Imagine: You're in a relationship with Arthur/Joker and you shower him with all the love and affection he's never had. Requested by heysoftie . Hope you enjoy!

--1st person POV--

He'd never looked more beautiful to you than he did right now.

You were lay in his bed, well your bed, propped up on one elbow, your (y/e/c) eyes devouring his face. Watching him closely, mesmerised as he glides the makeup brush down over the high plains of his cheekbones in slow, methodical strokes.

To you Arthur is gorgeous at the best of times, but as you silently watch him you're struck by the glow that seems to surround him as he focuses intently on his task. You've never seen him quite as attractive as he is right now, occupied with this creative energy to the exclusion of all else.

He's sitting at his mom's old vanity, his bare back facing towards you. You can't help noticing the difference in his physique. Sure, Arthur is still very slim, but each single vertebrae in his spine is no longer visible like it used to be, and the sight makes your smile grow wider still.

Since you've been together his appetite is slowly but surely increasing. Years of taking medication wreaked havoc with his metabolism, effected his appetite to the extent that he scarcely ate at all. Surviving on a meagre bowl of porridge a day, his staple diet mostly consisting of cigarettes and strong coffee.

But he's not taken his medication for a while now, and he claims he feels much better for it. More alert, and liberated even. You've come to understand that liberation he speaks of is Joker being set free. Joker being Arthur's alter-ego. The charismatic, confident clown that is bolder, more mischievous, and more outspoken than Arthur is as himself.

And the transformation takes place once the makeup and red suit is on.

You consider yourself to be the luckiest girl in the world, being able to refer to this rare, beautiful anomaly of a man as your significant other, and ever since you've been an item you've spent every moment trying to convince him that he's worthy of love.

Without the greasepaint, Arthur is still plagued by his insecurities. A toxic combination of a lifetime of drudgery, mental illness, childhood neglect, mockery and abuse, meant he suffered a loveless, lonely existence.
That is until Joker broke free and he set the whole of Gotham aflame with his controversial behaviour. And like the rest of his "followers" you found the uproar and chaos he caused, dangerous and delicious.
It made you feel alive and more inclined to live for the moment. Yours along with many others dreary lives in Gotham had suddenly become more meaningful, more exciting, thanks to him.

You'd been returning from the protest rally down at city hall on that infamous, life-changing night. It was a happy accident that you'd taken the route home which led you passed the scene where you'd witnessed the clown prince of crime's rise to power.
The way he'd danced flamboyantly on the hood of the smashed-up cop car had captivated you. Enchanted you like some other-worldly creature.
Your eyes had met across the crowd, surrounded by flames and rioting mobs.
And the rest was history.

You've come to know both sides of the man you were infatuated with. Arthur and 'Joker', and your infatuation has deepened and evolved into a warm friendship and unconditional love.

You adored him with every fibre of your being, and you'd grown to understand him. His fears, his passions, his insecurities, his pleasure, his pain.
And whilst it was undeniably true that as Joker, Arthur was flourishing, but even in his moments of glory his piercing eyes were always noticeably glassy. The blue painted triangle around his left eye much longer than the right, due to the silent tears he shed.

You'd vowed to make it your mission, your sole responsibility, to ensure he cried no more. Unless they were happy tears. Tears of unrivalled joy, as you repaired his previously brittle heart. Loving him so hard that all of his broken pieces stuck back together again.

Just then, exquisite sea green eyes met yours in the vanity mirror. His gaze so intense it sent a cluster of tingles down your spine.

Smiling a little, Arthur said, "Well, good morning sleepyhead. I didn't know you were awake. How long have you been staring at me?"

"Not long enough." You giggled in response.

Laughter, tantalising and real, lit his eyes as he continued to look at you in the reflection of the glass. "Why would you want to?"

Climbing from beneath the comforter you crawled down the bed towards him. "Mmm, you know why."

"Do I?" He raised an eyebrow, looking at you coquettishly through his long lashes.

"Arthur, you know I love it when you're being coy. You're so sexy."

Kneeling on the bottom of the bed you leaned forwards and wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

Beneath the white paint his face grew more pink, flustered by your comment.
You knew he loved your compliments, he just wasn't entirely sure how to accept them yet. Your attentions made his heart soar. The heart that had once sat in his chest, hardened, cold and heavy like a stone. Now, thanks to you, it felt light as a feather. Like it might float away. And he needed you. Needed you there to catch it just in case it did.

Swivelling around on his stool to face you, his gentle smile lit up his alabaster face. "I still can't believe that you're real." He said, in that deep, yet soft, voice of his.

His proclamation would have melted your heart but his adorableness had long since caused it to melt into a gooey mess.

God, you loved him so much. There were no words to define it.

"Does this feel real enough to you?" You asked as you took his large hands in your daintier ones, bringing each one up in turn and kissing them.

