Things Work Themselves Out, Arthur Fleck X Reader

Margot Robbie’s Harley + Joaquin Phoenix’s Joker

tag list:  @lavenderwatercolor @mardema

Side profiles omfg...

arthur;

joaquin lookin like a snack;

Fuck The Rich, Joker x Reader

Summary: You’d seen him on the Murray Franklin show and felt instantly drawn to the man, so you go to the riots in support. You didn’t plan on helping him escape, but you did and brought him to your apartment. What do you expect to happen when you’re alone with a murderous man?

Warnings: Cursing, violence, extremely rough sex, bondage, crying, slapping, gagging, spit play, bloodplay, hints of dubcon but it’s entirely consensual. 

Pairing: Joker x Reader

A/N: This is possibly the filthiest smut I’ve ever written and I’m not even ashamed. I hope you all enjoy reading it as I did writing it!

***

How did you end up here, letting him in your apartment? What were you thinking? How did letting Joker take refuge from the police in your apartment seem like a good idea? 

It all happened so fast, you were at the riots and saw him standing there like a god, blood on his face, his own mixed with the splatters of Murray Franklin. You thought fast and took him with you, sneaking through the crowd as police surrounded the street. How you managed to get him here without anyone seeing was a miracle in itself.

“Now what?” You whispered, mostly to yourself. He walked into your living room, taking in the sight of it, shaking his head. It was perfect, too perfect, you prided yourself on your organization and cleanliness.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” He asked, turning to face you. You still stood in front of the door. 

“One of them?”

He stalked towards you like a jaguar cornering its prey. “All these pretty expensive things. Your jewelry.” When he stood in front of you he grabbed your necklace and pulled you towards him. “You’re one of them.”

Sure, you had a few expensive things and lived in a nice apartment. But one of the rich? No, you went to the riots yourself for crying out loud, you shared his ideas.

“You know what I want to do to people like you?” He breathed, looking down at you. His green eyes saw straight into your soul, breaking down every wall you’d tried to put up. “To pretty rich girls who’ve never known what fear is?”

What was he going to do to you? You were scared, as you should be, you were downright terrified. But at the same time, he was looking at you with a predatory gaze that filled you with a very familiar need.

“No.” You looked up at him and tried your best to seem unwavered, but you knew he saw right through it. 

His hand shot behind your head and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back to bare your neck to him. You cried out and grabbed at his hand, stumbling backward, but he just leaned down to graze his teeth against your throat. “I’m going to show you.”

In one swift moment, he shoved you to your knees by your hair, unbuttoning his red suit pants. His zipper went down and his cock came out, hard, red and demanding attention. Oh god. Your mouth watered when you saw it and you looked up to his face. 

“Open your mouth.” His voice was so calm and he seemed so nonchalant about it all, as if he did this for a living. When you didn’t do as he told you he slapped your face, not too hard but enough to hurt. 

“Oh, fuck.” You gasped and your body swayed from the force of it before steadying. “Please, I,” 

He slapped you again and you cried out, opening your mouth for him as a sob shook through your form. You wanted it, you wanted it so fucking bad, so bad you wept. 

“Good girl.” He muttered and directed the tip of his cock to your lips, rubbing it against them before dipping it in your mouth. He fucked your mouth slowly at first, using his grip on your hair to bob your head on him.

He tasted like sweat. Your eyes teared up and you held on to his thighs, taking a moment to pull yourself together. After a while, you got more into it, using your tongue to please him and even hollowing out your cheeks and bobbing your head yourself.

He liked that. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, rocking his hips gently against your face while you pleased him. 

At one point he went too far in, touching the back of your throat, and you gagged. You pulled away from him to stop from vomiting and he groaned in displeasure. You looked amazing to him, your spit trickling down your chin, eyes wet with mascara running down your cheeks, which were still red from his hand.

“That’s enough.” He yanked you to your feet, your scalp screaming at this point. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“It’s, uh,” You fought to think clearly but he was impatient.

“No, I think I’ll just have you here.” He mused and let go of your hair, grabbing your face in both of his hands. He kissed you hard, tasting himself in your mouth while you tasted blood. 

Your mind raced but thought of nothing at the same time, your heart felt like it would break out of your chest and your pussy throbbed. You’d never felt like this in your life, so afraid but so needy. It felt carnal, almost animalistic, you loved every second of it.

When he finally parted from your lips he looked over you, taking in your outfit. A black skirt, button-up white shirt tucked in, your pink cardigan had been left at the door. You’d gotten too hot with his cock in your mouth so you shed it. “Your choice of attire for the riots, it’s unconventional, isn’t it?” His hand rested on your thigh, snaking up your skirt. “Seems a bit silly, doesn’t it?” He whispered and his fingers danced along the inside of your legs, not going up higher, not yet.

