Arthur Fleck Archive, 2019

HC

hdhshdjdhd post your bottom Arthur headcanons

Anonymous

Because Arthur hasn't had a lot of love or romantic contact in his life, he often just likes to try everything and anything. He loves dominating you and feeling like you are entirely and completely his, but sometimes he likes to be under you and feel like he's completely owned. He loves the idea of spoiling you, and loves being spoiled, so either way works for him. But he works long hours, and lives a harsh life that drags him down.After working a long day and week at work, he just doesn't have the energy to absolutely spoil and devour you like he wants to. On these days, he comes into your apartment with his bones aching, head bowed.You rush over to his side and began stroking his face, bringing him back to you, trying to brush off the long and hard days he has at work, the grim and spit of the world having polluted his naturally soft spirit. On his good days, he slams you against the wall as soon as he makes contact with you, needing to release his desire for you as soon as he can, having been left alone with his thoughts all day and thinking of nothing but you.But tonight, he just doesn't have the energy. You can tell as soon as you come to him that he is "off", his energy radiating a broken spirit and sadness.He looks up at you at the feel of your touch, and his eyes are red, burning and fogged over with exhaustion. But one look into your eyes, and the clarity comes back in them a bit.With that one look, it is clear that he is the one that needs to be devoured in love tonight.So you take his hand and push him onto the bed, Arthur already giggling at your hungry aggression.When you're in bed and on top of him, he ends up moaning for you quickly, his resistance to succumb to his lust for you on these nights low. He often tries to bring you down to him, letting his warm lips brush against the skin on your neck, places some soft kisses on your forehead, temple, shoulders, breasts, arms, and whatever else he can get his lips on, nippling and marking you, all while he wraps his legs a little tighter around youYou bury your head into his neck while you enter him, taking in his smell of cigarettes and cologne, sweat and desire lacing the smells. Just as he kisses your temple, he also sometimes reaches out to cup your hand in his large palms, and this changes into grabbing into your hair passionately as you stroke his cock, him completely melting into you and the feeling of your hands on his manhood.You stroke him vigorously as his mouth opens hopelessly in lust, and his head rolls back into his pillow, moaning your name as he builds up for you.And then you pound yourself into him. This leads into passionate kissing, kissing not only his lips, but his chest, arms, legs, and everywhere were his skin is exposed within your reach. He tries to not start cackling at how intense his feelings for are you building, not wanting to ruin the passion of the moment. He tries to make a point to kiss your skin, either pushing his crooked teeth hard into your skin, or pressing his lips softly against the marks he's already made on you. He loves to feel and touch you while he's under you, feeling the solid presence of your skin, feeling the hot breath of your face against his, not being able to get enough of how real you are, the miracle that you're not just another one of his hallucinations.He kisses the side of your mouth while you both moan, your mouth open wide with lust as he pounds into you from underneath, and him trying to keep it together for as long as he can while he murders your lips with soft peppered kisses on the sides of your mouth, cheeks, and everywhere in between. While he's thursting deep inside your heat, your moans become louder, so much to the point where Arthur gets nervous that the neighbors will be waken up. His hands are gripping your hips and butt so hard that they will always leave red marks as they push you even closer against his body all while he's carrying you closer to your high and is eager to feel and see you wet for him.Although he's a bit inexperienced, he will always have the drive and desire, as well as ambition, to make up for what he lacks in knowledge.When he gets nervous enough, he'll make silly voices to try and lighten up the mood. He has a tenancy to mummer words, chuckle, and hum sweet words into your neck as well as against your lips as you're being thrusted into. He is a romantic at heart, and he loves to remind you how important you are to him, even in the midst of making love. It makes it hard for you to concentrate on keeping yourself sane from the passion of having him inside of you, and eventually you break out in laughter that is muffled as soon as he presses his lips with more passion onto yours.Finally, after all that intense love making, you will fall out of him and flop by his side, completely exhausted after a long and stressful day, both of you sweating and breathing heavily from the intensity. Arthur is too tired to get his clothes, and so he settles for just laying next to you, still on his back, looking sideways at your face, beaming at you with his crinkled smile. You both lie there for a long while, taking each other in, your bones aching in the best way. His curls are slick with sweat and sticking to his face. His eyes start to blink with exhaustion, stretching his skinny legs out and blinking sleepily at you. You caress his face, muttering softly, "Go to sleep, baby." You both enjoy the kisses you share once you lean in and slowly crush your lips against his before you cuddle up beside him. Arthur sweeps his arms around you, spooning you under the covers. He leaves soft kisses down the back of your neck, the sweat that had formed from the sex gracing a layer of his lips. His arms were thin and bony but firm and full of promise that he was here. You are both full with contentment, each of each other's chests still heaving dramatically. Arthur couldn't possibly hold you tight enough. He pulled you closer, smelling the scent of your hair, as sweaty as it was, and he enjoyed every moment of it, every moment of you.