Arthur Fleck and Joker Imagines

In the heat of the night - Part 1 - Arthur x Reader

It may have just turned winter here in the southern hemisphere, but I know that for a lot of you it has just become summer. So, I thought that I would turn up the heat a little for Arthur. Hope you enjoy.

The city was stifling. The heat of the summer had already hit with full force. And Arthur felt as though he was cooking in his own skin. The air in the apartment was thick and heavy, and must be, to his imagination anyway, what it was like to be in an oven. The simple clown sure that he was self-basting in his own sweat. And this was the dead of night.

The days were proving even worse. Even though the sun, and good weather in general, seemed to make people happier in one sense. It also made them worse in another. The rising temperature, appearing to be in direct correlation with the rise of tempers. Arthur sure that since the sun had shown its face in all its glory, he had heard the wail of more sirens than normal. The flash of blue and red lights indicating another fire. Another fight. Or something worse. Yet there was one thing that Arthur had to admit that made him chuckle during the good weather. The face of the sun also bringing with it, an influx of pasty white arms and legs. Appendages that for most of the year, never knew what it was to see the light of day. But with the first hint of heat, shorts, t-shirts, and all manner of clothing were brought out from the mothballs. Arthur sure that many of the city's inhabitants' skins, were paler than his white face paint.

Yet, he was not one of those that could find a little respite from the heat, by wearing fewer clothes. There wasn't much call for a clown dressed in shorts. Not as though he would if he could. So, all of the parties that he was working at, which Arthur was sure that the summer brought a rush of, he was still in his full clown costume and wig. And by the end of the day, he was positive that he was going to die of dehydration.

Turning over in the bed for what felt like the hundredth time that minute, Arthur knew that there was no way he was going to get any sleep. Not that that was anything unusual, but still. He had thought about going for a cold shower, but remembered that he had already had two. Yet he needed to do something. Something that would take his mind off the oppressive heat. Something that could get him out of the furnace, that was his apartment. But what? There was no way that he was going to go for a walk. Gotham was dangerous enough during the day, never mind the night. Bad guys didn't stop being bad guys when the mercury in the thermometer rose. And he really wasn't in the mood to be mugged or beaten up. So, what else was there? Then it came to him. The roof. It wasn't much, most of it was covered in pigeon crap. But maybe at the top of the building there could be a wisp of air. A slight breeze. Anything. But even if there wasn't, it couldn't be any worse than staying in the oven of an apartment. Arthur sure that the thin sheet that covered him, was getting damper even with him just lying there.

With a heavy sigh, he peeled off the wet sheet. Using it to wipe his brow, before pulling on his old, thin pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. In truth, he wished that he could just make his way up to the top of the building in only his underwear. But even at this time of the night, he had a feeling that Misses O'Connor at the end of the hall would still be spying on him and get him locked up for indecent exposure. Arthur sure that the old lady was there just to make his life even more miserable than it already was.

Arthur groaned as he opened the door to his apartment. He had thought that his humble dwelling was bad enough. But the halls and stairwells seemed to be storing the heat. As if the bricks of the building were trying to suck up as much of the warmth as possible, so that they could save it for when the weather turned inclement once again.

He had had second thoughts about taking the elevator to the roof. Arthur deciding that the effort of climbing the stairs was preferable to being locked, even if only for a few seconds, in that grumbling, rattling, and groaning hot box.

With a heavy, relieved sigh, Arthur finally reached the top of the building. His damp palm pushing on the small door that led to the roof. His skin suddenly kissed by the slightest breath of a breeze. A soft smile gracing his lips as he felt a sense of relief from the oppression within the building's walls.

As he made his way over to the corner of the building, his eyes fell on the silhouette of another figure. A being that sat, perched on the wall overlooking the city, like an ever vigilant sentinel watching over the metropolis for any sign of danger. Really, he had hoped to have the roof to himself, yet he should have guessed that he wouldn't be the only one to have the need to escape the confines of the building. And when he saw who the figure was, he didn't mind having the company.

Oh (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n). Arthur was sure that he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. Even the statues in the museum of the ancient goddesses, paled in comparison to the exquisite features of (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n). No painting. No sculpture. No work of art created by even the greatest of the masters, could compete with the woman that was currently sat on the wall. Her eyes firmly fixed on the flickering lights of the great metropolis. And not only was she beautiful, but she was sweet too.

They had spoken a few times in passing. Arthur even finding that he was able to not get too nervous when she would say, hi, as they checked for mail. Or when she would ask him about his day, as they travelled up in the elevator together. The other day, she had even come to his aid when Misses O'Connor had decided that he needed reprimanding for something that Arthur was sure wasn't even his fault. (Y/n) sending the older woman away with a flea, though be it a pleasant sounding and well worded flea, in her ear. Telling him that he shouldn't worry about the old lady. And that sooner or later, all the Misses O'Connor's of the world, get their comeuppance.

And now, now in the dead of the night. With no one else to watch, or judge. He knew that he finally had the chance to really talk to (Y/n). To try and get to know her better. To ask if he could get to know her better. And hopefully, with no one else around, there would be no laugh to explain away, or apologise for. So, if he could just make his stubborn legs to make their way over to her, he might at least get to say, hello.