“I just got off work.” You defended yourself, looking down at his arm. You could see his red sleeve, but his hand was covered by your skirt. 

“Some cushy office job?” He hummed and moved his hand higher, to the edge of your hips where your panties started. He hooked his pointer finger in the waistline and tugged, pulling you closer to him. “Where you get to sit all day, not worrying about a damn thing.” It was like he hated you for being more privileged than others, something you had no control over. 

You didn’t know what to say so you kept quiet and listened, completely at his mercy and fine with it. 

He took off your panties slowly, a stark contrast to his earlier behavior, he drug them down to your knees and let them fall around your ankles, getting hung on your heels.

“Take your shoes off.” He stepped back to watch, taking his still hard cock in his hand and pumping it a few times.

You stepped out of your panties and kicked your heels off, waiting for more instruction.

He watched you stand there, stroking his cock and thinking. “You know what I’m going to do to you tonight, don’t you?” He said finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You nodded and he walked forward, picking up your panties, he’d need them in a moment. “If you try to stop me-”

“I won’t.” You cut him off, shaking your head. You wanted him so bad. You were so wet it was starting to drip down your inner thigh.

“Good. I didn’t want to finish that.” You imagined what he would do if you resisted, he’d probably kill you, the cops had taken his gun so he’d have to use one of your kitchen knives, maybe even choke you to death.

You were deep in thought about the ways he could kill you when he lunged forward, not liking the fact you weren’t paying attention to him anymore. He grabbed you by your neck and pushed you further into your living room until you fell back on your footstool into a sitting position. 

It was a simple thing, a soft square piece of furniture that matched your white couch. It was expensive, the whole set costing a few thousand dollars, but it came with the apartment so it wasn’t your property.

He pushed it along the floor until it came in contact with your couch so you could lay down fully without half of your body hanging off. In one quick movement, he pushed you down and climbed on top of you, knees resting on either side of your hips.

The panties were still in his hand, now ready for his intentions. He grabbed your hands and looped them around your wrists a few times, stretching them and twisting them to the point you couldn’t free yourself. You’d never be able to wear them again, which was a shame, they were one of your favorite pair.

He liked the way you looked bound, hands above your head, helpless to him and anything he wanted to do. 

“You look so pretty like this.” He grabbed your legs, lifting them from between his and spreading them with a tight grip on your thighs. Running his fingers over your cheeks, wiping away the black streaks of tears. You liked the soft feeling, even relaxing a little, and then he slapped you again, harder this time. “I know you like it rough. I can tell. The pretty quiet ones always do.” 

When he slapped you a second time you gasped, your head turning away from him and you wiggled under his form. He took advantage of your pain and shoved two fingers in your open mouth, gagging you to the point where tears trickled down your temples. He used his fingers in your mouth to turn your head so you looked up at him.

He loved it. Seeing you cry and squirm under him made his cock throb angrily, prompting him to continue his assault. He slapped you a few more times but they weren’t as satisfying since they were blunted by the side of his hand. He took his fingers from your mouth so he could hit you better.

“Please, it hurts.” You cried, pulling at your restraints. In reality, you didn’t want him to stop, not at all, you wanted him to hit and abuse you, leave bruises all over your body and make you hurt.

“That’s the point.” Finally, he stopped, but only to grab his cock and shove it inside you. 

You yelped, head falling back in surprise. If you weren’t so wet there was no way he would have entered you that smoothly. He was so fucking thick and long, he filled you and then some. He pushed in until he couldn’t anymore, then pulled out completely only to slam back into you.

“You fucking love it.” He hissed in your face, thrusting into you hard and slow, savoring each time his cock buried into you. “Say it.”

“I love it!” You cried, mouth agape as you took in each breath as a gasp. “I love it so much, it feels so good!” 

He spit into your open mouth, shocking you. No one had ever done that to you. Yet, no one had ever slapped you and tied you up with your own panties. His spit was almost completely blood, maybe ten percent of it being his own saliva. You wanted to spit it out but he closed your mouth and held his hand over your mouth, forcing you to swallow.

“That’s my good girl.” He whispered when you swallowed, taking his hand off your mouth.

You wanted to know what would happen if you made him mad. 

He slipped his fingers back in your mouth, closing his eyes and thrusting into you with that same slow yet painfully hard pace.

Perfect. 

You waited a moment and bit down on his fingers, hard. When his eyes snapped open your heart raced with excitement, your pussy clenching around him in anticipation. 

