carnival clown smiles. Using decorative colored frostings that matched Carnival's clown makeup.

The smile on your face continues to grow wider with every smile you draw. You knew how much Arthur loves performing as the clown. So you just know that he would adore these.

Once finished, you placed the decorated fruit in the fridge so the chocolate could fully harden. They all came out perfect, especially the Carnival ones. You get everything else ready- washing the wine glasses and bagging up the gift. Then you eagerly await Arthur's arrival.

Soon enough, you hear his usual little shuffle outside the door and your heart leaps. You rush to greet him at the entrance, nearly tripping over your own feet in excitement.

Arthur steps inside and his eyes brighten as he smiles at you. In his arms, he's carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, and an envelope. He holds them out for you.

"Hey y/n, happy Valentine's day!"

"Oh, thank you so much baby!" You graciously receive his gifts. The flowers look so radiant, you bury your nose in them. "Ah, they smell lovely."

"Yeah, I picked out the very best ones for you." He nervously rubs the back of his neck. "I.. I know it's not much. But I hope you like it."

You look at him, unable to accept what he just said. Because to you, this is a lot. You know that Arthur must have saved up a lot of his hard earned money to buy you these things, when he really didn't have to. So you make sure to let him know how much you truly appreciate his gifts and his efforts. "Aw Arthur, what do you mean? This is amazing, I love it! I can't thank you enough for this, baby."

Reassured by your words, he leans in and gives you a kiss on your forehead. He is always so sweet and loving to you. "You're welcome, my love. Do you want me to hold those so you can open that?" He points to the envelope in your hand.

"Actually um, I have something that I want to show you first. Is it alright if I open this up right after?"

"Sure."

He follows you from the entryway into the kitchen. His eyes instantly widen in awe at the sight before him.

"Happy Valentine's day to you too, Arthur!" You exclaim with glee.

There on the kitchen counter, he spots a small gift bag with a heart-shaped balloon neatly tied to it. Along with two wine glasses and a platter full of chocolate covered strawberries. He notices the little Carnival smiles on some of the fruit and his eyes gleam with happiness.

He's left speechless. It takes him a moment to take it all in. He doesn't know where to even start, so you set the items in your arms down and take his hand to guide him.

"Would you like to open your gift?"

He gives a yes and you hand him his gift to open. He reaches inside and pulls out the neatly wrapped belt. Running his fingers along the leather material as he tries not to cry or break out in a laughing fit. He's been needing one of these for a while and he appreciates that you had noticed. "I love it! Thank you so much, my love."

You place a soft kiss on his cheek. "You're very welcome."

He sets the article down then sheepishly moves to caress one of the strawberries. Rather delicately, as he is afraid that he'll mess them up. He traces the red smile, taking in all the details. It's an exact likeness to his Carnival makeup. "These are- wow. You made these?"

"Yep." You can't help but giggle at his tender display of sweetness, "and it's alright, Arthur. You can pick them up. I made them just for you."

He does so at your word. Picking one up to closely admire the little red smile. You take the time to pull the wine from the fridge and pour a glass for both of you. All the while he thanks you repeatedly for the gifts. It fills you with warmth. You are delighted that he likes his Valentine's day gifts.

You hug him tightly and move in for a kiss, taking this time to thank and love one another with your mouths. As you pull away, you reply, "and thank you for my gifts, baby. How about I open up that envelope now?"

"Yeah," Arthur agrees. "I'll get it for you."

He picks it up and hands it to you. There are a bunch of tiny scribbled hearts all over the envelope. You smile at the fact that he drew them on there. Written also in his handwriting is my love in the middle of the cover. Opening it up, you find a handwritten letter from Arthur inside. You silently read the entire note, letting out a small sigh at a few sections. He poured all his love out for you in that letter.

Tears formed in your eyes, and you sniffle as you wipe them away. "I love you so much, Arthur."

"I love you too, beautiful." Arthur grins heartily and hands you a strawberry.

Simultaneously, you each silently take a bite and stare lovingly into each others eyes. Both wondering how you'd gotten so lucky.

#into-crazy #arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #joker 2019 #phoenix!joker #valentine's day

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marksbear · 1 year

Note

Hey Mark! I just finish watching Joker for the third time or so and was wondering if you could do Male reader x Arthur fleck. Just bit angst and large amount of fluff. Reader and Arthur are boyfriends but one day while having a visit with his therapist Arthur told his thearpist about reader, however his therapist convince Arthur that he is just hallucinating to the point where he really think that reder is not real. Arthur have a breakdown when he got back to his apartment. reader comforts arthur.😊

-B

Hey B! Hope you enjoy my friend.

Warnings! Fluff to angst back to fluff, Y/n is an uncle in a big family, Old lady manipulate Arthur/

ARTHUR FLECK X MALE READER

Y/n and Arthur truly did love each other. Y/n was always with him during his good and bad days. He always made sure Arthur felt good and happy for almost everything. Y/n supported Arthur during everything even when he tried to be a comedian he was still there for him. Y/n even fought for him but Arthur doesn't know that!

Right now the couple is bowling with Y/n family. Arthur was a bit nervous at first with Y/n family but was quickly accepted by the family. Y/n parents calling Arthur son and Y/n siblings and their kids calling him "the extra L/n" Which was cute to the couple.

Arthur didn't realize what was the time until Y/n dad asked his wife what was the time. "Uhh its 3:45 hun." She says to her husband. Arthur quickly freaks out and walks to Y/n who's talking to his niece that's on his lap. "Y/n.. I gotta go to y'know..." Y/n looks at his boyfriend and nods "Okay kid go to your other uncles." His niece hops off his lap running to her other uncles to bother them. Y/n takes Arthur's hand gently tells his family. "Okay everyone I know yall are gonna miss Uncle Arthur and I but we gotta go." They all say bye to the couple and the couple leaves the building going into Y/n car. Arthur gets into the passenger seat while Y/n starts the car and drives to his boyfriend's appointment. As they drive Y/n places his hand on his boyfriend's small thigh turning to him a little with a smile before kept focusing on the road.

Once the couple gets there Y/n stops the car and turns it off and gently wakes up his sleeping boyfriend. "Hey Art we made it." You whisper into his ear before tickling him awake. Arthur quickly wakes up giggling and gasping Y/n to stop. Y/n finally stops when he sees Arthur's eyes begin to water. "Good morning handsome." Y/n says teasing his boyfriend leaning to him kissing him.

Y/n leaves gentle and soft kisses all over Arthur's face as encouragement for him during his session. Arthur gladly takes his boyfriend kisses. "Okayy! Y/n I have to go!" Arthur makes sure he has all of his things with him and gives Y/n one passionate kiss on the lips before getting out of the car. "Wait Art!" Arthur turns around facing his boyfriend about to shut the door. "I love you!~" Y/n sings to him with a loving smile. "I love you too!" Arthur says back closing the door.

Y/n watches Arthur enter the building before starting the car again driving back to the shared apartment.

Arthur walks to his therapist room apologizing for being late. The session starts as regular questions and all that. Like "How are you Arthur have you been taking your medication?" and "What have you been doing this whole week." And Arthur answers with his usual short answers. But the woman notices some of the stories are missing some things and asks "Who were you with during this past week. Some of your stories are missing something or well really someone." Arthur stares at her for a while before a small smile appears.

A real smile escapes from his lips and mumbles under his breath. "Y/n and his family." The woman almost didn't hear it but she caught it. "And who is this Y/n?" Arthur face beams with a smile of the mention of Y/n. "Hes my boyfriend." Arthur says all giddy about his boyfriend. "When did you two meet?" She asked. "About six or seven months ago...but we just got together about like three months ago." He answers fidgeting with his hand and smiling down.

The woman opens her flies about Y/n and scans through them. "Arthur are you sure hes real. I mean you'd never mentioned him once and all of a sudden hes here now." Arthur gets taken back by the question but quickly answers with "Yeah hes real! i'm not that crazy... Hes my Y/n I even met his family!" "Arthur. For the past months you've been saying that you felt alone in this world. Maybe now your mind is making you imagine this "Y/n" guy as a defensive reaction so you won't go fully mad." Arthur stares at her before quickly standing up pacing around the room mumbling "Liar" and "No,no,no" The woman tries to get Arthur to sit back down but fails once Arthur runs out of the room.

Arthur goes to the bus stop still repeating "No,no" under his breath shaking and almost crying at the point that he actually is mad. Once the bus comes he goes to the back crying to himself on the window that Y/n his perfect Y/n isn't with him. Once it's his stop he rushes off the bus going to his apartment. He looks around for Y/n car but doesn't see it anywhere. He quickly gets in the apartment rushing to the elevator and basically smashing the buttons to go to his floor. Once they arrive at the floor he runs to his room unlocking the door and closing it and locks it behind him. "Y/n! no no noo! Y/n where are you!" He walks around the apartment looking for anything that proves that you're actually real.

But he sadly doesn't find anything and falls to the ground crying and beating the floor. He lays there for hours crying onto the floor not noticing the door being unlocked and a "Art you here?" Y/n walks around the place looking for his boyfriend but once he finds him almost half passed out gasping for air and crying. You quickly wrap him in your arms and your hands running up and down his back. "Shh. Sh. Baby don't cry what's the matter?"

Once Arthur hears your voice he immediately brings Y/n into a tight hug whimpering and crying onto him. "Y-you are real..." Y/n hears him cry into his shoulder. "Yes baby... I am real and I don't plan on going anytime soon.

THE END

#joker x male reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x male reader #x male reader #dc x male reader #the bear club

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montimer · 11 months

Text

Insecure

Arthur x gn reader

Summary: you are insecure about you're body, Arthur will change ur opinion.

Hc's

Warning: a bit angst,fluff,comfort

You were feeling insecure. You didn't feel good in ur body. How could Arthur love you?

It kept you up at night. Hes perfect,and ur not. He deserves better.

It made you cry. Why? Why are you like this?

You heard ur door open. Shit

"Y/n? Are you alright,i heard something?" His sweet voice hit ur ears. You were showing ur back to him. "Im fine" you managed to say, tears still falling from ur eyes.

You hoped he would leave, oh but you knowed he wouldn't. He was more concerned now.

"Are you sure?...Y/n,talk to me please."

You finally turned to him. Ur eyes were full of tears. You looked so broken.