-------------------------------Bro I just want a head cannon or imagine of Arthur or penny wise with a s/o that sleeps nakedAnonymousLove this concept, thank you for sending this! I went with Arthur because I am currently physically incapable of seeing anything other than him.Arthur pressed the piss stained elevator button. Once. Twice. It didn't come down.Arthur looked up at the dull ceiling, staring back at him with the same indifferent, unempathetic energy it always had. Much like the city of Gotham. He held in his breath for a moment, keeping it in his cheeks and then exhaling it like a hot air balloon. He bounced on both of his feet. A few more pauses, and with a moan the elevator reluctantly made its way down the floors. The machine dinged its rough, monotoned ring as it came down, groaning as if it itself was weary of the building from which it had been born, its wires and functions tired and dirty from its place in the apartments that were falling apart like soggy bread.It finally landed. He walked in. He began to press the button to his floor incessantly. He felt the impatience starting to creep up his body, anxiety accompanying it like wildfire. He needed to hold you as soon as he could, needed to see your face beam up at him in a way that no one in his life ever quite had before. He tapped his left foot for a good few minutes. Still nothing. He wiped his tired face with one of his calloused hands. Pressed the button again. Nothing. He began pressing it with urgency, his frown growing. Finally, with one of the most unenthusiastic moans he's ever heard, it began to close its doors, squeaking as they came to a close.Arthur leaned back and stood and looked at the stained, spotted carpet of the elevator floor. He always tried not to think too hard about where they had come from. He was sure he was better off not knowing. The elevator announced the first floor, dinging the closest thing to a cheery noise it could make anymore, slightly more celebratory that the groans that its up and down movements made. Three more floors to go. Arthur let out a soft sigh, cradling his white medication back that he was holding in both hands. He leaned against the elevator walls. Fidgeted with the white bag with his medication. The elevator groaned. Another ding. Floor two. He closed his eyes, feeling the bone deep exhaustion from his long day starting to creep up into his awareness. He had had to advertise at yet another store again today, dancing with a sign for a total of seven long hours nonstop. He felt the toll of the day wear on him, having seen nothing but the grumpy, mean and annoyed faces of the people of Gotham, giving him nothing a scowl, if they acknowledged him at all. He had been bumped into and scoffed the duration of the whole day, which only triggered his mentally unstable state further, but it was considered an accomplished day for the simple and pathetic reason that at least he wasn't jumped. He grimaced, rubbing a hand over his shoulder where the permanent damage of where he had gotten beaten up was. It would never truly heal. He had tried to negotiate a break with Hoyt, and had almost got a full, blissful half hour out of his boss and the store owner, but when he thought about how tight money was, thought about your life together, thought about how he wanted only the best for you, he decided that a half hour of sitting by himself in clown getup and dissociating in his heavy, fogged mind wasn't much of a break or what he wanted anyway without pay. Thoughts of coming home to you were often what got him through the unforgiving day, of snaking his arms around you playfully, getting to be more of his relaxed, silly self as soon as he was in your presence. You were a breath of fresh air in the choking black of the city he lived in. You laughed at his jokes, appreciated his childlike disposition that he carried throughout life that he was otherwise ashamed of but he couldn't help. Gotham spat on it, whereas you treated it like it was some undiscovered holy treasure found within the world. He loved being a clown, it sure beat the idea of being locked up in a desk all day. It was the only job where he felt like he could be Arthur, the only other place where he felt he could be truly himself other than with you. Of course, time with you was incomparable; he didn't need to wear a hot clown wig or do a dance or sing to feel accepted and loved by you. He could express himself and act however he wanted around you, whether he was on top of the world or below even the filthiest of moods, and everything in between. Though he felt he would never be able to fully comprehend or even accept it, you truly where what he had been missing his whole life, ever since he was a boy.As long as he was with you, that was all that mattered. A ding. The fourth floor. Somehow he had totally missed registering going past the third. He stepped out of the elevator, and walked through the fluorescent lit hallway. His heart was pounding in his chest; even now, he was still trying to fight off nerves of seeing you again, as if you were some school crush he harbored, rather than his partner of a good few blissful, though sometimes bittersweet, months. His hands even had the slightest layer of sweat to them as he opened the door, and his nervousness increased as he stepped into the surprisingly dark apartment. Usually he was greeted with at least a few dim lights on, the television on low, you cooking something for the both of you to eat tonight."Love?" He called out, loud enough for his voice to travel all over the apartment, but not quite as loud as he usually was, feeling strangely self conscious as