He saw that look in your eyes and realized you wanted to test him. “Oh, that’s how it’s going to be?” He huffed and pulled out of you, standing up so he could flip you onto your stomach. 

He slapped your ass harder than he’d slapped your face, not giving you time to react before he hit you again. Over and over, fast and vicious, using all of his strength.

Fuck, maybe you weren’t ready for that.

You shouted in pain but your cries were muffled into the couch cushion. He grabbed you by your hair and lifted your head from the couch so he could hear you scream before slapping you again. “I like the way you scream.” He grunted, switching to your other cheek to redden it like the former. 

It seemed he would never stop, at one point your skin went from raw to numb. When that happened he stopped, providing you with momentary relief, but then he laid back down on top of you and shoved his cock back inside you.

“You’re so much wetter than before.” He groaned in your ear, lifting your hips up slightly with one hand and grabbing a fistful of hair with the other, pulling your head back so sharply you thought he’d snap your neck. 

The position you were in was heavenly. Your elbows propped the upper half of your body up just enough, your shoulders and neck pulled back by your hair, with your back arched and his arm looped under your waist to hold your hips up.

He fucked himself into you, hard and fast now, each time his hips hit your ass it forced a gasp out of you. He didn’t hold back one bit. 

You’d already orgasmed so many times. First, when he entered you, a second time when he started slapping you, and now again with him pulling your hair while he fucked you. How he lasted this long you had no idea, it had been at least an hour.

He had no idea either, he was never one to last long. But each time he felt his orgasm coming he’d stop, fight it off and continue. 

Finally, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He’d been edging himself for so long it became impossible to stop and once he felt it start he let it happen.

He raised you by your hair, rising with you so you both were on your knees in the couch, your back pressed against his chest and when he let go of your hair your head laid back on his shoulder. He maneuvered just the right way so he could sit down with his feet planted on the floor, turning you in his lap. Your legs wrapped around his waist and you raised your arms, still bound at the wrists, and looped it around his head to rest your forearms on his shoulders. 

He came, fast and hard, letting out filthy moans as he emptied himself up into you. His body shuddered and twitched, riding out the best orgasm of his life, the best of it lasting five seconds but the entire thing spanning ten. 

There was so much of him. When he picked you up off of him and set you down on your footstool it poured out of you, two separate streams oozing down your inner thighs all the way to your ankles. And there was still so much inside.

You’d orgasmed four times that night. Your clit was sensitive to the touch and your insides throbbed blissfully. 

After his heart rate slowed down a bit and he got some of his strength back he turned to you, unwrapping your panties from your wrist and freeing your hands. He tossed them on the ground and sighed, slicking his hair back which was soaked with sweat.

“Where’s your shower?” He breathed as streams of sweat ran down his neck to soak into his suit, cloudy with his face paint. 

“Down the hall. Last door on the right.” You swallowed and turned onto your side, nuzzling your cheek into the cool fabric of an untouched area of your couch. “Are you going to leave?”

He stood up and took off his suit jacket, enjoying the breeze he got from being free of a layer. “No, not tonight, and not any time soon. I don’t think it would be wise. They’re looking for me.”

You nodded, watching him walk down the hall to your bathroom. “Okay.” 

You didn’t care how long he stayed, as long as he fucked you just like that many more times. 

Outside the riots were still going strong, you could barely hear them, shouts and chants, one of them being ‘fuck the rich’. 

You smiled.

☀️

Joaquin Phoenix attending the conference of ‘Reservation Road’ back in 2007 at the Toronto International Film Festival

Dream Walking ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: you catch rick having a wet dream about you. you both try to move on from it, but with it stuck in each of your minds, it's near impossible to just go back to the way things were.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, dub-con, age gap (20s, late 30s), wet dreams, somnophilia

word count: 5.4k

Since the prison fell, you’ve had time to think about what it is you miss most. The security of the fences was nice, so was the comfort of the thin mattresses. There were also the routines everyone had fallen into that filled your days with a sliver of how life felt before everything went wrong. However, the piece you missed most, the thing you craved on nights like these, was the privacy of your cell.

You took those months for granted at the time. The ability to retire to your own space once the sun set was long gone. Now you lie with the rest of the group on the floor of this barn, sleeping all together like a pack of wolves in a den.

It wasn’t that it was horrible. You felt safe with everyone so close. You also didn’t have to worry about anything going wrong in the night without your knowledge. It just wasn’t as pleasant as getting to be alone at the end of the day when both your mind and body are tired. How you craved the sound of the steel bars shutting and the feeling of the lumpy pillow against your head.

But all that lies underneath a pile of rubble now. There was no use wishing for another time you’d never get back.