He quickly went to you and hugged you close. His head was full of toughts. Why are you crying? What or who made you cry? Was it him..? And most importantly,were you hiding it from him?

Once you calmed down you explained to him why you were crying

He would be mad at himself. Did he not made it clear enough how much he loves you? All of you.

So he would kiss you. All over ur body.

He keeps on telling you how much he loves you. How he thinks and knows that you are the most beatiful person in the whole world. That you are his one and only.

After a while you'll stop doubting and instead you start giggling and smiling.

He would start to tell you sweet nothings.

Hes so happy he made you feel better. He promises, you never have to worry about these things ever again. There is no way he would leave you for anybody else. You are perfect.

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck joker #arthur fleck angst #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck x male reader #arthur fleck x gn reader #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur x reader #arthur x y/n #arthur x you

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these-written-reveries · 1 year

Text

Just You and Me

‣ Pairing: Arthur Fleck x GN!Reader

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

‣ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

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

‣ Word Count: 1,363

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

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

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

Arthur Fleck/P!Joker Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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

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

This time, though, was different.

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

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

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

But this time was different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x Y/N #arthur fleck fanfiction #arthur fleck fluff #arthur fleck angst #arthur fleck imagine #joker x reader #joker x Y/N #p!joker #phoenix!joker #kalistawrites

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jokerownsmysoul · 1 year

Text

a place to shelter

Summary: Arthur can tell that you need some comfort when you come home after a long day. He makes space for you on his lap, and makes sure to give you all of it.

Warnings: reader is a little down, but nothing too angsty.

Words: 4700

Notes: you ever get this vital need to lay your head on Arthur's lap? As much as I love daydreaming & writing about him laying his head on reader's lap, I really wish I could do the same with him. This piece is just the result of this need. ❤︎ I'm not sure if I expressed fully what it means to me, but I tried. More often than not meaningful things require simple words.

The thunderstorm that had suddenly burst during the afternoon seemed to put an end to the mild days that until then had warned of the arrival of autumn, coming and going between a lukewarm afternoon stroll and a crispy night like little messengers, carrying the announcement that much colder days were finally here.

Once you left work and stepped out on the sidewalk you were surprised to see that the rain had incessantly dripped down on the spiced, bright hues of autumn until they had faded away into a dark shade of grey. The sparkling sky that had refreshed the afternoons throughout October now was seasoned with ash colored, cotton-candied clouds, polka-dotting the skyline far beyond the horizon. A anthracite toned atmosphere enveloped you, as unexpected as was surreal, and very much welcomed by those like you who loved this kind of wheather.

You should bring the umbrella with you, Arthur had told you in the morning as he kissed you have-a-nice-day on the threshold. It’s cloudy outside. I think the sky wants to rain today.

Your heart softened at the memory of it. He was right, after all. He was always right. You protected yourself from the rain under the balcony of your workplace building and lifted your eyes toward the sky, a private smile on your lips as you welcomed the gift this unexpected thunderstorm carried.

The uncontrollable enthusiasm that climbed up the surface of your heart whenever it rained tried to come out by extension, to cleanse your soul of the weariness settled within you like dust. But it had been an exhausting day, and as much as the rain made you happy, this time the coolness in the air wasn’t enough to light up your spirit.

You were cold, and the grey hue that covered the vastness of the sky was reminding you of the same hue of Arthur’s grey sweater. It was standing there above you, coating everything in cloudiness, recalling the warm, woolly embraces of your dear beloved. For a moment, as you kept your eyes fixed on the grey sky, you almost felt like you really were wrapped in one of his embraces. But the grey hue kept standing there above you, not reshaping into the curve of his arms fondled around you, and you kept standing there all alone and without him. Soon, you were met with a sense of lack seeping within you that carried his name. You missed Arthur, and the stormy shaded sky even more now was making you crave for the warmth and affection of him, who still seemed too far away from where you were.

When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by If you smile through your fear and sorrow Smile And maybe tomorrow You'll see the sun come shining through For you

Suddenly you recalled those lines of that one song that used to keep you and Arthur grounded to your love and the hope to find serenity again whenever bad days occured; the lines that most represented what Arthur and his love meant to you.

You smiled to the sentimental parallelism of the situation, feeling almost as if Arthur was bringing you comfort from afar and through music, which wasn’t that far nor different from what he did every day, after all.

“Hello November,” you whispered up above you.

You held firmly your black umbrella over your head, clutching your fingers around the collar of your coat to protect you from the gusts of wind, and sped up pace along the much blessed way back home, eager to see the sun of your life shine through for you again.

You could see the grey horizon following along as you took yet another step. You felt like as if Arthur was walking with and up above you, keeping an eye on you, as you traveled across the city in the rain.

Raindrops dripped down along the contours of the black umbrella and pooled at your feet, a stained trail of rainwater on the checkered floor trailing behind your footsteps like a watered-down shadow when you hurried yourself through the doorway of your building that would lead you to your special darling man. You shook the umbrella from the extra droplets, wiggled your frozen legs, rubbed your palms together in the attempt to warm them up while your body adjusted to the barely-warmer ambient of the lobby. You hadn’t gotten to your apartment yet, but Arthur was getting closer, and this was enough.

But first, you briefly detoured on your path and instead of reaching the elevator you headed to the mailbox to check if the California postcards you and Arthur were eagerly waiting for had been delivered. You’ve fallen in love with his dreamy inclination to collect postcards of places he had never been in but dreamed of. The fondness and care that Arthur put in this longing of his soul almost made you want to cry for how sweet and genuine collecting those postcards was, for what it meant to him. There was so much purity of soul in it. In him. You were happy that upon your love ever growing over time, you’d become an essential part of that, too.

You loved collecting them together now, hanging them up above your nightstands as he already liked to do, on the fridge, tucked in a small box or wallpapered in those perfect spots of your apartment that would’ve granted you to have them always on sight. You couldn’t wait to take photographs of those wonderful beaches yourself and buy new postcards in places you would’ve visited together, to decorate photobooks and the apartment with your own personal snapshots carrying your unique touch and unforgettable memories throughout the journey of your shared life. It was nice to daydream with him, to support his passions and nurture his life dream of visiting California with his one and only person someday.

A meek sigh left you when you saw the metal interior completely empty. You shrugged, the squeaking noise of rusty metal echoing in the room as you turned your keys and closed the mailbox before turning back to your path.

The sight of your door was like a mirage in the desert once you left the elevator. The lingering coziness of the apartment was evident as soon as you opened the door, a real treat for your numb body and more numb heart. You placed your keys on their usual spot, left the umbrella to dry up on its stand. You took off your coat, and a sense of peace and home enveloped you when you saw Arthur’s tan jacket already hanging on the coat rack. He'd had a day off, you knew he was at home. But you could feel the intense smell of his presence lingering in the air, hovering soulprints of cotton and smoke, and that was what really reassured you that he was there.

It amazed you how just the mere feeling of finding yourself at home brought you instant relief. Your safe home, and the presence of Arthur anchored there even when the apartment was empty, acted as a nest of protection shielding you and holding out anything that could hurt you from the outside; a white cloth that wiped away anything unknown from your soul, even in the most distant or hard to reach corners. Everything external soon felt far, far away from you, saved from the thunderstorm scoring beyond the windows.

“Sweet heart, I’m home,” you called out softly. A grin flashed through your lips when you heard no answer, guessing already in what he was absorbed as you secured your coat close to his jacket. You could easily envision his eyes lost somewhere else, focused on his thoughts and funny observations. Before going to find him you stalled on your track and took a minute to lay a gentle caress full of fondness along the tan fabric of the big hoodie.

As you suspected, it was a half-written page of his journal what was keeping him so absorbed. But you were surprised to notice that rather than sitting in his writing corner he had gotten comfortable on the couch, the lamplight turned off despite him sitting right below it, the journal carefully resting on his knees clad in baby blue.

A smile filled your cheeks at the chance of seeing him again after a tiring day. His eyes were still glued down to the page when you walked behind the couch and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. A joyful whimper caused his upper body to tremble in delight while your hands landed to his front, making him grow conscious of your presence.

“Hi,” you coaxed into his ear, nose nudging his sideburn before you planted a soundly kiss to his cheek. He chuckled at the «mwah» echoing from your lips to within the living room, your enthusiasm and the longed comfort of your embrace bringing him to turn his focus on you.

He put his ballpoint pen down, angled his head towards you and gazed at you with clear relief. “Hi,” he answered back. “You're here.”

You nodded and nestled his face, squeezing your arms around him a little tighter. “I'm here.”

“Did the rain catch you?”

“No, your umbrella kept me safe all the way home,” you cooed. “But I need to warm up and get into something more comfortable.”

He held your hands, carrying them to his lips to kiss your freezing knuckles. “I’m glad. I was getting worried.”

“I was in good hands. I felt you with me the whole time,” you said. A thought dawned on you. “I checked the mailbox, still nothing.”

“The postcards want to make themselves wait. I get it,” he sighed, then you heard a low giggle leaving his lips. “That’s what dreams do.”

“I think you’re right.”

You perched further over the back of the couch where the green blanket was resting to hold his cheek, pulling his face toward you as you sought the connection of his lips you couldn’t wait any longer to taste. He leaned back in, the pliant warmth of his lips meeting the numbness of yours. You let his mouth guide the kiss as you molded to his smooth moves, coating your mouth like a blanket, keeping your lips warm with the warmth of his affection seeping in and the longing to see you that had grown inside him throughout the day. You reluctantly pulled apart. “I’m gonna go change, don’t go anywhere.”

He chuckled. “I won’t, ma’am.”

You kissed his cheek just one more time and rushed to the bathroom for a short refreshment of shivering limbs. You followed the next step of self care in the bedroom, where you opened one of Arthur's drawers to borrow his wooly, white-cream cardigan you've knitted for him and a pair of his pajamas pants. You paused for a second to sniff the irresistible hints of Arthur's scent still lingering in between each stitch, closing your eyes before pulling the cardigan over your shoulders and tying the knot of his pants firmly around your waistline to keep them from falling. You looked funny in them and you loved them even more for that. After all, fun was the sentiment that filled your relationship with Arthur, your laughter blossoming from any corner of your loving any time of the day. The grasp of Arthur’s clothes across your skin was keeping you warm and dizzy enough to yearn to come back to him and reconnect with the direct comfort of his body.

