Arthur Fleck and Joker Imagines

My Girl - Part 2 - Joker x Reader

Joker stood in front of the mirror, wiping the makeup from his face; it had been days since (Y/n) had confronted him, days since he remembered what Arthur had had, days since he had realised what he had lost. Joker had had a number of his men follow (Y/n), she wasn't hard to find, she was still in the same apartment she had when Arthur knew her, still visited the same places and did the same things despite the fact that the city was still under the control of his men; she didn't seem to fear what could happen to her when she went out, didn't seem to fear the burning cars and the groups of mask wearing people that now controlled the streets; but then Joker didn't expect her to, she had always been stronger than Arthur, she was always his backbone, the one that was not afraid to face whatever life had thrown at her, despite all she had been through.

Like Arthur, (Y/n) had conditions that meant that she was a frequent visitor to Arkham, and that was where the two had originally met, sitting in a waiting room waiting to see some unfeeling, uncaring doctor that would probably just prescribe them some other pill that they didn't need, in a pathetic attempt to try and cure whatever they had.

Arthur couldn't believe it when she had begun to talk to him, he wasn't used to women talking to him, especially beautiful ones with wonderful smiles and glorious eyes; so as they sat there in the dull waiting room, Arthur felt as though someone was smiling down on him from above, and despite his reservations, he was going to make sure that this was not their only meeting.

Over time their encounters had become regular things, not just in the waiting room, but after their appointments they would make their way to a little coffee shop, where Arthur would sit sipping on his tea as the two spoke about their week, laughing and complaining about their latest encounters with doctors, (Y/n) always insisting that she buy him some fancy pastry to accompany his beverage, despite the fact he would barely ever touch it, it seemed to make (Y/n) happy so he never refused. 

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment when his mind had taken it from being just friends to being something more, something intimate; but Arthur would never forget the morning that he woke up, the feel of a warm naked body against the flesh of his back, hot breath fanning against his skin as lips kissed his neck, an arm wrapping itself around his slender form as he turned to face the body behind him, his eyes growing wide in disbelief as he saw (Y/n)'s bright orbs staring back at him, a beautiful smile spreading to her cheeks as she had bided him a good morning, the memories of what had occurred the night before flooding his mind as she brushed her hand across his naked chest, her lips gently kissing his, or at least that was what had all happened in his mind, in reality their friendship had become more intimate, but only so far as sweet kisses and nights of holding one another, Arthur too afraid to take it further.

Joker shook his head, trying to get the memories to leave his brain; (Y/n) had been haunting his every waking and sleeping moment since she had walked out, telling him that he would never see him again, a notion that was now filling him with anger and dread.

Throwing the dirtied tissues into the trash, Joker stared at the man that was now looking back at him; underneath all the paint and show, underneath the bright suit and the green hair, that face would always be Arthur's, a fact that annoyed Joker beyond belief. Sometimes Arthur seemed to laugh at him, taunt his more confident alter ego, his presence always lingering in the shadows like a ghost, a presence that Joker never seemed to be able to rid himself of, no matter how hard he tried.

Suddenly Joker punched the mirror in front of him, the glass breaking under the impact into a thousand tiny pieces, the feared clown laughing as some fell into the sink below him, slowly getting covered in the blood that ran down from the torn skin on his fist, the crimson obscuring the reflection of his face.

Picking up a towel, Joker bound his bleeding fist, continuing to laugh as he made his way from the bathroom and into the adjoining bedroom, dropping down onto the bed as he stared up at the ceiling.