You sigh and roll onto your side. The thunder and rain outside was keeping you up. Your eyes scan the dark room to try and find another open pair, any one of your friends who would be able to suffer along with you. You don’t find any, which is a good thing you suppose, but now you’re left to lay all alone in hopes of sleep calling your name sometime soon.

You were in the corner of the barn with your jacket tucked under your head. That’s the spot you’d taken up as soon as people were picking where to sleep. You liked having walls to your back. It was less space for something to hide or attack from. Some of your friends like Abraham and Daryl lie along the walls like you while others like Carl and Michonne rest near the center, wanting to be close to any potential threat.

Rick sleeps a foot or two from you. He’s on his back, one arm behind his head while the other is draped over his abdomen. You can hear the deep and even rhythm of his breath, and you know that he’s out cold at least for the time being.

After a little while he rolls onto his side like you had, and you think that you’ve found someone to share your struggles with. When you look over at him though, his eyes are still shut, his lips are still parted, and his body is still limp. 

Your lips purse with disappointment, but your eyes soften. He needed the rest. He’d been stretching himself to the limit ever since your group had barely made it out of Terminus alive. You understood why. The group needed somewhere stable to call home. You just wished he wouldn’t put that responsibility entirely on himself.

You always liked Rick. He’d taken you in a couple months after the outbreak when you were scared and alone, shaking and covered in blood on the side of the highway. You’d just seen the final members of your previous group fall victim to the dead. On the verge of giving up and letting a herd claim you too, you saw him dash by. He was looking for a missing little girl. Instead he’d found you.

Even on the farm when everyone was fighting over everything all the time, you admired him like you did now. It was almost weird to think of him now compared to back then. The clean-cut officer friendly you’d met a couple years ago now sported shaggy hair and a beard along with eyes always scanning for danger.

The crush you harbored for him was as strong as ever though. Not one thing about that had changed. Unlike his hair, you hadn't grown out of it in the slightest.

You continue watching him while the wind and rain team up to beat against the wooden slats of the barn walls. Interrupting your study of his features, he grunts. It’s quiet; so much so that you almost miss it amongst the other noise. It seems ordinary enough, but he does it again. And then again as he rolls further to his side so that he’s nearly on his stomach.

“Mmmm…” he sighs, “Fuck.”

Your eyes widen a little at that, but you smile, wondering what was frustrating him in the world of his dreams. His lips smack idly against one another for a moment before he speaks again.

“Just like that, baby. Atta girl,” he murmurs.

And now you’re really interested. 

Your hand flies to your mouth to stifle your reaction. You didn’t know whether to laugh or try to wake him. You knew that waking him up would be the right thing to do… but you didn’t want to just yet. He rolls his hips against the hard ground he’s sleeping on, which you know can’t feel that good. But he does it again. And he looks like a divine being as he does so, everything about him enrapturing you.

Another low groan seeps from his mouth, and a couple incoherent words follow. You bite your lip and look around again to make sure no one else is watching you. You couldn’t help wondering who he was dreaming of. Maybe Lori still crossed his mind every once in a while or possibly he harbored some secret desire for someone in the group. Perhaps it was just a plain old sex dream and he was envisioning some woman he liked before the world changed.

“Fuck…” he grunts again, “Such a good girl.”

Warmth simmers to life in your belly, and you find your thighs rubbing against one another. Those two words were a weak spot of yours, so of course he'd have to rasp them out like that. You'd be lying if you said you'd never imagined them falling from his lips but hearing it in reality was so much sweeter.

His arms shift around as he continues trying to find some relief against the dirt. By this point, a bulge has formed at the front of his pants, and the sight is enough to make your mouth water. You know this is wrong, perving on him like this, but you swear to yourself that you're gonna wake him up. Just a few more seconds. Though before you get the chance, he moans again.

Among some expletives and praise, your name floats into the night. The syllables leak out in a hushed manner, but they send a jolt through you regardless. Your eyes widen and the heat in your tummy creeps up through your neck into your cheeks.

"Just a little deeper, dolly," he slurs, "That's it."

This time you're unable to repress the laughter that bubbles in your chest. The sound is soft, but it's enough to rouse him.

His eyes flutter open, his pupils still laden with sleep. It takes him a few seconds to register all that's going on.

"What're you gigglin' about?" he grumbles as he sits up and rubs his face.

But as soon as he moves, he becomes conscious of what was so amusing to you. He feels it rock hard against his thigh and flashes of his dream run through his mind. You can see it on his face, the embarrassment over the fact that he'd been caught having a wet dream. Caught by the very person it starred.

"Sorry," you simper.