When you stepped back in the living room the bluish atmosphere of the approaching dusk had settled in, a opaque haze filling the living room coming from the storm outside the windows. The apartment was made even darker by the presence of the thunderstorm that still continued its persistent ascend over Gotham City and prevented the beans of sunlight to step in. Arthur was waiting for you on the couch, lamplight strangely still turned off despite getting dark soon, journal still opened on his knees and ballpoint pen flowing through words, through worlds.

He raised his eyes and gave you an inviting smile as a request to go to him as soon as he heard the sound of your bare feet on the floor, twinkling in the contentment to see you in your bedtime attire, which meant he could finally have you all for himself. He didn't have to ask you twice. He knew that your need to wear his own clothes intensified when you didn't feel at your best and needed just that extra touch of comfort only he could provide, so he made sure to keep an eye on you as the evening flowed by.

“Why won’t you turn on the lamp? It’s getting dark,” you wondered.

He snorted. “It’s cozier that way.”

“Yeah,” you considered, observing the natural hints the rainlight gave your home, as romantic as candlelight. “I like it better that way, too.”

You stroked his hair for a quick shared moment of tenderness to catch up the mutual lack for each other as you passed him by before heading to the kitchen. “I’m making some tea, want some?”

“Sure. Thank you.” You heard behind your shoulders.

You filled the tea kettle to the brim, then turned on the stove. Your favorite mugs were already ready to use, resting on the sink upside down where you had left them the night before to dry. So instead of getting them ready you fished for two different teabags of your and Arthur’s favorite tea and put them in each correspective mug. You loved to prepare meals for him, especially the hot ones that would granted his soul some relief and restore his tummy. You really loved to give him a whole lot of a little bit of warmth. With the rain thundering in the distance, a hot tea was exactly what you both needed to conquer the colder evening.

The preparation phase was as cherished as the moment when he would take a sip and the hot liquid in his throat would cause satisfaction in his dimpled smile and gratefulness in his gaze as he looked at you. You relished in every little step of the path of taking care of him. Knowing what mug he adored and what he liked, making sure to buy the right ingredients at the grocery store, adding in his mug the flavour of honey he preferred most. He drank black coffee but liked a generous teaspoon of honey in hot drinks, either tea or infusions.

One of the reasons that made this brand of tea your favorite, were the short quotes written on the square sheet of paper at the extremity of each teabag. Something that you cherished more than any fortune cookie. You and Arthur loved to undisclose them, read them together every time you made tea and collect them along with the postcards. You kept them safely in a wooden box or pressed in a specific journal that you shared when a quote spoke intimately to your hearts just a little bit louder. You did not peek as you waited for the tea kettle to sing. You wanted to read them with him.

Instead, you took a look at the kitchen window to your left. Beyond it, the building contours in front of you looked undefinable, covered by a thick cloak of rain that was still falling down fiercely at a steady pace, tapping on the glass like small pebbles thrown by a lover standing on the street below in search of the attention of his damsel, ready to serenade and hopefully courtship her until a unforgettable kiss would occur across the balcony. You took a mental note to dig out a heavy blanket from the closet after dinner in case you woudl’ve needed it overnight.

You were happy to go back to your own personal damoiseau when the tea was finally ready.

“Here you go,” you said, handing out his pink steaming mug to him once you walked back on the living room. “Be careful, it’s very hot.”

Ballpoint pen and journal were put aside on the armrest before he took it with both hands and a soft smile.

He made space for you next to him as you kicked off your slippers and curled up on the couch into the cozy nook his side provided, as close to him as you could. You both took a sip. You tried to swallow along with the tea also your exhaustion, the hot mug warming up the aching spots of your fingers wrapped around it. He turned his focus toward you once the hot mug left his lips; one of his hands instinctively drifted to your ankles, fingers grazing down over your feet for fleeting caresses.

“Your feet are cold,” he considered. Quickly, he made sure to rub his fingers across your toes to warm them up. His hand felt particularly heated after he'd held the mug. The delicate warmth of it, of his weathered palm on you, made you shiver even more so than any thunderstom ever could.

“Guess I’ll need to steal your socks again,” you said with a small smile. You watched him as he grinned, then carried your leg across his lap and started kneading your skin with thoughtfulness. His movements distilled confidence, proof that he knew exactly how to take the situation in hand, how to touch you. Your feet tended to freeze a lot during winter; whether it was through his caresses, his feet clad in white socks cupping your own under the covers overnight to warm them up or through a stolen pair for you to wear, Arthur would always take care of the matter.

You melted into his care and brought a hand to his bedhead, combing back the messy locks the way you bet he’d repeated countless times over the day. His eyelashes fluttered in bliss for a second, your eyes gazed into one another, rejoining with the rediscovery of each other after a long day. “I love coming back from work and finding you already home, waiting for me,” you told him. Coming home and seeing him there felt like to get into bed and find the bedsheets already warmed up for you by someone who longed your return. “I thought about you all day.”

“Me too.” His attempt of drawing himself closer was unsuccessful. With hot mugs in hand it was near impossible to deepen your closeness without burning each other. He opted for slipping his hand under your pijama to drag deeper, elongated brushes along your calf, the goosebumps in your belly not to be missed. “I heard this song on the radio that I wanted to dance with you.”

“Really? I would’ve love to hear it,” you huffed. You lowered one hand onto his, halting his traveling on you to trace the swollen veins running across the back of his hand, your fingertips gently grazing the beloved dimple at the base of his thumb as you sought for his contact. “Would you sing it to me now?”

His eyes sparkled in an instant. You clung to the sleeve of the brown cardigan he was wearing, his white shirt peeking out from underneath it, hoping he would never let you go as he nodded enthusiastically and started to hum for you the beats he could remember by memory. Arthur had in him this innate nature of always remembering any melody he came across during the day. There was always a song stuck in his head, unfurling and ready to come out, either heard on the radio or a new one created in his mind. More often than not, you would catch him swing or whistle to it to express himself freely; with you, or alone unaware of you gazing at him from afar.

You closed your eyes and listened to the sweetness of his voice, letting him be the fulcrum of everything around you. His voice was your favorite song.

Minutes rolled by, and Arthur witnessed your alertness faltering, your shoulders sinking into his cardigan on you, how you were growing silent as you took another sip and your focus started to drift off to the company of the music inside him. He leaned in and paused the tune to kiss your forehead. “Is everything alright?” He asked, a question he already knew the answer of.

“I think I’m just very tired,” you said. “Nothing that being with you can’t fix.”

He understood what you were trying to say and gave you a tender, sympathetic smile. Days like this that he himself had gone through were plenty. The level of fatigue would increase to the point of affecting his heart even more so than his body, and he wished to return home to loving arms ready to hold his fallen tears and comfort him into relaxation.

“Come here.” His voice was inviting when he gestured you to come closer and carefully put his mug next to the lamp on the small table beside him, then freed your mug from your grip that he put on the coffee table in front of you. You didn’t oppose, and let Arthur guide you to turn onto your side so that you could lay your head on his lap. He showed you how much you really, really needed this.

He was warm and comfortable as he cradled you safely onto him. You didn’t waste time and sank into his hold with a soft hum as you adjusted to the new position, legs curled on the couch and your head resting on his lap. The pads of his fingers were gentle and considerate when he began to stroke your hair. He always got you. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you nuzzled his lap, the fabric of his baby blue pants soft under your cheek. You couldn’t help yourself but caress the outline of his pretty knee with your pads in tender circles. “I want to listen to your voice.”

“Okay,” he said softly.

He began to hum again the melody left imprinted inside him since morning, the balmy timbre of his voice echoing and intermingling with the pitter-patter of the rain in the background. His voice soon lulled you into a state of peacefulness.

As you listened to him, you thought about how much his voice and the comfort of him were more soothing than any hot cup of tea, how easily he managed to restore your inner numbness with the warmth of his good heart.

He seeped into you, warmed you from the inside like the first sip of hot coffee that brought relief down your throat, a handmade cardigan shielding the shivers running along your back. Arthur was like holding a hot mug during winter with freezing hands and finding relief in its heat, a glow cleansing all your senses. You were so grateful to him for loving you that way. For being there with you, always so present, for walking in the space of your distress and following you on its road wherever you needed to go until you would feel better, without you having to ask him.

As he sang for you, his fingers kept stroking your hair all along, following a soothing pattern that spoke of how much he cared for you. There was so much strenght that his hands managed to stir within you.

Your eyelids soon started to grow heavy, accompanied by his soporific humming. Although your distress remained there, you could feel it stepping aside a little to welcome something new, something that felt a lot like solace.

You wanted to give in to this much-needed slumber, but before you could your eye fell on your mug resting on the coffee table in front of you. The papered extremity of the teabag was hanging from the mug in a strategic way that allowed you to read the quote written on it.

“Let your heart guide you,” you recited by default over his humming.

“Mhm?”

“What the daily quote in my teabag reads today. Let your heart guide you,” you repeated. You turned onto your back, locked your eyes with his when his face came into your view. “I guess I did. It guided me to you.”

Your heart lept when his gaze brimmed with tenderness. “I’m glad you did,” he said with a relieved smile, thumb tucking a stray lock behind your ear. “I'm glad that your heart knew my steps,” he added with a more serious tone.

You both knew what the other was thinking as your eyes soaked into one another; thoughts of how grateful you were that your hearts had known how to find each other.

Your hearts would always be guided to the other half.

He marveled at you from above, corners of his eyes crinkled irresistibly followed along your features, and you felt again fondled in his embrace. This time, thank God, you really were. “It's a special quote. We should put it on the journal.”

A lovesick, sleepy smile blossomed on your face, filled with the blessing of him being yours. You nodded. “Yes. Let's put it there.”

He held your cheek like the most precious little thing and leaned down, enveloping your lips into a thoughtful kiss. His hair tickled your face; a sweet-smelling, brown kind of curtains to cut off the world around you. His honeyed tongue tasted sweet as he swiped it in between your lips to pull your own into a flavored embrace, making you sigh for the reverence he poured inside your soul.

Ever-growing green eyes gaped at you when he pulled away, soft curls whispered along his cheekbones and hung towards you as though they wanted to reach you again, the extremely squishy skin under his chin begging for your nibbling. His wrinkles looked so pretty. You lifted your hand up and carried it on his face, caressing with your pads the deep hollow carved onto his cheek that you knew would expand and turn into a dimple whenever he smiled. It didn’t take long. The corners of his mouth bent upwards and just as you thought there it was, that irresistible dimple coming to life under your fingertip. He was ravishing.

