: IMAGINE : When Arthur meets his most favourite actress (y/n) it's like a dream come true for him and then some. But your meeting is only the beginning. This was requested by Avengerssoulmate whom I'd like to thank for asking me to write this
⚠️ warning: will contain mild smut in part 5.
--1st person POV--
8:45pm
Arthur was sitting on the packed bus and had been for the past hour.
He hated Wednesdays, but this Wednesday in particular was turning out to be even worse than usual.
Every Wednesday he had to attend a meeting with his social worker. He resented having to travel across town during early morning rush hour to make the 10:30am appointment, then be kept waiting in the reception area for twenty minutes, only to be asked the same series of questions. It never made him feel better, if anything it only made his anxiety worse.
Then when the thirty minute session was over he had to go straight to work and face another day of ridicule, mockery, or worse.
Due to a current rail strike he'd been forced to take the bus today which had been incredibly stressful. He'd had a rough day at work, having been chewed-out by Hoyt, then gone straight on to the hospital to visit his mom, who's health had taken a recent downturn.
And now? Now he was stuck in a traffic jam, on a stuffy bus with lots of fractious commuters who weren't able to catch their usual train.
"The fuck is with this traffic at this time of night?"
Arthur overheard the man in front say aloud, as if to himself.
"Oh, they're filming some movie up on 180first, so most the roads have been closed off." A 2nd man explained. "Didn't you see it on the news?"
Arthur didn't hear any more of the conversation. His attention had been piqued by such an unexpected revelation.
They were making a movie in Gotham?
Why?
That seemed like such a highly unlikely scenario. Gotham was so grim and bleak. Why would anyone in their right mind want to shoot a movie in this city?
Deciding he'd make it home quicker on foot, he cut his losses and got off the bus, toting his bag of clothes with him.
Other than his shoes, he hadn't even bothered changing out of his clown get-up.
Trudging along the dimly lit streets he walked passed the mountains of garbage piled up at the roadside, keeping his head down and not making eye contact with any of the rowdy drunks, or shady-looking characters he encountered along the way.
The last thing he needed was trouble. He was too weary to take another physical beating after the day he'd had.
Unfortunately for him though his clown costume was a magnet for trouble. It seemed to attract every little punk and grown thug within a 50 mile radius.
"Nice costume, prick!"
He suddenly heard from behind him. He didn't dare turn around. Just kept his head down and quickened his pace a little.
"Hey asshole, I'm talking to you." The voice came again.
Arthur walked a little faster.
"You deaf, numbnuts? Or is that dumb wig covering your ears?" A second heckler joined in.
Arthur's heart sank. When there was more than one he was bound to get jumped.
Hearing the shuffling of rapidly-approaching footsteps he sprung forwards and broke into a run, surprising himself. His survival instinct overrode his tiredness, somehow finding the will and the energy to flee his pursuers.
Thank god he'd changed his shoes. Those clown shoes just weren't practical when it came to running for your life.
His heart was pounding frantically as he raced along the sidewalk in a blind panic, then into the road. Car horns honked at him as he haphazardly weaved between them but he paid them no attention.
Finally he reached the staircase that led up to the street where he lived. All he had to do was make sure he beat his harassers to the top, then he'd be in with a chance of making it to safety.
Never before had those 130 steps felt so gruelling, as he took them two at a time in his frantic bid to outrun the potential attackers.
His chest heaved, the cold night air hitting his lungs painfully as he panted for breath, and the muscles in his legs felt like they were turning to jello.
As he neared the top he noticed a sort of barricade had been erected across the stairs in an attempt to block the way. It was a simple makeshift metal gate, which ordinarily would've prevented him from passing.
But with the echoing shouts and the pounding footsteps trailing behind him, there was no way he was going to risk turning around or stopping.
Instead he threw his bag over the gate, made sure he had a secure grip on the top then vaulted himself over.
Stumbling a little, he grabbed his bag and set off running again, only to come skidding to an abrupt halt when he found himself blinded by bright overhead lights.
"Cut!"
Someone shouted, followed by collective groans and another angry voice.
Arthur shielded his eyes with his arm, blinking rapidly while his pupils adjusted to the unnatural brightness.
"What the hell's going on here? Somebody get this damn clown off my set!" An agitated voice came from the other side of the street.
Arthur was standing in the middle of the road but there was no moving traffic. He could see now that the road was barricaded off at one end, at the other a mass of people, and various trailers, as if a travelling show had set up camp there.