He tries to maintain his usual stern temperament, but you see his humility in the flush of his cheeks. He can't look you in the eyes right now. His mind struggles to grasp the words that would make this better.

"Grow up," he mumbles as he starts to roll the other direction, "You've never had one of those? How old are you?"

"Old enough for you to dream about apparently," you say with another little laugh as you go to lay down yourself.

"Shut up," he mutters before closing his eyes again.

A few days went by before either of you addressed it. That was Rick's doing since he pretty much avoided you as best he could after it happened. It made you a little sad, but it was understandable. You probably would've done the same if the roles were reversed.

The group had left the shack from that night in search of more food and water. The bunch of you stagger in factions as you walk along some train tracks through the woods. Maggie, Glenn, and Tara lead at the front while Michonne with Carl carrying Judith linger a little behind them. You're trekking along with Sasha and Rosita before letting yourself fall back so you can be besides Rick.

"Are you mad at me?" you ask.

He glances over at you. "No, I'm not mad at you," he states matter of factly. 

"It seems like you are."

"Why's that?" he asks.

"Cause you've been avoiding me," you say with a coy smile.

"I haven't been avoidin' you," he denies.

"Mhm," you respond, "C'mon, it's not that big of a deal. Things don't have to be weird now."

His eyes remain on you as if trying to analyze your intentions. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything," he says.

"The only thing making me uncomfortable is how awkward you are around me now," you say with a little feigned pout, "Seriously, I don't care. It was just a dream. People can't control dreams. It's not like I caught you jerkin’ off to a picture of me."

"Keep your voice down," he says, eyes flitting ahead to make sure no one had heard the topic of your conversation. He then sighs and runs a hand over his sweaty hair.

"C'mon, Rick," you say. You give his arm a little shove but do make a point to lower your volume. "I'm sorry for laughing at you."

"No you're not," he says and for the first time in days, he cracks a small smile.

Your face reflects his expression like a mirror. "Well... it was funny. But I still didn't mean to make you feel bad. It doesn't bother me or anything. I know dreams don't reflect real life," you reassure him.

He nods and remains quiet for a moment as the two of you continue down the tracks. You were slightly hoping he'd tell you his dream was based in reality. That he did want you while awake just as much as he did while he slept. But that was a wilder dream than the one that had caused all this. 

He finally speaks and looks over at you again. "I appreciate you keeping it to yourself and not making a thing out of it."

"Of course," you beam at him, "I'm a good girl, remember?"

He gives you an unamused stare in response before lightly shoving the back of your head, guiding you back towards the rest of the group. Despite his outward annoyance, you could see the fondness return to his eyes.

It only took you a few weeks to make Rick regret his leniency in regards to your jokes. You still hadn't told anyone directly about his dream which he was grateful for, but people would probably find out soon enough with all your teasing and hinting.

At first, it seemed like you truly wanted to move on from it; leave what you'd witnessed in the past and forever wonder if the dream spawned from a place of true desire or just his brain fucking with him. Things were stressful enough for everyone during that week, especially Rick. The group had nearly succumbed to dehydration one day and struggled to find shelter for the next few.

But then you all had been invited to Alexandria. You and the others had been welcomed with open arms into a slice of the old world. Everything seemed to settle down for the most part. Your people were still on edge, Rick was ready for conflict at any moment, but no longer were you constantly worried about if you'd be able to find food or water.

And with things simmering down, Rick was pretty sure you decided that it'd be ok for you to turn the heat up.

It was after a week or so of being there that the jokes started back up. You'd reference the "good girl" part of it the most, but occasionally you'd mix it up and go for a "just like this, right Rick?"

Each little remark, every time your smug smile rose on your lips, the way you pranced around the community as if you knew a dirty little secret; it all compounded, a new stone being thrown at the glass that housed Rick's resolve.

Tonight he can't sleep. Everyone else in your group is passed out, exhausted from a long day. But he's wide awake. He feels restless. He shifts around on the sofa and sighs, rubbing his eyes.

Since joining Alexandria, everyone had begun easing up about sleeping arrangements. The first week, you all piled into one house and slept around the living room as if it was one of the sheds you'd been bouncing between before. But after some time went by, people began to spread out.

Everyone had basically claimed a house as their own by now, some sharing their's with a few other group members. Rick kept the one everyone had started off in. Carl and Judith slept peacefully in bedrooms of their own upstairs while he took the couch. Even though this place seemed like a paradise, he couldn't bring himself to trust it yet. He couldn't sleep in the master bedroom that was tucked away in the back of the second floor. It was the farthest from the stairs and all the doors. He'd never forgive himself if something happened and he wasn't in the position to protect his children.