“I thought thunderstorms were the most beautiful thing this world could ever give me, but then I saw you,” you declared as a soft-spoken poem, completely enamored of all that he was. You yawned and your eyes barely managed to stay open.

Arthur ducked his chin, a blushy giggle before your sweetness. He could tell it had become difficult for you to resist the drowsiness that was pressing on your eyelids. “You need to sleep,” he encouraged you gently.

With a sigh, you turned onto your side so that you could face him and snuggled comfortably onto his lap. You laid a chaste kiss on his tummy that made him giggle as you nuzzled closer into the cocoon that was him, burying your face in the fabric of his brown cardigan. His smell made you dizzy. He took the green blanket resting on the back of the couch and draped it over your shoulders.

Everything was warm around you; his body present for you, his voice, the green blanket that smelled of him. There was nothing you couldn’t overcome if he was there.

“You’re better than any cup of tea on a rainy day, Arth,” you mumbled at last as you closed your eyes, unable to stay awake much longer.

“Sleep, my darling, sleep well,” he said in hushed whispers. “I’ll make you a nice dinner when you’ll wake up. I'll sing over your dreams for as long as you need.”

You let tiredness take over, lulled by the phantom of his words into a drowsy haze. Arthur started humming the tune for you again. You had no doubt that at some point during the evening you would've danced to this tune together as he’d wished to do, over dinner or barefoot before getting into bed.

You surrendered to a peaceful slumber, feeling safe and protected in the cozy place that was his lap, where you could always find some rest, healing, and that was meant to be only yours till the very end. You would always find a place in him to shelter yourself from any rainy mood.

*****

No other love can warm my heart Now that I've known the comfort of your arms No other love, let no other love Know the wonder of your spell

― no other love. ♡

•••••

tag list: @arthurflecksgirl @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @sweet-nothings04 @flowerglitterwoman @forever-fleck @ajokeformur-ray

#I found the teabag quote added in the piece while writing it🤎 don't mind me sharing a pic🙈#I wasn't sure of which quote I was going to add because I've far too many of them #But then while I was writing I made some tea and found this quote #It was perfect and not a coincidence that I got it while writing I think 🤎 I'm silly and corny what can I say I had to use it 🥺#Anyway that brown mug is my favorite🤎#Ok I'll stop oversharing in the tags now🙈#arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck

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80s4life · 2 years

Text

Arthur Fleck & The Joker SFW Alphabet

Word Count: 3,993

Status: Requested!

Ask: Yo, I know this is a BIG request but would you ever be down to do a SFW and NSFW alphabet for Arthur fleck (Phoenix joker)? 👀

@: a special anon!

A/N: I really hope you liked this one! I tried hard lmao

Fandom: Joker 2019

Relationship: Arthur Fleck x Reader, The Joker x Reader

Warnings: fluff, some angsty thinking, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of social and typical anxiety (our baby Arthur)

Masterlist DC Universe Masterlist

{gifs are not mine, credits go to @justiceleague & @fleckficgirl}

Activities – What are their favorite things to do with you? How do you spend your free time?

Arthur likes to watch TV, play board games, take a walk around the city, hang out as a family with his mother, or simply just lay in bed or on the couch and cuddle. Really, when neither of you are truly busy, Arthur just wants to spend US time and isn’t too picky about what it is.

Joker, well, he just likes to fuck, cause havoc, steal, or take a nice ride on his motorcycle. Everything else is either fruitless or doesn’t have as much action as he craves. I mean, he even hates to sleep because it requires relaxing his bones for a few hours.

Boo! – How do they feel about surprises, giving and receiving?

Arthur is the most considerate, affectionate man you’ve ever met! His gifts have meaning because if he were to give something random, he doesn’t feel like it shows how much he pays attention. When it comes to you giving him gifts, he will almost fight you in refusal because he feels that he should be the only one buying things for you. “No, that’s my job, Y/N/N. You are my gift, I can’t have this.” You make him take the damn gifts anyways, using it as your “greatest wishes and deepest desires.”

Joker loves to get you the most extravagant, expensive things when out on the city streets, causing yet another riot. It’s the most convenient and thrill-seeking way to display his love for you, in his natural habitat and where he shines the brightest. When you give him gifts, they’re mainly minuscule things with meaning, like tools and things he once said he liked. You could get him expensive things, but Joker personally only likes it when you wear the jewels. It’s a possessive symbol he uses, displaying to others that he can spoil and take mighty fine care of you.

Comfort – How do they comfort you when you’re upset? When the tables turn, do they come to you, or try to handle it themselves?

Arthur likes to comfort you by pulling you into his chest, laying on either the bed or the couch while shushing you like a baby. Sometimes, he’ll hum you a small tune, but he’ll always stroke your head and place kisses on it, hand rubbing your back in soothing circles. When Arthur is upset, he’ll be very quiet and moping but he will never directly seek out your attention. You, usually, will come to him with a hand on his lower back, whispering “Are you alright?” in his ear, and then, no matter his response, you will copy exactly as he does with you, placing kisses all over his face, neck, and hair.

Joker isn’t really the touchy-feely types, opting to place his arm around your shoulder, or pull you away and look deeply into your eyes, asking you what’s wrong and how he can help. He’s more like the materialistic version of Arthur, buying you ice cream or things that you like, but he hardy ever delves into the emotional support range. He does try his best, though, only for you. When Joker is upset, he disappears. Whether it be of someone else’s doing, yours, or his own, he never asks for your help or advice. Somehow, you track him down every time and force him to tell the truth. However, where Arthur and Joker differ is when Joker is upset, it was long-term emotions in the making, so when he breaks down, he breaks down hard and will need a shoulder to cry on or a partner in crime.

Dance – Do they like to dance with you? How good of a dancer are they?

Arthur will always dance with you, are you kidding? Learning from the TV and many dances with his dear mother, Arthur is not afraid to whisk you away in the living room at the given time and opportunity; and he’s amazing at it, too! No matter if you step on his toes, he’ll just giggle and place your feet on top of his, moving the both of you around like children.

Joker is also a very good dancer, and if he’s in a particularly romantic mood, he will dance with you as well. He can dance to any genre and efficiently at that. He can always find the rhythm and get lost in it, and it’s like heaven on earth when he takes you for a spin with him.

Excitement – How do they act when they’re excited? What excites them?

When Arthur or Joker are excited, it’s like children lost in a candy store. Their eyes shine so bright and so wickedly that it never seizes to place a smile on your face. Arthur can get excited by anything new or anything that sparks excitement from you. Joker always gets excited when he’s with you, it always means something huge will happen and it’ll be extravagant.

Future – What are their plans for the future? Do they see themselves getting married, having kids?

Arthur has always dreamed of having a huge family settling down peacefully, and having the opportunity to raise his children better than what he’d gotten, especially with never really knowing his father even when he’d met him. He wants a normal, suburban life with as many or as little children as you please, little feet running around always sparking joy in his greatest dreams. And, nothing seems better than growing old with you, his biggest supporter and greatest friend.

Joker sees himself ruling the world with you by his side. When Joker dreams of his future, he dreams of huge masses of followers, his name in bold, and the huge amount of adoration he could receive. Of course, in his industry, he wreaks havoc upon the cities of corrupted governmental ruling, so when he thinks of ruling, he thinks of this powerful beats of a man (himself) with this darling little jewel as his queen (you). Kids, however, really is a bigger topic with a lot of factors to truly consider, so we really can’t say if it’s a yes or no.

Gifts – What do they give you as presents? How often do they get you gifts?

Arthur will give you anything that sparked something within you. Like, if you saw something that reminded you of a different time or something of your hobbies, you’ll always find a wrapped gift of the same object hiding somewhere in the house. Arthur isn’t very frequent in it, knowing that too much will be overbearing, but he does it enough to catch you off guard all the time.

Joker gives you expensive clothes, jewelry, and appliances. If he thinks a particular thing will look good on you, he’s adding it to the cart and asking you to pleasure him with the sight of it on you. If he sees something you like, there’s no chance you’ll leave that spot without it. The frequency of the gifts depends on how often something catches either of your eyes, yet the surprise is still there.

Hold – How do they hold you? Cuddling, sleeping, holding hands…

Going anywhere around the city, Arthur prefers to hold your hand or guide you with a hand on your lower back. Being the gentleman and holding onto older values, Arthur will ensure that his hand is on top as if to guide and lead you as the man and protector, which also corresponds with the hand on the lower back. When you cuddle, however, Arthur doesn’t mind who is the little or big spoon as long as he can hold you and play with your hair, ears, and place kisses.

Joker doesn’t mind displaying his affection and ties with you, so when it comes to being out in public, his hand is always attached to yours. The hand placement doesn’t really matter much to Joker as much as it does Arthur. He feels that you both guide and protect each other, so when you are together, whoever takes top and bottom is really absentminded and just done without either of you paying attention. When you sleep, Joker, no matter what, wants to be big spoon or the pillow you lay on. He feels comforted and reassured to feel your light breathing at all times, and he needs to be the bigger spoon to have the notion that he is protecting you even in your sleep.

Ideal – What’s their ideal date like?

Arthur could literally go for take-out food and sit on the park benches and think of it as his best date ever. If anything, that’s the type of date he prefers. It’s simple, still romantic, and provides a sense of comfort and normality as you watch the trees dance, birds fly, and people run around. It’s also very private and allows Arthur to show the true him without torment and judgement of the general public.

If you could just, you know, blow up a bank, steal some cash, and then drive into the sunset with Joker, that’s be amazing, please. CRIME. Crime is Joker’s ideal date and it doesn’t matter what you do, just make sure it’s against the law and this man is BUZZING with adrenaline and utter attraction for you.

Jealousy – Do they get jealous easily? How do they handle it?

YES. Both men are extremely sensitive in the ways of loyalty and belonging. They didn’t really ever feel supported or loved just enough when they were children, so when you come along and others try to harness your attention, both Arthur and Joker become extremely jealous - but are jealous types in separate ways. Arthur will be shy and motion towards the fact that you are together, asking you to go somewhere private or “needing” you for something he would like help with. Joker, on the other hand, will either death stare the potential suitor while kissing you deeply or placing a firm hand on your waist, or, the man will beat the suitor down for “obstruction of property” as he likes to call it. Either way, the men see you as something special and unlike any other people, especially your love, and they simply can never let you go without fighting for you first.