To say he was confused was putting it mildly. He was still trying to figure out what was going on and he hadn't yet even recovered his breath, and now two burly guys were rushing towards him.
Instinctively he dropped his bag and assumed the defence position, slightly hunching over, tucking his elbows in whilst holding up his arms in an attempt to shield his head.
"Wait, wait!"
Came another voice, this one female and a little panic-stricken.
The two huge men slowed to a stop, turning to look at you as you came jogging up behind them.
And Arthur wasn't the only one who couldn't believe his eyes.
You wasn't sure if this was some kind of joke, a clown running onto the set of the movie you were filming, ruining the scene.
But something about his mannerisms and demeanour alarmed you.
He looked genuinely terrified when security ran over to remove him.
"Miss (y/l/n), don't approach him. He could be dangerous." One of the security men warned, but you ignored him.
The clown seemed so harmless.
As you reached Arthur his eyes went so wide he reminded you of a cartoon character.
"It's okay you don't have to worry about these guys." You gestured to security behind you. "They're not as scary as they look. They were just going to escort you off set."
Arthur blinked at you. "I....I know you! You're (y/f/n) (y/l/n)!"
You smiled pleasantly, ever the professional. "Yes it's me."
Self-consciously Arthur quickly pulled his wig cap off, and nervously raked his fingers through his mop of brown hair. "I'm a big fan." He flashed a megawatt smile. "Y-you're like my...my favourite actress in the world."
He looked and sounded so sincere it warmed you. "Thank you, that's really kind."
"Hey (y/n)!" Glen Stevenson, the director, called out, sounding even more agitated than before. "When you've finished your little meet and greet, we're trying to make a movie here!"
You nodded, sighing a little. "Sorry Glen--"
"Save it. I need a coffee anyways. Right everybody, let's all take five!"
Other members of the cast and crew began heading toward the catering van, but the security guys still loitered nearby, keeping a careful eye on Arthur.
Arthur fought hard to suppress his laughter by clamping a hand over his mouth but to his utter mortification he couldn't prevent it.
You frowned at him, confused and alarmed by his sudden outburst, trying to figure out what might have set him off.
Maybe it was nerves, you reasoned with yourself. It could be nervous laughter brought on by him meeting you, seeing how he claimed to be such a fan. It was hard to tell, everyone reacted so differently.
Arthur desperately fumbled in his pockets, then pulled out the laminated card which he handed to you.
"This guy is a nutjob!" One of the security guards remarked, stepping forwards to protect you.
"No he's not!" You told him, speed-reading the card. "He has a medical condition, see?" You showed him the card, then handed it back to Arthur, who was gasping and choking.
"Do you need help? There's a medic on site we can call for?"
He shook his head, as to his relief the laughter was gradually ebbing, but the embarrassment he felt was crippling.
"I'm so sorry. " He rasped, clutching his chest, throat now burning. "It's an anxiety thing."
"No need to apologise." You assured him, placing a hand gently on his arm. "Are you okay?"
Arthur stared down at your hand, unable to believe that you were actually touching him. Him!
Plain old Arthur Fleck.
There was a long pause before he managed to respond. "Uh, yeah. Thanks." He looked around nervously, taking everything in. "I didn't realise that you were...that this was..." He was lost for words. "I...I'm sorry I interrupted your filming."
"Don't worry about it. Is everything okay though? You seemed to be in a hurry when you came running up here."
"Oh, yeah. I was being chased."
"Chased? By who?"
Arthur shrugged. "Some guys."
"Why were they chasing you?"
"Because of the costume." He said sadly. "It happens all the time."
You gave a sympathetic nod of the head. "That's terrible. But if you don't mind me asking, if it happens all the time does that mean you often dress as a clown?"
"Um, well I kinda have to." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "It's my job. I entertain kids, spin signs. That kinda thing."
"Ah, right. That makes sense."
Feeling sorry for him, you wanted to try and do something nice to cheer him up.
"Would you like to stay and watch the filming?" You asked. "This is the last scene of the night. You don't have to but you're welcome to--"
"Yes!" He exclaimed, his eyes visibly brightening. "That would be amazing! Thank you so much!"
"No problem. I'll show you where you can stand. Would you like a coffee or something?"
As you led Arthur over to the line at the catering van, you ignored all the curious looks the rest of the crew were giving you.
Arthur couldn't believe this was really happening. In fact he was starting to worry that maybe he'd drifted into one of his daydreams again.