Though they weren't the only ones in the house with him now. Peering down the hallway in front of him, he could see you. Despite how much you loved acting tough and teasing, underneath you were still vulnerable, and Rick wasn't blind to how you looked to him for comfort. When you came to him in the evening and asked to stay as everyone was heading off to their own beds, he couldn't say no. You could make all the bratty jokes and innuendos in the world, and he still couldn't stomach the thought of you feeling unsafe.

You were still sleeping on the floor against the wall. As much as you had missed your bed from the prison, you found yourself not ready to transition back to a mattress again when the time came. Rick understood. It felt weird going from the hard ground where you could spring to action in seconds to a comfy bed that cradled your form and kept you drowsy and unaware. At least in your place in the hall, you slept on some chair cushions he offered you so your body wasn't bare against the hardwood.

He watches you, taking in your sleeping form amidst the quiet of the house. A thin blanket covered most of your body, but he could still admire other parts of you from a distance. He could see the precious way your fingers curled around the edge of the fuzzy material draped over you. Your face looked so soft and delicate in its completely relaxed state. Your cute, plush lips were parted ever so slightly.

As his eyes raked over you, he felt something stir within himself. Instead of hearing your gentle breathing, the sounds his mind had created as you moaning in his dream played through his head. He tries to shake them away and think of other things, but you are all his brain wants to think about. If it's not you moaning or writhing in pleasure beneath him, it's how you giggle after telling one of your stupid jokes. It's the way your eyes widen with amusement when he growls "keep it down."

And if it's not that, earlier memories flicker through his internal vision. He can still remember the day he met you like it was last week. You standing there, bloody and shaking. Your eyes wide and darting around. So different from the you he saw today.

He sits up and scratches his jaw, feeling the skin that was now smooth from his recent shave. He still couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You had rolled over now, taking some of the blanket with you. He could see slivers of your legs and the roundness of your ass peeking from below the border of the blanket. Sighing, he leans back into the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose.

He had it bad for you, and he knew it. He just didn't like thinking about that fact or being cognizant of how pathetic he could be for you. Like having a wet dream. He hadn't had one of those in well over a decade before this last time. It was ridiculous.

It wasn't so much that he thought you didn't reciprocate. You were all but a petulant schoolgirl pulling her crush's hair for attention. Rather it was just that you were quite a bit younger than him, and it made him feel like shit. He supposed it didn't matter, being the end of the world and all. Things weren't the same as they used to be. It was a miracle to find anyone you could feel this way about now. But that didn't stop guilt from tying his intestines into knots every time he imagined anything more with you.

You didn't ease that feeling by toying with him so much either. Day in and day out, you practically begged for more out loud every time he came around you. His mind swirls with all the instances of your temptation, and in this moment, he really starts to feel that his guilt is unnecessary. It would probably return in full force tomorrow, but for right now, while he thinks of all the things you put him through, he feels like he deserves a little something for his troubles.

He stands up, and finds himself walking towards the area you sleep at the end of the hall. Any other man left in this world would have staked their claim on you by now. A pretty girl flagrantly throwing herself at the object of her affection. His honor held him back, but it wasn't like this was something so serious, right? Didn't he deserve to let go once in a while?

He crouches down next to you. At first, he only stares, but soon enough his hand follows. It starts on your shoulder, rubbing in a small circle. His palm then slides up and down your side. He can feel your muscles molding to his touch. Your body recognizes your need for him even when unconscious.

He maneuvers himself closer to you, sliding behind you on the cushions so that his chest is against your back. His hand stays on your body, continuing its slow, rhythmic movements. He keeps it over your shirt at first before slipping it beneath, exploring the skin of your midriff.

You let out a little sigh and shift a bit in your sleep. You still don't wake up though. He nestles his face against the back of your neck, taking a breath of your scent. He imagines what would happen if you woke up right now. He's positive you'd be startled, but he'd bet his life you wouldn't push him away.

He'd only ever been this close to you one time before. It was a couple days after the prison fell. Like right now, it was also at night. It wasn't sensual like he was trying to make this moment though. That time you'd had a nightmare. You woke up in tears, shivering in the pitch black of the random house you were shacked up in with him and Carl. It hadn't taken any words. He knew what you needed. He held you close like right now until you'd returned to the safe embrace of sleep. Unlike his wet dream, the two of you had never spoken about that since.

Testing the waters, his fingers dip below the hem of your shorts. They glide over your hip bone, pressing a tender massage into the skin. You like that. He can tell from the way you lean into it. You roll onto your back to be closer to him.

He really goes for it now. His hand slides to the front of you to cup your sex over your panties. He positions his face in the crook of your neck and lays a few soft pecks on your throat. His digits then start to move slowly.