he entered his own apartment. He took his coat off, wincing at how his muscles ached. He stepped into the dark and turned the lamp light on in the living room. Still no sign of you.He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He panicked whenever he didn't know exactly what you were up to at all times. It had become an unspoken rule for you to always reassure him where you were, who you were with, what you would be doing that day. You never did anything without telling him. You didn't mind, because you knew it came from a place of deep love. He was always so, so worried of losing you, of something happening to you. He couldn't stand the idea of his life after you now that he knew what it felt to be cherished, loved, and, most refreshing of all, known."Darling?" He tried one more time. Still no signs of life. He checked the bathroom. Nothing. If you weren't in the bedroom, he would really start panicking.Relief flooded him as he opened the door and saw your form in the bed you shared, your chest breathing steadily, sheets covering half of your body. You were entirely naked, and his heart stopped at the sight of how beautiful you were. He thought about you so much during the day to the point where he could convince himself that you weren't real, just another manifestation of his illnesses. Seeing you at the end of a long day always took his breath away, but rarely did he get to see you in such a natural, almost artistic state. The moonlight from the sky was shining through the small window in your bedroom, illuminating your skin so that it looked like it was glowing, convincing him you were some otherworldly being coming to save him from his dark and dull life even more than he was already convinced. He tried his best not to let his infatuation with you turn you into something you weren't, but as he took in your smooth form, skin looking like it was made from silk, he couldn't help but feel the heat and desire spread through his body as he thought about how perfect you were to him.He stepped over to your form quietly and tried as gently as he could to put his weight on the bed without disturbing you. He merely stared at you for a few moments, hardly being able to believe that you were real. That thought made his heart stop for a minute, and, despite how much he wanted you to rest, he couldn't help but reach out a hand to stroke your skin. He caressed the curve of your hips with the gentlest of touches, and felt you shiver as goosebumps began to naturally respond to the softest brush of weathered fingers. He was fascinated with everything about you. With a trembling body, he leaned forward to kiss the small of you back, gently pressing his lips onto you as if you would break.You let out a soft whimper, awakening from your sleep, and you began to move your head slightly. Arthur mentally hit himself, angry for not being able to resist touching you. Ever so slightly you rolled over, and through blearly, sleep tight eyes in the dark did you make out the man before you."Arthur?" you mumbled sleepily. "Is that you, baby?"Despite his onslaught of self loathing, he beamed at you calling him a pet name. He let out a small giggle, natural and soft, not like the throaty and tormented ones that twisted out of him so often."Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly, as if he was a child getting caught stealing candy by his parents. "You looked so beautiful, I couldn't help myself..." His voice was soft and young sounding, yet had the raspy heaviness of a man who had had a long day.You took a few moments to collect yourself, then scooted closer. "Sweetheart," you mumbled sleepily, cupping his face and pulling him closely. He responded eagerly, wrapping himself into you like you were keeping him on the ground. "You never, ever have to apologize for touching me." You brought him in, kissing his touch starved lips with all the tender care you had been building for him all day. You felt starved when you weren't loving him. Arthur felt something click inside of him, like something has been askew within his soul all day without you."Mm," Arthur barely managed out at the feel of your warm lips on his. The unforgiving day wisped away from his mind like it had never happened, being replaced with your warm touches and essence that you reserved just for him. "Mmm'ok," he finally said boyishy, smiling into your lips. He melted like butter at your touch. Your noses were touching, and his expression was uplifted into a grin, drowning in his laugh lines. You leaned forward and kissed them lovingly, the ones lining his lips, corners of his eyes, forehead, cheeks. Adoring how fragile he looked, that look that reminded you how much he craved you, needed you, how he was walking on a tightrope in society, his soul threatening to fall over at any minute."How was your day?" you muttered, stroking his hair back so you could see his face, shining innocently, He let out a small mumble. "Eh, it was, you know," he looked down at your hands, stroking them, procrastinating looking into your eyes, still hesitant to show all himself to you, not wanting to burden you with his own troubles. "It was fine." He brought your knuckles up to his lips and peppered them softly. You smirked. "You're a bullshit liar, you know that?" You smiled at him softly as the gruff statement compelled his eyes to look up at you. He wasn't hurt, just unsure how to respond to how well you knew him. "Come here," you muttered, and drew him even closer into your arms. He cuddled up in your chest adoringly, smiling as he buried his face into your chest, instantly taking the prize as the most happy and content person in Gotham. "You know," you hummed as you put your lips into his curly brown hair, still slightly damp from the sweat of his clown costume, "The neighbors down the hall invited us to dinner tomorrow night."Arthur's voice vibrated against your skin