Kisses – How do they like to kiss you? How frequently do you kiss?

Arthur is very sensitive and affectionate in general, so when it comes to kissing you, he prefers to simply settle his lips atop of yours. If you are in a more intimate setting, he usually waits for you to initiate a little tongue action. If he had to choose, he loves to leave butterfly or Eskimo kisses as they are cute, intimate, and sweet. He loves when you peck him on top of his head from behind or simply place any small kiss on his skin, and they are usually an everyday thing like when leaving or greeting one another.

The Joker is a more bold partner, and as such, he loves to leave head, neck and forehead kisses. However, is he had the chance to, make-outs are his preferred method as he cannot get enough of you, meaning lots of tongue and wrapped tightly in his arms. He doesn’t really like the quick, sweet kisses as he prefers for you to stay longer and truly show your affection for him at times when you get the chance. Frequency in kissing depends on your days and business; if you guys really don’t have time for each other, he’ll settle for a quick peck on the lips in passing - only if he really has to, though.

Love – How do they show you that they love you?

Arthur loves to just generally be near you and care for you, even when you’re healthy and well. When you’re stressed with work or some personal issues, he’s the type to pull you away from whatever your working on, knowing your ticks and quirks and knowing you need the break, and take you out for lunch or cuddle with you for a few minutes. Arthur checks over your well-being silently and observes you without the stress of feeling like you’re a burden to him. He’s just good like that.

Joker likes to show his love for you by remaining close and sharing looks only you can observe, even in public settings and riots. He’ll hold you hand in his and just stare at you with this look that’s just so pure and so full of adoration. He tries to buy you the prettiest things to make you feel just as valuable. He takes you on adventures so that you don’t feel like your life is wasted away when you’ll look over it in the future. He may seem off-putting and cold, but there are methods to his madness and true love meddled in the fine details.

Melt – What do you do that absolutely makes them melt?

When Arthur is too busy or caught up in his own world, when you pull him away from his work and spend time with him is all he needs to melt. He also likes when you sneak up on him and press a kiss behind his ears or play with his hair when he’s too busy to really focus. Your his protector just as he is yours, and just the thought of you standing behind him in his lowest points is all he could ever ask for.

Joker is a very hard person when it comes to knowing what makes him melt, it really depends on the day. One day you could hold his hand and it really could feel like a commonality, but if you do it another day, it could almost make his heart race and create the biggest smile. Everything you do is a wonder to him and there really is nothing too special that’ll make him melt, even if you don’t always see it.

Nicknames – What do they call you, and what are their favorite things to be called?

Arthur:

Sweetheart

Baby

(My) Love

Sweetie

Sunshine

Babe

Pearl

Darling

ANYTHING ARTHUR CAN THINK OF

Joker:

Lover

Sexy

Babe

King/Queen/Royalty

Sugar Momma

Peach

Sugar/Sweetness

Beautiful

You (for both):

Handsome

Babe

King

Love

Hero

Protector

One and Only

My Man

God (namely for Joker because he lives for that shit)

Obvious – How obvious do they make it that they like you?

Neither men are particularly good at hiding their attraction. Arthur is stuttering, bashful and always determined to help or be around you in some way. Joker is always asking you to do something or find a reason to be stuck with you for a while. Either way, they think they aren’t being too obvious when they’re really straightforward and set on being around.

Pets – Do they have pets? Do they want them?

Arthur doesn’t have pets but adores them all the same, any pet any types. He loves the idea or raising something of his own and feeling the pride of taking care of it as well as he can. And, if you do get any type of animal, they love him more - much to your sadness.

Joker doesn’t have any animals either but doesn’t really mind them. He’s most likely settle for a cat or dog because they are typical and you most likely wanted them. He isn’t too keen on taking care of himself, so he’ll be more scared of the pet dying because he was unable to do any better with another living thing.

Quiet – How are the calm, quiet moments with them?

Bliss. Arthur shines in personal quiet times and actually prefers them over everything else. His language is better in the quiet where you are just able to coexist with one another without much of any expectations or verbal communication.

Joker, surprisingly, can get in the mood to just want to be quiet and alone with you. Sometimes, Joker does have a period of wanting to be alone and drained with you - albeit very, very small periods of time. You don;t have to do anything and he’ll be happy, just recharging and hanging out with his favorite person.

Romance – How romantic are they? What are their go-to ways of being romantic?

For Arthur, this is a very stupid question, are you kidding me? You have to be because he loves to be romantic and the same as when you are with him. He loves the thought of making your blood heat up and making you bashful with the simple acts of kindness romance can bring. Even in the bedroom, romance is key and where he thrives.

Joker is a romantic in his own way. He’ll hold your hand, help you up, and hold you to him in intimate and personal moments. Though, Joker is very quiet at these times and if you were to voice his little shows of affection, he’ll deny and turn away; a very short fuse and doesn’t really like when his small quirks are voiced.

Safe – What makes them feel safe and comfortable around you?

With Arthur, it’s always about the eyes. Surprising or not, Arthur does have some form of anxiety and if he has the chance to just be able to see you across the room, he knows he’s safe and that you’re there cheering for him. You know and can see the emotions in his eyes that others typically overlook; you know when he’s had enough, needs a helping hand, or just needs you near.

When he’s acting up as the villain of Gotham and being the notorious leader of other vigilantes, knowing you’re either far way or right beside him in the chaos allows him the sense of safety and a calming warmth to settle in his bones.

Tend – How do they act when you’re hurt or sick, and vice versa?

Arthur doesn’t freak out per say, but he will be at your bedside until the sickness is over and insist that you rest and never even lift a finger. You cannot make your own food, shower alone, or even walk yourself over to the couch to watch some TV - no, this is all the things he’s destined and supposed to do. Arthur will even have you sit up just so he can fluff your pillow. Although he doesn’t expect the same treatment or want to be a hassle, you show him the same love and affection, sometimes even jokingly doing just as he does so that he’ll roll his eyes and laugh.

Joker is a bitch when he’s sick and will have outbursts like a child, but even when he basically demands attention, he’ll turn you away and want to do everything himself, stating that he’s fine. However, when he gets tired enough or passes out, you’ll take his temperature, place cold towels on his head, and make him bowls of soup. Though, when you’re the one that’s sick, Joker acts like Arthur but more laid back and chill about it, he knows this is just a temporary fix.

Unique – What’s an unusual thing about them that’s oddly charming?

Joker loves to play with your hair or your hands when he’s tired or just absentmindedly hanging around you. If you have hair, he likes to make little braids that you often don’t find until later. Or, if you don’t have hair or it’s too short, he likes to trace your hands and play with your fingers. He also mumbles when he reads and sometimes doesn’t even realize it until you snort or snap a picture of him, listening to the story right along with him.

You love when the Joker ties his hair back into a messy bun or when it is just tied out of the way while he works. It’s a rare sight and just it being a sign of him out and about and just working is very hot to you. You also adore his goofy smile and laugh lines where his eyes sqint and cheeks pull tight when he’s generally happy.

Variety – Do they prefer to keep things the same, or spice it up?

Commonality and comfort - keep it the same. Arthur does like to try new things, but they have to be small and lead into a bigger change slowly as he doesn’t want to do anything too out of the realm of what is known too him. He’s a bit anxious in this sense.

Nothing is really ever the same with Joker, something is always brand new and spiced up. That’s what keeps things fun and exciting with him. It doesn’t have to be too drastic, but if it is new, that’s good enough for him.

Wash – What’s it like taking a bath with them, or helping them wash up after a fight?

Arthur prefers long bubble baths and just for the two of you to relax. When you’re in need of a quick wash, you both love to suds each other up and massaged all the tense muscles, scrub each other’s hair. It’s cute and loving and you guys can’t get enough.

Joker LIVES for when you clean him up after a fight, washing away all the blood and then helping to wrap his knuckles and bandage the cuts when you’re out. However, any shower or bath with the Joker becomes at least one type of porn we’ve all seen, okay? Let’s be real and honest.

XO – How do they show you affection? How much PDA are they willing to show?

Arthur prefers to just hold you, really; be it your hands, a hug, or even just being near each other. He isn’t too picky or too shy with PDA, you just bring it out of him.

Joker prefers to wrap an arm around your shoulder or hand on your hip as a statement. You his and he is yours, no one should ever come between that; PDA is a must.

Yearn – What do they do when they miss you?

Arthur will call you, send you a little text, or leave little love notes. He’s simple in this aspect and not afraid to tell you he misses you. If your with him, why should he be ashamed to admit that he had feelings to begin with? Arthur is truly understanding and very cooperative in this aspect and he knows that connection and trust builds stronger bonds.

Joker will sneak up on you and meet you wherever you are, in or out of state. Joker isn’t one to really voice his thoughts or feelings, but you’re a very good reader, he doesn’t need to tell you because you already know. You either visit him in your free time or he’s already bounding towards you, there is not in between. Love has no wait.

Zzz – How do they act when they get sleepy? How is it sleeping in the same bed?

Arthur is generally a cuddly stuffed animal nonetheless. When he’s sleepy, he’ll pile on the cuddles and head nudges but still allow you your time to finish what you need to get done. He’s never too pushy in having a little extra fun in bed unless you allow it or ask him for it, but otherwise, he pulls you close and spoons you as either little or big spoon.

Joker is very cranky when its comes to being tired and it’s more because it pisses himself off to the fact that he’s even drained of energy in the fist place. He loves to live on the go, so being tired is the most annoying thing for him and yourself to endure. When you finally get to bed, he insists on pulling you into him and using you as his own Joker-sized-Teddy-Bear.

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck sfw alphabet #the joker #joker 2019 #joker x reader #joker imagine #joker sfw alphabet #joaquin phoenix #joaquin phoenix x reader #joaquin phoenix imagine #joaquin phoenix sfw alphabet

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charliedawn · 2 years

Note

Slashers reaction to the reader falling down a highest building yet still alive on the ground and the reader is now like "i was expecting a trampoline to catch me i guess i missed it"

Freddy saw you fall and hesitated for a moment before finally coming to check in on you.

Freddy : "Yo. Are you dead ?" *pokes you to make sure*

You *gasp back to life*

Freddy *screams* : "WHAT IN THE...?! HOW ?!"