They caress your pussy over the soft fabric shielding it from his raw touch. But even with the thin barrier, he can tell you feel the sparks of pleasure. Your hips wiggle a little bit. Your mind can't discern what exactly the sensation is right now. All you know is that it's starting to disturb your slumber.

You whine, the tender noise garbled and half-hearted.

"Shh-shh, sweet girl," he coos in your ear.

Upon hearing his voice, he sees your eyelids twitch as if they want to open. His middle finger slots itself between your lips and strokes with more precision. He can feel slick starting to soak through the garment. You whimper again. There's still a chance this could go so wrong, but that's part of what has his blood pumping down South to his building erection.

Your thighs part, your subconscious desire shining through. He chuckles against your neck and swirls the pad of his finger over your little bud.

"There you go. Let me in, honey," he praises.

Him speaking again is what finally draws you back into the waking world. Your eyes crack open. You're confused by what's happening; the warmth to your left side, the tingling between your legs, the raspy voice in your ears.

The moment reality clicks in your head is visible to Rick. Your eyes widen, as much as they can while your lashes are still heavy with drowsiness. Your head turns to connect your gaze with him. As he expected, the situation was jarring to you but not in a way that was completely bad. His movements slow, but they don't come to a full stop.

"Rick, what are you-"

He cuts you off by leaning in and putting his lips on yours. It felt different than you'd imagined. You'd become so used to seeing him with a beard that your daydreams always had his kisses feeling scratchy. You didn't update your ideas when he'd shaven clean. There's no scratch at all now. Nothing but his lips on yours.

His heart pounds violently within his ribcage. He pulls back, ready for your final verdict. He feels your thighs squeezing around his wrist.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice soft and hazy like you had asked if you were still dreaming.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he responds, "I'm givin' you what you want." 

"Are you sure it's not what you want?" you ask.

Of course you'd still try to tease. Even when he so clearly had the upper hand.

"Oh I'm sure. You're not a mystery, sweetheart," he says quietly. He pauses for a moment but decides to to continue. "It took me having a wet dream for you to figure out you might have a chance, but I've known you've wanted me for a long time now just from how you look at me. Like you have little hearts in your eyes."

You bite your lip, both to suppress the moan bubbling in your esophagus and out of an embarrassment at how dead on he was. His finger works at you faster, sliding around in your arousal as he nips at your earlobe.

"You may as well have written 'fuck me' across your forehead, babydoll. Would've given me the same impression," he whispers.

You whine, and god, he can't get enough of how it feels to be the one teasing. For once, he's doling out the humiliation to you. You're the one with the shame boiling in your tummy and heat melting rational thought away in your brain. Your hips start to rock against his hand.

"Was this what your dream was about?" you whimper.

"No," he answers, smiling at your whiny tone, "That night you caught me I was dreaming about you sucking me off."

The mere suggestion makes your back arch and shaky breath exit your lungs. Once you're settled on the cushions again, Rick resumes filling in the details you hadn't been privy to.

"That's what got me. You were on your knees, looking up at me with those sweet eyes, pretty mouth full of cock. You were moanin', droolin' on it. You just couldn't get enough," he recalls as if talking about a memory, "I bet you love having a dick in your mouth, don't you? Lips like those were made for it."

You mewl again before nodding weakly. "I would've done it for you if you asked."

"I'm sure you would have," he smirks.

He leans in to give you more kisses as his fingers keep playing with your pussy. You keep rolling yourself into the touches. He's guessing you're getting close from the way your pace is picking up. He pulls back for a small break to catch his breath.

"Isn't this so much more fun when you're not being such a smartass?" he teases.

You pout at him as a reply. Your bottom lip wobbles as you struggle to maintain the expression. It was hard pretending to be upset when he was giving you everything you wanted.

"Don't look at me like that," he chuckles, "You're still a sweet girl. You just need the brattiness fucked out of you sometimes."

That wipes the pout away clean. Your lips part as you let out a tiny moan.

"Good girl," he croons.

But despite his praise, only a few moments later, he retracts his hand from your panties. You whine, and your eyes look up at him with a desperate urgency. He couldn't leave you like this. It would be deserved revenge for all your antics. 

"Nuh uh, none of that," he murmurs as his hand goes to push down his sweats instead, "So spoiled, and I haven't even started with you yet."

You quiet down, just relieved he's not leaving. You boost your hips to push your shorts and underwear down. He watches with satisfied eyes at your attempt to match him.

"I want you cummin' on my cock before anything else, sweet thing. Think you can do that for me?"

"Mhm," you hum softly.