"So, mysterious clown, if you're sticking around as my guest I better know your name." You giggled. "You already know mine."
"Oh, sure. It's Arthur." He chuckled. "Arthur Fleck."
As he gazed down at you his eyes sparkled in the lights that hung overhead. They were a beautiful shade of green, you noticed, and very piercing.
"It's nice to meet you, Arthur."
***
When Glen was finally satisfied with the final take you almost wanted to cry with relief.
It had been an exhausting and emotionally draining day, with this particular five minute scene alone taking two hours to shoot.
Your co-star had been particularly annoying and Glen was excessively fractious.
An assistant from the wardrobe department handed you a warm coat, which you pulled around you tightly, shivering due to the bracing late night air.
You almost robotically made your way towards your trailer, when suddenly the producers assistant rushed over, reminding you about your 'guest' which came as a bit of a surprise. From where he'd been standing with the other few guests on set, he wouldn't have had much of a view and he certainly wouldn't have been able to hear any of the dialogue. You'd half expected him to grow bored, or be too tired and cold to want to stick around until the end.
But he had, and you noticed him easily amongst the others thanks to his clown costume.
He saw you approaching and smiled, prompting you to smile back at him.
"I'm sorry that must've been so boring for you, Archie."
His face fell. The expression of happiness crumpling into a look of saddened discomfort.
His little clown face looked so cartoonishly tragic that you felt your gut twist a little.
"What's wrong?" You ask, concerned.
"It's Arthur." He said in a small voice.
"Arthur, right! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry."
He gave a weak smile. "It's okay. I'm a forgettable kinda guy."
The twisting of your gut became a full-on knot.
The poor guy. He'd been chased earlier by some random jerks, frightened by security, he'd waited around loyally in the cold when there hadn't even been anything remotely interesting to see, and now you'd gotten his name wrong and hurt his feelings.
"Hey, don't say that. It's just been a crazily long day, Arthur. Please, I didn't mean to--"
"Hey, you don't have to apologise to me." Arthur insisted gallantly, even though he believed that if you'd kicked him in the balls it would've hurt less than you forgetting his name. "Thank you so much for letting me stay. This is the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far. You can hardly see anything from back here."
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I feel so honoured that you gave me the opportunity."
Bless him. Anyone would think you'd offered him the role of the leading man. He was so genuine and grateful, and you found that so refreshing.
Very refreshing.
You didn't really meet that many genuine people anymore. Or grateful ones for that matter.
"Aren't you cold?" You asked, eyeing his thin, colourful, clown jacket.
He shrugged. "It's worth it, being here. Besides I only live right there." He indicated to the apartment building across the road. "I'll be home in like, less than a minute."
"Oh, so you don't have far to go. I was going to offer you a ride. My driver could've dropped you." The words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
Many people accused you of being overly generous, which you knew you were. Or had been in the past with the wrong people. But this guy was different. You felt he deserved a little kindness.
Arthur was stunned by what you'd just said. He was furious with himself for having ruined such an opportunity for himself. It was too late now though. He couldn't exactly say that he lived someplace else just to spend some more time with you.
"Oh, um..." His mind was frantically searching for something to say. "If you're cold...you could always come to my place for some tea?"
Taken aback, for some reason all you could manage to say was, "Tea?"
Wondering if perhaps your initial instincts had been wrong. Was he inviting you to his place hoping for something more? He certainly didn't seem like that sort of guy. But due to your film star status and past experiences, you'd become a little sceptical and paranoid.
"I have coffee too, if you don't like tea." He added earnestly. "I just said tea 'cause that's mostly what I drink. Caffeine doesn't help my insomnia you see."
Feeling relieved as much as you were amused, you couldn't keep from giggling at his sweetness. A lot of women would probably find this awkward, eccentric, naive man too odd to be around. But there was an innocence to him that you found so charming.
He couldn't be more different to the usual type of guys who claimed to be your biggest fan.
Arthur stood waiting with bated breath, not daring to hope that you'd accept his offer, yet he knew if you walked back out of his life right now, he'd forever hate himself for opening his big, fat mouth too soon about where he lived.
But, instead he found himself subtly pinching his own wrist as hard as he could. Checking to make sure he was awake, when you gave a casual shrug of your elegant shoulders, smiled your beautiful smile at him, and uttered the words he'd never imagined to hear...
"Sure, okay then. Why not?"