Freddy was surprised to find you still alive. I mean..Who would survive that ? Besides the slashers of course. But, he ended up bursting out laughing and hit your back amically.

"Good job, kid ! Amazing prank ! Say..How did you do it ? From one prank master to another ?"

Freddy wouldn't be that worried, he does that kind of thing all the time and it was high time someone did the same. He was worried at first, but once he knew you were fine, he was proud and impressed that you would pull such a good prank on him.

When they saw you fall, Kevin was holding the light, but they all started running to catch you.

Fortunately, they succeeded in getting a hold of you in time and roll to the floor in their hurry. Kevin's heart was racing as he stood up and stated checking on you.

"Are you alright ?! Did you break something ?! Are you hurt ?!"

They were all worried, but were surprised when you dusted your clothes nonchalantly and shrugged absent-mindedly.

You : "I thought there would be a trampoline to catch me..But, oh well. I'm glad you were there."

The Horde couldn't believe their ears and Dennis took the opportunity to take the light and you could feel their grip tighten as he took over.

"Do not ever do that again..Okay ?!", he demanded authoratively.

You agreed and he let out a sigh of relief before hugging you tightly. They really thought you were a goner.

"Are you stupid ?", Pennywise asked in disbelief when you landed.

He knew you were alive and only crouched next to you to wait until you had regained consciousness. He knew humans were crazy, but you had just proved his point so bluntly that he just had to ask.

"Have you heard of survival instinct ? Do you even have one of those ?"

You didn't answer and Pennywise shook his head before grabbing you by the back of the neck to get you up on your feet. He then let his mask of constant jaded attitude fall to ask worriedly.

"...Are you hurt ?"

Pennywise may look unbothered by everything, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care.

"Hum..Are you okay, human ?"

Penny asked when you landed on your face and was a little worried you were dead at first, but was immediately reassured when he saw you move.

He then looked up at the place you had fallen from and giggled before jumping in the air to fall from where you had.

He landed next to you with his arms and legs spread rather comically and laughed when he looked up to find Pennywise standing there, his hands in his pockets and an eyebrow raised, highly unimpressed.

"Having fun I see ?"

Penny and you giggled together while Pennywise rolled his eyes, turning around to get back to his rocking chair. He knew you two would be fine.

Joker didn't know what you were doing until you tilted forward and started falling. He ran to catch you, but was too late as you landed harshly on the ground. He immediately knelt beside you and rolled you over to check for any major injury, but was relieved to find none.

"Are you okay, sweetie ?", he still asked worriedly and you answered with a wide grin.

"Yup. Sorry. I thought the trampoline would catch me."

Joker frowned before looking up at the tall building you had just fallen from and shook his head.

"Even a trampoline wouldn't have helped you, you fell from too high and you would have knocked your teeth off..Are you sure you are alright ?"

He was starting to wonder if you had a concussion, but kept it to himself before smiling.

"You gave me quite the fright, you know ?"

You giggled to yourself and nodded.

"I know..I saw you running. Quite the performance."

He laughed heartily at that.

"Not as impressive as yours. I'm sure."

Joker wouldn't stay upset too long and would laugh it off as soon as he would be certain you are alright.

Michael had a heart attack when he saw you jump. He let everything he had in his hands clatter to the floor and ran so fast, he was sure he would trip and fall. Fortunately, he felt a boost coming from deep inside of him and knew Myers was helping him.

He caught you and cradled you into his arms, glancing up and down for any sign of injury. When he was sur you were fine, he waited for an explanation with a quizzical frown.

"Sorry..I thought a trampoline would catch me..", you explained with a small apologetic smile and his frown only deepened as he thought of the jump..It was very strange you would act so recklessly, but he wasn't going to question you too much.

He only grunted understandingly before putting you down. But, as you were about to run away, he gripped your shoulder and shook his head negatively.

He wouldn't let you go and do something like that again.

He forced you to stay by his side for the rest of the day for protection.

"Tell me. When did you lose your mind ?", Five asked you after he time-jumped to save you.

He was enjoying his morning coffee when he saw you fall.

He sighed and took another sip of his coffee before jumping back in time to stop you. He knew you were probably fine, but better safe than sorry.

When you said you thought there would be a trampoline to catch you, he shook his head in disbelief before answering you on a matter-of-factly tone.

"The trampoline was moved a few weeks ago. You were there. And even if it was still there, it wouldn't have caught you from that distance. You would have ended up with both of your knees broken. At best."

Five would make sure it doesn't happen again and lock you up if necessary, so he may have a day of peace.

Jason would be concerned and look around for help or bring you back inside. However, he wouldn't be that worried. He knows it's dangerous, but has witnessed a lot of people jumping and surviving.

He used to throw people through windows and some of them got up, some of them didn't..But, most of the time, he had to finish the job himself.

So, he would first try to find out if you're in one or the other category. He shook you back and forth to wake you up and was relieved when you opened your eyes. At least, you were still alive.

He smiled and then ignored your complaints when he started carrying you around.

Jason wouldn't let you get hurt a second time.

Brahms heard you and it was only when you were already on the floor that he noticed you. He didn't know what happened, so he approached you and tilted his head to observe you, wondering if it was a game of some kind.

When he realized you could be hurt, he panicked and ran inside to warn the nurse/staff.

Brahms doesn't handle stressful situations well and always tries to reach out for someone first, someone who could help you.

But, he wouldn't leave you if you asked and make sure you would be alright the time he went back inside to seek for help.

Brahms would be confused when he would see you stand up and act as if nothing happened. He would follow you around and make sure you really are alright before returning to his jovial self.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #pennywise 1990 x y/n x pennywise 2017 #michael myers x reader #slashers #brahms heelsire x reader #jason voorhees x reader #freddy krueger x reader #the horde x reader #five hargreeves x reader #arthur fleck x reader

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yandereaffections · 2 years

Note

A lady helps Arthur Fleck get his sign back and befriends him, which eventually turns into romance.

The whole time he stares at you, struggling to say anything within the weezing from his chest as you put all the gathered items you picked back up for him into arthur's arms, smiling through the silence and wishing him a good day. As your mind wanders while walking away you can hear the man you just helped struggle with putting down the sign before hearing him call out for your attention, honking his clown nose at you with a wide smile as a sort of thanks

Arthur's mind is filled with you the rest of the week, he is overwhelmingly delighted to have made a new friend and won't stop talking to you to his other clown coworkers. When he sees you passing on the street again the best clown act will be put on, smiling at you with direct eye contact like mad man until you pass by, to which he'll drop everything just to follow you and possibly get the confidence to even talk to the person he's been thinking about each second of the day

The more you let this man be apart of your life no matter the strange behaviors or laughing fits he'll begin digging his way deeper and deeper into every aspect of your world, you'll know a lot about him but certainly not nearly as much as he's figured out about you. By the way if you dare show another person way too much kindness for a friend or stranger Arthur would struggle against the idea of taking you and keeping you for himself, kidnapping or otherwise fills his mind so quickly, be careful.

#arthur fleck #yandere arthur fleck #arthur x you #yandere joker #joker x y/n #joker imagine #joker 2019 #dc x you #yandere dc #dc imagines #dc headcanon #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere x you #yandere x y/n

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fleckssadgirl · 4 months

Text

𝓑𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓱

Arthur Fleck x Reader

Warnings: None :)

A lil' fluffy, please enjoy.

𓆑𓆑𓆑

There weren't enough words in the dictionary to describe how tired you felt. Even exhaustion, one of which you used frequently, was not adequate to the sensation of your lids falling like heavy gates. The attempt at studying was futile at this point, and you knew it.

Slamming your textbook shut, you huffed in frustration. Well, at least tried to, it sort of ended up more like a soft wheeze. With the amount of hours you had spent working for the past four weeks, and the added homework from your Ancient History class, it was enough to send anybody to an early grave.

You let sleep wash over you, and within seconds, your mouth fell open and all the muscles in your body relaxed.

Whether or not you were ready for the test on Roman emperors, you weren't bothered enough to read through Hadrianus' memory card for a third time.

𓋹

The feeling of cold drool on your chin was the first sensation you awoke to. The second, was a dull pain in your neck which you massaged wincing at the uncomfortable position in which you had slept.

Blinking rapidly, you cleared the fog out of your eyes.

You checked the clock.

7:30

Jesus, you slept for three hours?!

You quickly scrambled for your notebooks and pens strewn across the library floor. Without looking, you stood up and knocked your elbow into a bookshelf.

"Son of a..." you whispered in pain, clutching your elbow.

"Are you ok?"

Your eyes finally glanced upward and were met with a face.

You glared at the bookcase, and turned back to the man of whom had addressed you.

"I'm fine. I just overslept." you mumbled slightly.

He was looking at you, very intently as if to see your secrets hidden beneath your own eyes. You swore you had never felt so vulnerable from just a stare.

"Oh." he seemed to be out of anything else to say, as he glanced down, a small colour of pink hinting his cheeks.

You felt bad, seemingly embarrassing the man. You hadn't meant it to sound brusque, you were just tired and now sore from both your neck and elbow.

"Sorry."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"What for?"

"I hadn't, I didn't... well, you know. It's nice." Now your face was starting to warm up.

He looked at you with slight confusion written on his face.

"What I mean to say is, thanks y'know. For asking."

"Oh." He glanced down, the pink shade in his apples going slightly brighter.

Wow, this guy didn't say much, did he? He was clearly very shy, and even more evidently not sure how to respond to positive feedback. This saddened you slightly.

"What's your name?"

"Uhm, Fleck. I mean, Arthur. Fleck is my last name, Arthur's my...first...name."

"Arthur. Arthur." You hummed appreciatively "I like that. I think it fits you."

You didn't think it was even possible for his cheeks to get redder, but they certainly did.

"What's yours? Your name, I mean."

"Y/N. L/N. Not that you care what my last name is, but y'know you shared yours, might as well share mine." You wanted to slap yourself internally, as you chuckled awkwardly at your own joke.

He however, suddenly smiled a genuine smile.

And, Dear Lord, it was the most precious smile you had ever seen in your life. You weren't sure exactly how a person could look so sweet, but you certainly weren't going to complain.

"I think Y/N fits you too. It sounds like an angel's name."

If any other man had fed you that line, you would have rolled your eyes and gagged. But, coming from Arthur, it sounded like he really wondered if you were indeed an angel.