Your stomach flutters and your clit throbs when his cock is finally in view. Just seeing it makes your mouth water. It's hard all for you, angry veins spanning down the shaft to the swollen head. You reach for it, but he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

"You don't get to touch it just yet. It's going inside you first. Then if you're good, I might let you play with it later," he says. 

In truth, this was the first bit of action Rick was getting in a while. Under no circumstances would he give you more ammunition for jokes by blowing his load from a handjob and then not getting it back up to fuck you proper.

You kick your bottoms all the way off as he rolls on top of you. He gives himself a few strokes of preparation before swiping his tip through your folds. A groan vibrates in his chest as the feeling of the warm, sticky fluid coating him. He lines himself up and sinks in. His hands move to the back of your knees, pushing your legs up to either side of your abdomen.

"Fuck, baby. You're tight," he grunts as he works himself between your walls.

You nod simply, still adjusting to the feeling of him stretching you out. Your walls flutter around him as if happy to finally have what you'd been craving for what feels like forever. He grunts again and tightens his grip on your legs.

A little bit more, and he's all the way in. He takes a moment to just feel it, your warm, wet, cunt sucking him in, embracing him like it was made to be his.

His forehead drops to press against yours as he begins to move. He thrusts at a moderate pace, but he makes sure to strike deep every time. Both of you are taking care to be somewhat quiet since it was the dead of night, but the sensations are strong with or without the noise.

"This what you been wantin', dolly?'” he breathes as the skin of his pelvis connects with your ass.

"Yeah, been wanting it everyday," you whimper, "I was hoping you'd have another dream."

"Oh yeah?" he asks, chuckling lowly between pants, "And you'd have been ready to help me out if it happened again, right?"

"Yeah. I needed it so bad. You don't understand," you whine. One of your hands rises up and tugs on his brown curls.

That draws a growl from him and makes him fuck into you harder.

"I do understand, pretty girl. Every time you ran that cute little mouth, I wanted to bend you over, spank that sweet cunt raw and then fuck it full," he mumbles.

Your eyes screw shut at the image he puts in your head. Your arms wrap around his neck and keep him close as can be. His hips rut into you with passion you'd never felt from anyone else before.

"That's all I wanted," you whine, clamping down around his length.

"You're gonna get it right now," he says and pounds against your hips harder.

They had morning after pills here. He'd seen a few packs in the infirmary. Cumming inside you one time would be fine. That's what his lust-driven mind told him anyways. He'd make sure to get some condoms before next time, because there would be a next time.

You wrap your legs around him and squeeze. He lets out a moan himself and slides his head over to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"Fuck, baby. You ready?" he asks.

You nod eagerly as you approach the edge yourself. You slide one hand down to your clit, giving it a few strokes to make sure you could get there with him.

His nails dig into the flesh of your hips when he cums. His jaw clenches, and he grits his teeth, using everything in him to stay quiet. And you cum seconds later. The way you pulse around him milks him dry. He spurts rope after rope of pent up release into your wanting cunt.

You tremble and whimper beneath him, your eyes unable to decide if they wanna roll back or close tight. He gently rocks his hips against you the whole time until you're both sated. Once both of your bodies are ready to give out, he pulls out of you. He drops back onto his side like he had been before and puts himself back together.

You reach down and pull your clothes back into place. He wasn't sure what was gonna happen next until you turned to look at him. Once he has a look at your expression, he can see the part of you that loves to rile him up and tease is gone right now. The vulnerable one that lurks beneath the surface has the reins right now. 

You curl up to his chest. You wanna cuddle and kiss as you come down, and he gives you that. He gives it to you until you drift off to sleep again. He's not far behind you. You'd tired him out enough that he felt he could pass out too.

He scoops you up and brings you back to the couch with him, imagining this would look better than the both of you crumpled up on the floor together in a pile of disheveled blankets. Having you tucked to his side like this was all he needed right now. He'd done more than let go tonight. He was letting you in.

But those were thoughts for tomorrow. Right now, he's content to doze off with you into a dreamless sleep. There was no need for dreams now that he had the real thing in his arms.

Tiffany Haddish Reylo Shipping

THE WAY HER LOOKS AT HER AAAAAA

Hi, I absolutely love your stories! And I love to think about Arthur Fleck being a virgin❤May I request a story about the first time having sex with Arthur, being his first time, but the reader's very experienced. And like he asking if she has done this before, she says yes and asks the same to him, to what he says no, she kinda guides him at first because of his nervousness, but then he looses control & it turns cute , hot but goofy . Sorry i talk a lot😂i have this idea in ny head , help!

Of course you can darling, I adore this kind of content and I'll get on it soon ❤