as he spoke in his soft voice. "Really?""Mm-hmm," you muttered back in response, your voice becoming softer and more tender with each word as you felt each other meld into one another, something that had started to become as natural in your daily routines as breathing. "They seem nice." Another caress. One of his curls snagged into your nails, and you gently separated it. "I thought maybe you'd like to go over and talk to some people, since you've seemed down." You felt Arthur tense slightly, but not enough for it to be significant. He could sometimes forget how easily you could read him. He had been more worn than usual lately; the world had been weighing on his shoulders with an unforgiving and cold weight, his hours feeling horribly long and dressed in an isolated haze. He didn't have as much time for you as you wanted-no, needed, and it took more out of him than he was ever willing to admit to your face. He always came home with heavy, tired, red eyes, and didn't feel the grim of the world fall off of him until he was in your arms. You truly were his only company in life, the only one who let him know what true love felt like. "They said it was meant to be a family members event," you continued softly. "They just want families to come over, bring their children to play, grandparents, spouses, whoever else. They said friends are ok, but they mostly want families to come from around the building and connect to get to know each other better." You looked down and kissed the top of his temple. "So technically that excludes us, a romantic couple of only a few months." You paused. "But fuck it. My baby is sad, and I know how much you light up when you're around people who are nice to you." Those words rang very true. It was a side of Arthur no one knew about. He was quiet and kept to himself, seeming like the cliche stereotype of a loner. But buried inside all of the rejection, isolation, and hurt that had been suffocating him since he was little, possibly even since he was born, you realized with a shiver, was just a playful, happy man with a naive and soft soul, longing to connect with the world, so desperately that even he didn't know how to handle it."You are my family," he whispered softly, the words escaping out of his lips before he even realized they were in his head to begin with. He had begun to drift off slightly, and had been lost in that space between awareness and dreams. His face began to heat up as if he had been burned. The weight of what he had just said sunk in, and he felt his chest would burst. His heart was thudding in his chest at the bold statement. What a stupid, inappropriate thing to say to your partner of only a few months. You were a bit dumbfounded for a moment yourself, unsure of how you felt. You didn't feel angry or put off, just in a numb shock. You knew you loved each other, but having the depth of your love spoken out so blatantly felt like a strange betrayal of an unspoken emotion between you two. He looked up at you, and the numb feeling melted as you saw your world in his endless depths of green and blue. You could have stayed there and just mediated on what he said in a warm haze of the outspoken realization of what had been said, but the spell was broken when he began to stutter out whatever he could to rectify what he just said. "I-I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't say that, you don't have to feel the same, but-""It's ok," you quickly reassured him, putting a finger to his lips. You paused for a moment, considering you next words, knowing how much weight they would have. "You're my family too, sweetheart. I'm home when I'm with you."Arthur let out an enigmatic whine, seeming to be buried in deep relief and pleasure. Though always a fragile creature, he truly looked as vulnerable as a child in that moment. The red on his face melted a bit as he was reminded once again how safe he was with you to speak every unfiltered thought.As you looked deeper into his broken eyes, so full of unspoken damage and torment that would never really go away, the truth of the whispered words sunk into you as the realized the sincerity of them. It was a heavy truth, but a truth so beautiful and so pure that it made you melt with tender exhaustion. Your love for him was so pure, so unconditional, so inconceivably empathetic that labeling it as a generic romantic relationship didn't seem to be satisfying enough. In many ways you already saw him as your spouse, someone you would do anything for. He was a part of you now, and you couldn't see him any other way. Nor did you want to. It was as if he had lived inside of you before you had met him, like you were looking for one another and living your souls beside each other before you had even physically come together. There was something that had become complete when you had met him; though you were already your own person and individual before him, life after him felt like you had finally found your true calling, a calling that went deeper than the superficial 'callings' that Gotham tried to make people believe in like money, jobs, careers; earthly things that required the world's approval to make you feel worthwhile that seemed so small now. No, this calling was far more fulfilling, so natural and so true that it made your throat choke when you thought of it for too long. You felt and saw home in him, so much that took your breath away.A loud rumble broke you out of your thoughts, and you realized it was Arthur's stomach calling out for mercy. Arthur groaned, embarrassed, and buried his face in your neck, leaving hungry kisses below your ear, his crooked teeth leaving shy marks where there had already been left hundreds by the same man.You laughed, trying to suppress the heat that was building in your vagina. You could deal with that later. "Come on, sleepy head," you chuckled. "Let's make some dinner."--------------------