You had almost forgotten about the dull pain in your elbow, and your fatal sleep deprivation.

It all suddenly came back where there was a large slam of books being dropped onto a table.

"Jimmy! Stop dropping books on the table, you're making a ruckus!"

The six year old, seemed to not care for the consequences of his actions, because three more books rocketed down and crashed on the wood table.

You had nearly jumped out of your bones, at the sound of the hardcover copy of Oliver Twist meet its fate.

You and Arthur glanced at each other and a small giggle erupted from both of your lips.

"Let's go before he starts dropping War and Peace." you grinned, and pulled Arthur Fleck by the arm to the entrance's glass doors.

𓋹

"That kid's gonna be banned from the library for life!"

He belly laughed, and nodded in agreement.

"Poor Jimmy."

When you could finally find breath again, you found Arthur's gaze.

It was upon further inspection of his irises, you realised they were a colour you had never seen before.

"C-can I call you?" You couldn't believe the words that had slipped from your mouth.

He smiled some more.

"Yeah, I would really like that."

"Maybe we could have lunch? I know a place that makes the best chocolate cr-"

"-sounds perfect." he said, before you could finish.

"O-ok." You were blushing.

Again.

But, you really didn't mind at all.

𓆑𓆑𓆑

Ok, wow I haven't written in so long, feels good to get back into it!

Hopefully you enjoy.

<3 Lyddie.

#arthur fleck #joker #joker 2019 #arthur fleck x reader #joker x reader #joker 2019 x reader #arthur fleck fluff #joaquin phoenix x reader #joaquin phoenix

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into-crazy · 2 years

Text

no better love

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Female Reader one shot

Summary: A comment from a woman to your Joker gets to you. You start to question if you're good enough for him, and he feels the strong need to remind you that you are.

Warnings- Cursing, self-doubt, insecurity, angst, fluff, comfort, NSFW, soft smut, oral sex, fingering, ages 18+

Here's a fic I had in my WIPs for well over a year that I decided to finally finish. This one's pretty long, but can you blame me? I like plot and I love this man💗

There was never a time in your relationship with Arthur Fleck that you've had any doubts. Even though every resident in this dreadful city seen him as The Joker. A wanted man, a criminal, a psychopath, a homicidal maniac.. a murderer. Such titles that were often associated with him. Alas to you, he is your Arthur, your Joker, your love, and your entire world.

Yes, a few of those other titles may apply to him. That you won't deny. But honestly, you don't find it in you to care.

He's been nothing but good to you. Treats you with respect, supports you, listens and offers comfort, loves you with every fiber of his being. As open and honest with you as you are him. Never once laid a hand on you.. unless you asked him to. That's everything you could ever ask for in a partner, and he gave you all of that and more. Arthur or Joker(they're both one in the same) is more than just a partner. He is the love of your life.

You love and care for him unconditionally. Constantly checking to make sure he's alright every time he comes home. You see him for all that he is, accepting every part of him. The good, the bad. The beautiful and the ugly. Though you never found anything ugly about him. Arthur was the one to point those out, and always would you reassure him you thought and felt otherwise.

He'd very much like to take care of you as much as you do for him. Making sure he eats, that he's hydrated, has clean clothes- both for "work" and home. Everything you manage to do for him and you still have the energy to regularly attend your weekday job. Countless times has he reminded you that you didn't have to work anymore. To quit your job, let him provide for you.

It was a thoughtful sentiment. You knew his offer came from a kind place in his heart. He only wants the best for you. However, truth be told, you preferred to work and earn things on your own. Having told him you blithely did those things for him out of love. You didn't want anything in return like money or valuables, and you never asked for them. Not once. All you could ever want and need is him. Just him. He's more than enough for you. He is your comfort, your sunshine on a rainy day, the reason for you to smile.

With that, he let it be. If you really wanted to keep your job, then it was more than alright with him. As long as you were happy, then so was he. That option would always be open if you decide on it. He wasn't going to push you into doing anything you didn't want to.

Still, that didn't stop him from paying your rent almost every month before you'd even get the chance to do it yourself. Which he would pretend to have no clue about when brought up.

///////

You had acknowledged him, "so I passed by the office to drop off the rent, and Dave informed me that an envelope was already dropped off." Dave is the manager of the complex you reside in. Soon as you went in to pay were you met with awkward confusion from said man. Claiming he had already received your rent earlier that day. Instantly, you knew it was Arthur.

"Really?" He said in a surprised manner. "Well, I wonder who might've done that."

"Come on. I know it was you, Arthur." Even fully dressed and painted up as Joker, you'd still call him by his name. Joker was for when you went out in public. Unseen, of course. "And really, thank you. You didn't have to do that." You frowned timidly.

He gathered both of your hands and brought them to his red lips, placing a long, delicate kiss. Leaving a well welcomed patch of that bright color on your skin as he pulled back to gaze into your eyes. "You don't have to thank me, my love. I know that you can handle it. It's just- I don't want you to have to worry about anything. Ever."

///////

It was starting to hit the afternoon hours of the day. You sat comfortably on the couch, reading from a new book as the Gotham news network played at a low volume on your television. It was on mostly for background noise but also so you could see what Joker was up to.

Joker was out somewhere in the city. With some of his henchmen, carrying out one of his agendas. He's been gone since the early morning, before the sun even had a chance to rise and greet him hello. For he had silently awoken and gotten ready without waking you. At least, he thought he hadn't.

Even though your eyes were closed, there was a part of you that was conscious. You faintly recall the soft caress of his hand on your face. You remember smiling when you felt the lingering touch of his lips as he kissed your forehead. The tobacco in his warm breath remain even as he pulls away. Followed by the swift swipe of his thumb to collect the freshly wet paint from your skin. A gentle- see you later- before leaving.

The Just In segment of the news on the television had caught your attention. Mentioning the name of your beloved Joker. Quickly, you looked up from the pages and turned up the volume as the anchorman on the screen spoke.

"This just in, regarding the whereabouts of the dangerous criminal, it appears he is in the downtown area. We are not yet sure of his affairs, but our station's very own reporter Douglas is live on the scene. Douglas?"

The screen switches over to another scene- to a reporter at the bottom of some steps outside a large building. "Yes Jameson," the young man begins, "we are currently here on 7th street, right outside the building that the Joker and his masked goons are in. As usual, they are armed and dangerous. There are no officers on sight, but we were informed they are inbound. We have no information on what the Joker and his crew are up to at this time. We are just waiting outside, it looks like they will be coming out any minute.."

Still watching, you examine the large crowd in the background. Which consisted of a couple other reporters in the back. They were always so fast with being the first on sight before the authorities. They're mixed in with the locals- citizens gathered around to see what the commotion was about. Some of them even wearing clown masks in show of their support.

These reports didn't surprise you very much. You've grown used to this as it is rather typical now. The Joker has become the most talked about topic since his emergence. In a way, he's like a well known celebrity. A wanted one. But a popular name no less. A man that everyone in Gotham knew about. Some places he went, there happened to be a crowd. Whether it was the police, reporters, or random citizens. Since he is a highly wanted man, Joker makes sure he's prepared. Bringing enough henchmen and firearms along on jobs, meetings, city roams, wherever. Usually with a plan of escape and loyal men- which is what kept him from getting caught. If he did manage to get himself pinched, then he found a way out of it.

You'll admit, it was a little hard sometimes. Having to share Arthur with the whole city when all you want is to keep him entirely for yourself. However, you felt that was a selfish thought. He was finally getting the attention he's dreamed of. Now, it might not be exactly how he had once wanted before. But he has a lot and he loves it. He's taken charge of his life, living it to the fullest without looking back. There was no way you could ever take that away from him. He deserves it.

The man on the TV screen speaks again, "and there he is, he seems to be exiting the building with his clown crew now." The camera skews up the stairs to land on Joker, making his way down the steps with his crew members in close proximity.

You couldn't help but admire how graceful he looked, even through the television screen. His beautiful vibrant colors, the rhythmic beat in his steps, the cigarette tucked loosely between his fingers. The fluidity of his movements are hypnotic.

"It looks like he's walking our way, we'll keep the camera on him." The reporter states.

Off to the side of the frame there is a group of women. Small, maybe about 4 or 5 ladies. Each with an excessive amount makeup, beautiful hair, short and tight attire, little designer bags, and banging bodies.. They're escorts. High end ones. Wasn't hard to figure that out considering they'd announce it themselves everywhere they went. Advertising the services they had to offer and the cost for such. Though these ones weren't the average escorts. To keep it plain and simple, these woman bounced around with some of the wealthy residents of Gotham. Exchanging sex or relationship status for money, luxurious gifts, and a higher status.

Now you personally don't have anything against these women. There's just certain traits and work ethics about some of them which you didn't agree with. But you don't ponder long on those, seeing as they don't concern you. Leave them be. They're just working any way that they can. Jobs are extremely hard to find and keep. Especially these days.

They were conversing amongst each other, showing concern, looking and motioning towards Joker. There was one lady you seen that wasn't talking. While they carried on, she appeared to be anticipating for when he was going to pass by. Her entire body bouncing with excitement as he drew near.

Once he came close enough, she practically screams his name. "Joker! Hey Joker- over here!" Trying extra hard to get his attention. He glances at her and she continues. "Joker, are you currently seeing someone?" She flirts, puckering her lips.

"That's personal." He vaguely replies, clearly showing no interest.

However, his lack of attention doesn't faze her one bit. "Oh, you are? Lucky her!" At her loud exclaim does he quickly turn around. A look on his face that read- oh shit, probably shouldn't have said that. She grins now that he has his full focus. "Well when you're done with her, come talk to a real woman." She leans in to display her cleavage and suggestively shimmies her chest. Everyone around remains silent, except for her lady friends that are giggling. They're fucking giggling.

"Thanks, but no thanks." Joker declines her offer with a sneer. With that, he turns and walks away. To a van which quickly pulls in, picking him and the crew up. Speeding off just as the police sirens are heard in the distance.

The camera shifts back to the reporter, "Well, you heard it here folks. Looks like the Joker is not on the list of Gotham's most eligible bachelors. Back to you Jameson-"

You sat there, staring at the TV in total shock. Feeling a vast spectrum of emotions all at once. Surprise, rage, confusion, jealousy, guilt.. Completely unsure what to think, how to react, and how to breathe properly. Her words struck right through you.

