Good Heart, Arthur Fleck X Reader

Good Heart, Arthur Fleck x Reader

Request: Hi, found your blog in the joker tag. Can u write a oneshot where the reader is a badass and stands up for arthur on a train or something? Maybe someone is bullying him and she steps in somehow? Thanks! Warning: Cursing, slight violence Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Reader A/N: Thank you anon for my first request on this account! I hope you enjoy!

***

Nothing disgusted you more than what you were currently witnessing. You’d seen a lot of things in your life, people getting mugged, killed, conned, all the likes. But nothing bothered you more than two guys ganging up on someone weaker than them for no other reason than boredom.

The man was trying to keep quiet, keeping his eyes on the floor while he took the verbal assault. That made you even more upset. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself. He must have been used to it. You watched carefully, ready to step in if it got too much. Maybe you should do it before it got too much. There was no one else on the train anyways, no one but you to come to his aid.

“Is he laughing?” One of the men asked, shoving his friend lightly. “Look at him, he thinks it’s funny.”

“What’s so funny?” His friend countered, sitting down uncomfortably close to their victim. This caused him to burst into laughter, covering his mouth as tears gathered in his eyes. 

A shaking hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a white laminated card. You couldn’t read it from where you were but it peaked your interest even more. You took a step forward and tilted your head to get a better look.

“A condition? Yeah, you looked like the crazy type.” The first man snorted, letting the card drop to the ground. 

You decided to speak up, you’d let it go on way too long. “That’s more than enough.” You used the voice your mother taught you to use with men like them, strong and firm. “Pick that card up and hand it back to him.”

All three were looking at you like you were crazy, but at least they were no longer focused on tormenting the innocent man. 

“I’m sorry, what-”

“I know you heard me.” You maintained eye contact, keeping your face as empty as possible. You’d done this before, but it had only been to defend yourself. Never others. “I’m not going to ask again.”

They tried to put on a show of laughing and rolling their eyes, but it was clear they’d never been stood up to before and they were a little thrown off, maybe even a little nervous.

“Listen, lady,” The taller of the two men reached out to touch your shoulder, giving you the window you needed. In a second you had his arm pinned painfully behind his back, twisting in that perfect way you’d been taught. “What the fuck?” He sputtered, struggling for a moment before giving in to the pain. 

“Give him his card.” You said to the other man who was trying to process what the hell just happened. 

“Give him the fucking card.” He panted in your grasp. 

He dipped down and picked up the laminated card, quickly handing it to the man still sitting on the seats. He looked dumbfounded, gawking up at you with admiration and confusion. 

You decided to have a little more fun with them, twisting his arm to its limit. He cried out, eyes clenched and teeth-gritting. “Apologize.”

“Sorry, Jesus fucking christ.” 

“We’re sorry.”

“Will you let me go now? Fuck!”

You looked at the green-eyed man and raised a brow, smiling at him. “What’s your name?”

“Arthur.” He answered quickly, lips parted in awe at you.

“Should I let him go?” You asked, flipping the hair out of your face that had fallen in your confrontation. 

He didn’t answer immediately, furrowing his brows. He was confused, rightfully so, no one had ever stood up for him before. What did he do to deserve you as a savior? He glanced at the face of the man trapped in your grip, his face red and twisted in pain. As much as he’d like to see them suffer, he answered. “Yeah.” 

You threw the man forward, watching him fall and stumble to his feet. His friend barely checked if he was okay before putting as much distance as he could between himself and you. The train creaked to a stop, the doors opening to release the two men to safety.

Looking back to Arthur you sighed, giving him a tired smile before fixing your hair.

“Where, what,” He wondered if he was dreaming. “Where did you learn,” “Any smart girl in this city should get self-defense training.” You explained, sitting across from him on the worn train seats. “I just went the extra mile and paid for more intense sessions.”

Your mother was the one insisted you go, being the daughter of one of Gotham’s highest-paid magazine publishers had its dangers. People had tried to rob you often, but thanks to your mother they were never successful. Arthur shook his head, still in disbelief. “I don’t understand why you’d do that for me.” His fingers toyed with the card in his hands, flipping it over and rubbing the edges. He was so used to being overlooked that the fact you stood up for him was impossible to understand.

“I would hope anyone with a good heart would do the same. No one deserves to be treated like that.” When the train started moving again your body swayed with the movement before straightening again. “If anyone ever bothers you like that again, give me a call, alright?” You pulled out your notebook, writing down your number. “Anytime, day or night. My mom’s made a name for herself in the city, and needless to say,” You tore the sheet out and handed it to him, your fingers brushing against each other for a few drawn-out moments. “If you have a problem I can handle it.”

Arthur looked down at the perfectly drawn out numbers on the crisp white paper, smiling. “Thank you, really.” A good heart. You were right about that.

You hoped he would call. You’d like to see more of him.