Arthur's eyes flickered shut. You loved seeing his reactions. The way he responded to your actions. In the beginning he hadn't known how to respond. Never having been shown such love before. On the rare occasion he'd spoke of his past relationships, it didn't take a genius to work out that he wasn't accustomed to affection....

"I..I've only ever kissed three people."

He'd once admitted to you, awkwardly.

"The first time was a girl in school, and she....she only did it for a dare. The second time was a girl I met at the comedy club. She was drunk, so it didn't mean anything...."

"And the third?"

You'd urged cautiously, not wanting to make him feel embarrassed or pressured into talking about his past experiences with women.

"S-she was a girl from the community centre where my mom, uh, Penny, used to go on Sundays. She was a volunteer there. We actually went on a couple of dates, but it didn't go anywhere. She found the laughing thing too difficult to deal with. It made her feel uncomfortable when we were out in public."

His admittance made your heart ache with sadness for him. You told him that woman was a fool for not accepting him for who he was, laugh and all.
Then you'd told him how his condition made him unique, special, and you would never be ashamed of him. On the contrary you were proud to be his girlfriend. His friend. His lover.

It had taken Arthur a long while to feel confident enough to make love to you.
His willing body had been overruled by his mind. His insecurities about his appearance, his physique, coupled with the concerns he had regarding his lack of sexual experience had held him back for months.

When he'd finally gained the courage to take you to bed he'd done it as Joker, and was yet to feel comfortable enough to engage with you sexually without his makeup.
You respected his wishes and didn't push him, and he loved you all the more for your patience and understanding.

Leaving him in peace to finish the lengthy process of painting his face, you got up and went into the kitchen to fix him some breakfast.

"(y/n) you're too good to me." He remarked, upon walking into the living room to see the pile of toast and jam you'd made him, along with coffee.

The coffee was strong and sweet just how he liked it. The caffeine helped keep him awake and the sugar gave him the energy he needed to keep him going when he had a long day ahead, ruling his clown army.

"Not at all." You replied, smiling contently as he began munching on a slice of toast. "You deserve to be loved, Arthur. And this is just my way of showing how much I love you."

"I know." His red painted lips made his grin appear more devilish. "But I still can't figure out what I did to deserve you. You're an angel. And I'm like a...a demon, or something."

"No you're not. Don't say that. You're so precious."

Arthur devoured the entire plate of toast in a matter of a few minutes. He finished his coffee, lit a cigarette, and followed you into the kitchen.

"Thank you sweetheart, that was delicious. Just like you."

You blushed a little and couldn't help smiling moronically. He was always more forthcoming with compliments when he was in full Joker get-up.
And of course you loved it.

"I don't want to ruin your lipstick." You giggled as he threaded his arms around you, pulling you close. His lips hungry for something more than just food.

"I'll take the chance." He chuckled, nuzzling your neck. "It's more than worth it."

Before you could respond his lips were on yours. He'd moved towards you so quickly and forcefully he was pushing you back against the counter.
Blood rushed around your entire body, making you feel wired and hot.
His palms squeezed your hips urgently, like he was desperate to hold onto you forever. And you would gladly let him.

Your hands shifted from his chest to his neck, before sliding them into his emerald curls, winding your fingers through each lock, no doubt messing up his gelled, slicked-back look.

You were forced to break the kiss in order to catch your breath, and you rested your forehead against his.

"A-Arthur, sweetie, as much as I never want to stop kissing you...you're going to be late."

Taking a step back he ran a hand over his tousled hair, smoothing it down, and rolled his eyes. Not at you. He was just frustrated that he had to leave when all he really wanted to do was carry you into the bedroom, bridal style, throw you onto the soft mattress and make passionate love to you.

But he had a job to do. His 'people' would be eagerly awaiting their leader.

"You're right. I guess we'll have to wait until I get home then." He grumbled, retrieving his burning cigarette from the ashtray.

"I'll be waiting." Slipping your arms around his waist you pulled him in for one last hug before he left. "You take care of yourself, d'you hear? I want you home safe and in one piece."

"Anything for you (y/n). I promise I'll stay safe. For you."

You walked him to the door, sad as always watching him go.
Slipping his cigarette between his lips he turned back to you just before entering the elevator,

"Oh and that colour lipstick looks really good on you." He winked.

Your reached up and touched your still tingling lips, and smiled happily to yourself.

***

As a result of the uprising, Gotham was almost predominantly free for the taking, and Joker had taken it.

He and his band of clowns ensured that the poor residents of the city no longer had to struggle to survive. The criminal syndicate robbed banks and other wealthy establishments then distributed the money fairly, so nobody had to live in poverty anymore.
Of course it was illegal and risky, and you worried for your beloved's safety, but his commitment to his cause made him a hero in your eyes. Like some sort of modern day incarnation of Robin Hood, robbing the rich to help out the poor.

Whenever he'd carried out a bank heist Arthur would come home exhausted and often with a few minor scrapes and bruises. He wasn't the steadiest on his feet, but his clumsiness was just another one of his endearing attributes. Tripping and falling as he ran from police, you were forever imploring him to be more careful, as you tended to his grazed knees, elbows and hands.