Normally, you wouldn't let these sort of things get to you. It was just her choice of words that seeped through the tight cracks. A real woman? What the hell did she mean by that?

There were already those depressing moments where you felt like you weren't good enough for Arthur. Hurtful thoughts which plagued the deepest parts of your mind. Resurfacing when the opportunity came.

Shutting the television off, you stand from your position and make way into the kitchen. Desperately looking for something- anything- to clean. Something to occupy and calm your mind from those rampant thoughts. However, even after washing the few dishes in the sink and having swept the floor, you can't seem to shake it.

Don't let it get to you. Don't let it.

You walk past the large mirror hanging on your living room wall, pausing as you catch your reflection. Lifting the oversized t-shirt above your waist, wearing only a pair of panties underneath, you look over various areas of your body. Pinpointing every single thing you thought to be wrong with you.

I should be smaller here, and larger there.. These need to be bigger, fuller. This needs to be slimmer, tighter... There should be a lot less here, and a lot more there.. Those shouldn't even be there, why couldn't they just go away? Poof and fade away.

Tears formed behind your eyes as you examined the marks you wish were gone.

Ugly.

You felt ugly.

Going to sit back down, you pick up your book. Hoping to forget about the whole matter entirely as you flip through the pages to get back where you left off. Though it seems like even that simple task has somehow become difficult to do. The book weights ten times heavier and the pages are slippery. You pass the correct page at least four times before finally landing on the right one. The tears blurring your vision begin to fall. You let them. Not bothering to wipe them away. Leaving them to stream freely down your cheeks as you try your hardest to focus on the words before you.

Which you can't, and soon give up. Left only to stare blankly at the now ruined article in your hands. Your tears had soaked completely into the paper, and morphed the words into indecipherable ink splotches. Had you really cried that much?

You're not sure how long you had sat contemplating until you heard noise at the entry door. The distinct clicking of the lock unlatching snaps you back into focus, you quickly wipe away your tear streaks. Clearing your throat as you rip the book open to a random page to make it look like you've been reading. Joker is home, and you don't want him to know that you were crying over something so mindlessly stupid.

The door opens and sure enough, Joker comes inside. Enveloped in all his signature red and green splendor. Looking a thousand times more breathtaking in person than on the television screen.

"Y/n, darling?" He calls for you as he shuts the door and starts to get settled in.

"In here." You call out, trying to sound like your casual self.

He pauses to glance in your direction, then continues about his way into the kitchen. Letting out a relieved sigh as he can now finally relax in the comfort of his home with you.

He doesn't notice anything. Good.

You hear the kitchen faucet turn on and turn your head to slightly peak at him. Your chest grows tight, and those bad feelings immediately storming back in.

Look at him. He deserves so much more than you. So much better.

This was getting out of hand. If your thoughts keep going on like this, then they're just going to continue to torment you.

You shut the book and put it aside. Standing from the couch, you look more clearly at Joker. He's drying his hands from having just washed them. Having left his make up on, he almost always has it on these days. Even here at home. You begin to wonder if maybe it's because he wants you to call him Joker. Maybe he is not your Arthur anymore. He probably wants to only be known and addressed as Joker from now on. You had always thought that Arthur and his colorful persona are one in the same. But on the slightest chance that they're not, then Joker still loves you the same, right? He's still happy with and only desires you, right?

You clear your throat, "Hey um, Joker?"

He immediately looks over at you. Since you usually call him Arthur when you're alone in each other's company. Especially here at home. So the fact that you didn't address him the way you normally would, he knew instantly that something was wrong. His full attention was now focused towards you. "Yes love, what is it?"

There is a slight pause before you continue, "I just wanted to ask you that if you- if you're still happy with me?"

Joker is taken aback by your question. "Am I still what? Darling-" he hurriedly makes his way over to you. A determined man on a mission. He takes both of your hands into his as he continues, "of course I am happy with you! What would even make you think to ask me such a ridiculous question?"

You stumble with finding the right words. "I don't know, I just- I wanted to know that if you still love me the same. That you still find me attractive." You shrug your shoulders to hide your emotions but ohh Joker is much smarter than that.

His grip on your hands tighten. He's trying his best to understand, so he goes on. "Baby, you know I do. I love you so much and you are the sexiest woman alive to me. Why are you asking me these questions little dove?"

There is no stopping the fresh tears from streaming down your cheeks. You break Joker's hold on your hands to harshly wipe at them. "I'm just so ugly and useless. I don't understand why you would choose to stay with me when you can have someone a lot better than me. Someone who is smarter and more beautiful than me."

Joker takes you into his arms and holds you tightly. He knows that there was not much he could do when you have these negative thoughts. But he will always be here to help you feel better. And to remind you that these accusations which your mind tries to convince you are true, are not.

Before he allows you to cry any longer he pulls away. Bringing his hand to your chin and making you look at him. "Listen to me y/n. You are the embodiment of true beauty. All of you. You are the woman I fell in love with, and I will continue to love you for who you are always. I would kill for you, give my own life for yours. I do not desire to have anyone else but you. How could you not see that, my love? What can I do to prove that I only love you?"

You see tears form in his eyes, they're growing red from hurt and anger. It's not anger for you, that you know for sure.

You sniffle, "I'm so sorry, baby. I guess I got carried away with my thoughts when I saw you on the news. Walking down those steps and being greeted by all those women. I couldn't help but think that you'd be better off with a woman that looked beautiful like them."

Suddenly it all clicks with Joker. What had triggered these feelings within you. Why you called him Joker. He realizes that you don't feel attractive or are worthy of his love. It's laughable to him because you are. Looks like he's gonna have to show you that.

He places his hands on your waist and lets out a breathy chuckle. "Oh babydoll, I am yours as much as you are mine. I need you to know that. Understand that. I had thought that by now you already would have. But I guess..." He keeps his eyes fixed on yours while he slides his hands down to your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. "I'll have to make sure that you do."

You let out a small gasp as you feel his fingers slip underneath your shirt to lightly stroke your thighs. He grips the bottom of the article and brings it up. You lift your arms and allow him to remove it from your body. Goosebumps prickle your skin at the sensation of being practically naked.

His touch ghosts down your arms as he leans in to kiss along your jaw, down your neck to your collarbone. Sucking love marks into the skin there. You whimper in response to how good his touch feels.

"That's it baby. Let me take care of you." He whispers against you.

He moves down your body. Leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses in his path. He lowers himself all the way until he's down on his knees. You are the only woman- only soul in this world which he'll kneel before. He continues showing his love all along your hips, stomach, and eventually your thighs. Paying extra gentle attention to the areas he know you're self-conscious about. His kisses only growing more passionate against your skin. Showing you just how much he truly loves and craves you.

Joker looks up at you and he can't get enough of what he sees. Your eyes are glossy and puffy as you gaze at him with absolute awe. Your cheeks are red from the crying and the amount of adoration you're currently receiving. You look so fucking beautiful to him, especially in that moment. He would shoot anyone that would try to say otherwise.

His fingertips trace along the waistband of your panties. Giving you a moment to decide if you want him to continue. You show no sign of wanting him to stop and so he takes that as his go ahead. He doesn't know how much longer he can wait, with the inviting aroma of your arousal seeping through the fabric of your underwear. He pulls down the garment with tender care, baring your pussy to him. It looks so gorgeous to him, all natural and moist with your juices.

Joker presses a soft kiss just at the top of your pussy, then he dives right in. Immediately going to kiss and lick at your lips. Taking special care of everything outside before he works his way inside. Once he feels he's covered every inch, he enters you with his tongue. Moving it in and out of your hole while his fingers go to rub circles on your precious nub.

You moan out in pleasure, burying your fingers in his green locks. The pleasure you're receiving feels amazing, he always knows how to make you feel special. It doesn't even matter that his face paint is smearing all over the place. This moment is far too perfect for the both of you.

"Oh Arthur."

"Mm-mm," he hums, removing his mouth from you. "Joker, darling. And I'm gonna show you how much I want you and only you."

With that, he goes back to pleasuring you. Taking his time with making sweet, sweet love to you with his hands and mouth. He wants to make sure you know that no one else is ever worth his precious time. Worth his love and care. That's all reserved entirely for you.

"Mm, oh Joker." His name leaves your lips like a soft prayer.

Joker moans at the taste of you. He'd eat you out every hour of every day if he could. You are a delicacy to him. The sweet sound of your moans and the trembling of your body is turning him on like crazy. How badly does he want to release his hard length from the confines of his pants and touch himself. Or even better, to feel you around him. Whether it be your hands, mouth, or pussy. He doesn't care, he just wants to feel any part of you. But no matter how badly he wants that, he puts it on hold. He's only focused on taking good care of you right now.

Your legs start to shake, the building up of a release approaching. It feels like an intense one, and you're not sure if you'll be able to reach it from standing up like this. But oh how you want it so badly. You don't want Joker to stop. His fingers are stroking your walls so good, and his tongue his massaging your clit with the intention of making you orgasm.

"Joker," you whine, biting your lower lip as you squeeze his shoulders. This is your way of telling him you're close.

He looks up into your eyes. His other hand grips you tightly, holding your body firmly against him. Letting you now that he's got you. He will always be here to catch you and take care of you when you let go. You are safe in his arms.

"That's it, my love. God you are so beautiful. Go on and cum for me." He encourages. Speeding up his movements to try and get you to reach that high you're so desperately trying to get to.

After a few short breaths, you finally do. Warmth transfers throughout your body as you release all over Joker. Your mind goes blank for those few blissful seconds in which you've been sent into a world of euphoria. Then, your legs give as all the strength from your body has left you. Joker immediately comes back up to embrace you. Holding onto you like you are the most precious thing in the world to him. And you are. He is never letting you go.

He rubs comforting circles along your back while you come back to him. "Feeling okay?" He asks.

You let out a breathy laugh before bringing him in for a kiss. His mouth is still wet with your juices but neither of you ever mind it. You pull away slowly to look at him. His paint is all smudged and most of the bottom half has rubbed off completely. It's such a gorgeous sight to behold.

"Hm, way better than okay." You answer his question.

Joker grins at that, "well good. Because I'm not done showing you how much I love you just yet. Now come on, what do you say we take this to our bed, huh?"

You release a fit of giggles as he takes you into the bedroom and shuts the door.

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