Anticipating his arrival that evening, you drew him a nice hot bath to help soothe his aching muscles.

When you heard the sound of his key turning in the lock you eagerly rushed to greet him.

"Hi honey, I'm home." He quipped, grinning crookedly as you threw your arms around his neck. "Did you miss me?"

His makeup was even more of a smudged mess than usual, having melted as a result of him sweating.

"As always." You retorted, kissing his cheek.
You'd grown accustomed to the taste of greasepaint. His distinctive scent of cigarettes mingled with the spicy zing of his cologne.

"How was your day?" He asked.

His attentiveness never failed to touch you. Always enquiring how your day had been, when his had clearly been rough and fraught with danger.

"It was okay. I caught up with some friends, did some baking..."

Hie eyes instantly lit up. "I don't suppose you made--?"

"Triple chocolate cookies? Sure did. Just for you, my gorgeous."

"You're an angel." Cupping your face tenderly, he pressed a single, perfect kiss against your smiling lips.

"How was your day?"

"Oh, you know, exhausting and hectic as usual." Slipping out of his red jacket he tossed it onto the back of a nearby chair. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I know you wouldn't." You smiled knowingly, shaking your head in amusement.
Arthur was truly one of a kind. He seemed to thrive on chaos. The danger making him feel empowered and more alive.
"Dinner's in the oven and won't be long, but you have time to take a bath. I've filled the tub for you."

Arthur stood motionless for a long moment, just staring at you in awe, as if he still wasn't convinced of your existence.

"You spoil me (y/n). I don't know what I'd do without you, light of my darkness."

Tears begin to form at the corners of your eyes and you hurriedly blinked them away, not wanting him to mistake them for sadness. Arthur couldn't bear to see you cry. Even when it was just a sad scene in a movie that moved you to tears, he would insist on telling you jokes, or quite literally acting the clown, until he had you laughing again.

He went to take his bath while you checked on the casserole, which was one of Arthur's favourite dishes.

A few minutes later you made your way down the hall, and seeing the bathroom door slightly ajar, slowly pushed it open.

"(y/n)!" He exclaimed, shocked by your unexpected entrance.

"Sorry, I just wanted to check you hadn't gotten into any scrapes while you were out."

His freshly washed face turned dusky. He was standing by the sink shirtless and only wearing his boxers. It was a sight you stupidly hadn't been prepared for, but you'd expected him to be in the bath by now, immersed up to his chest in foamy bubbles.

"I-it's okay, you don't need to apologise." He murmured, looking down shyly. "You know I just don't want you seeing me...you know, naked."

"Oh Arthur, the last thing I ever want to do is make you feel uncomfortable." You gave an apologetic smile, taking hold of his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "But you don't ever have to hide from me. I love you for you, unconditionally. You're beautiful."

He scoffed, eyes narrowing sceptically until they were little more than a faint greenish glitter. "I'm not beautiful."

"You might not think so but I do. We all have imperfections, I have plenty of my own."

"No you don't. You're perfect."

"To you maybe, but that's precisely my point."

His nervous eyes studied your face intently, as if searching for signs that you were lying simply just to try and assuage his fears.

Feeling defeated, you sighed heavily. Sad that you weren't able to convince him of your sincerity.

"I...I'm sorry."

"It's okay, sweetie. I don't want to pressure you."

Turning to leave, you suddenly felt his hand gently catch hold of your arm.

"No, I mean I'm sorry for doubting you. It's just, I'm not pretty to look at, and I still don't understand what it is you see in me, or why you love me so much."

"Oh, Arthur--"

"But I guess I don't have to understand. I know that you do love me, regardless of how I feel about myself." He interjected, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You prove to me everyday in a million different ways that you love me, and you'll never know how much that means to me."

His nose flared as he let out a hard breath, and you watched in stunned silence as he anxiously slipped out of his boxers, then climbed into the tub right before your very eyes.

And honestly, you didn't think you would ever grow bored of seeing him naked.
The fact that he now trusted you enough to do so, meant everything to you. Knowing the courage it must've taken him to strip with the lights on, and without wearing his makeup, you wasted no time in letting him know how much you appreciated him making the effort to overcome his hang-ups.

"Thank you, Arthur. I'm so glad you felt comfortable enough to do that."

With a casual shrug of the shoulder, he tried hard to play down the importance of such an important development. "I mean, I guess it wasn't that bad. I was being an idiot."

"You're not an idiot. You're amazing."

Taking a seat beside the bath, you kissed his forehead tenderly, then picked up the jug and began washing his glorious mane of hair.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you, Arthur Fleck?" You smiled a besotted smile, admiring the way in which his lips curled upwards in return, softening the stern contours of his handsome face.

"Not in the last few minutes." He chuckled, the sound of his genuine laughter warming you like summer rain. "And I'll never get tired of hearing it."

                                                                    End