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clownyclaushoe · 3 days ago

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art the clown x reader 🔞 | i taste blood and it's turned into an obsession series

part four | drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart

art visits reader's apartment for first time. reader rides art, with some knifeplay, minor (?) gore and brief cunniligus cause art can't get enough of reader's pussy 🥺 brief mention of cannibalism, but it doesn't actually occur, aside from some blood tasting. chapter title from howl by florence + the machine. so it seems there *might* be more chapters as i have a few ideas of what would happen next but tbh i don't know exactly where this will go 😅 except that it's likely to get darker and more twisted 👀

one | two | three

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you had fallen into a kind of domesticity with art, or as much as one could have with a murderous demon clown. though you rarely were one for conventionality, and art certainly was the most unconventional being you'd ever met. one morning you had woken to art licking away the drool from the corner of your mouth, something you'd been embarrassed of in the past, especially if you were sharing the bed with someone; all the while art's mouth was spread with his signature grin, but there was a softness to his expression that made your heart swell. he appeared like an adoring puppy, too excited not to wake their owner with loving kisses. when you had met art you recalled a similar brief vulnerability, and after getting to know him better it seemed you were the only person to make him feel safe enough to be vulnerable.

the miles county demon clown needing safety? you had snickered at the thought, bringing your hands to art's gaunt face. art looked at you curiously, wondering what was funny. he could communicate so much with just a look, by the twinkle of his eyes or the tilt of his head.

you shook your head, pulling him in for a kiss, and soon all thought was pushed aside, in exchange for wanting and needing and consuming and being consumed. the truth was you were long consumed by your feelings for art, and you had decided soon after you met that there was little you wouldn't do to make him happy.

art seemed to feel similarly, having made changes to his hideout to make your stays there more comfortable, including getting a massive bed and converting a corner into a kitchenette of sorts. he had allowed you to bring your own decorative touches to the space. something that meant a great deal when art was so particular about keeping his possessions a certain way within his own organized chaos.

tonight's plan was for you both to leave the clandestine safety of his lair for art to visit your apartment for the first time. you had wanted him to for months but never expressed it, for fear that he wouldn't be interested. a shiver of anticipation and anxiety passed through you, and suddenly you feared he would think it too mundane, too boring, too human.

you were grateful the walk to your building wasn't far, as your heartbeat intensified with each step you drew closer, so persistent you were certain art could hear it, could feel the hot pulse of blood thrumming through your heart.

art took your hand in his, entwining your fingers together. you exhaled, the small but meaningful gesture making you relax a little. he held your hand until you reached the doorstep of your apartment, allowing you to unlock the door and step inside, biting back the instinct to apologize for the messiness of the space, considering he's a creature that revels in filth and his own bodily functions, as well as yours.

you watched intently as he slowly walked inside, as if taking in every detail, while tilting his head curiously. art's attention suddenly zeroed in on your kitchen, shuffling his feet quicker to reach his desired destination to stand before the knife block sitting on your counter.

unsurprisingly, he grabs the large chef's knife, his thumb tracing over the blade. he looks at you, grinning, his brows raised; he's shaking with anticipation for whatever plan he has in store for you, his chest heaving at the thought.

he suddenly steps to you, grabbing your arm and leading you in the direction of your bedroom, sitting you both on your large bed.

he kisses you, and your lips part for him, his tongue scouring inside your mouth, his large free hand moving over your body. although you'd been fucked by art for the first time only a week ago, you'd lost count of how many times you'd fornicated since - you were insatiable for each other - but no matter how many times art kissed, touched, and screwed you, everything about him made you feel weak, the feeling of being completely filled by his long, thick cock making you gasp each time.

you swooned, having to brace yourself on the bed, delicate moans and whines leaving your throat while his strong fingers pressed against the crotch of your leggings, feeling the wetness through the thin cotton, so good but not enough at the same time.

you groan his name, noticing his erection bulging obscenely, and your fingers wrap around what you could, stroking along his fully hardened cock pressing against the tight confines of his clown costume.

art's mouth forms a suprised O then a grin, wiggling his brows and you laugh, your heart shuddering in its beat. you love him more than you've ever loved anyone or anything. you'd sacrifice yourself for his happiness.

art quickly removes your clothes, practically tearing them away to reveal a lowcut black lace bodysuit. he grins, trailing his hand over the soft material, to stop at your hip.

"i wanted tonight to be special, baby."

art nods, wagging his finger enthusiastically as if reminded of something. he takes off his hat and clown cowl, something he rarely ever did, whatever he has planned must be something significant. he moves to lie on the bed, offering you the knife, taking hold of your hand to guide the blade up to press at his neck, a gleeful twinkle in his eyes.

"fuck, i wanna ride you, baby." you exhale out. it was always one of your favorite positions, and the previous time you'd done it with art on the dirty concrete floor of his lair, he seemed just as partial to it. "do you want that?" your fingers tease over his cock, touch now much gentler. art tilted his head, raising his brows and widening his eyes, gaze moving over your body. "take off your costume."

art shook his head, emphatically shaking your hand still gripping the knife.

you take the knife, shifting down to straddle art's thighs, and cut the fabric at the crotch, careful not to nick his cock. though you know art would love if you rode his bleeding dick.

once his erection is free, you slap it few times. art gapes as he looks up at you, obviously loving the slight abuse on his painfully hard cock.

"your big, fat, dumb clown cock wants my sweet pussy to milk every drop of cum, hmm?" you slap it a little harder. "answer me."

art licks his lips, his dark eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room. he leans up from to bed, taking hold of your hips to drag you over his cock, hoping you'd take the hint now. his jaw drops as the full weight of you presses down on him. you move your hips forward and back as much as his strong hold on your hips will allow. you pause to pull the fabric aside, your bare wet pussy rubbing against his throbbing cock.

after a few ministrations, art looks up at you indignantly, and you finally decide to put both of you out of your misery. you grab his dick, stroking a few times before lowering yourself onto it, the stretch of him filling you a shock to your senses, already sending sparks of pleasure throughout you.

you brace yourself on art's chest as you pause momentarily with him fully inside you, brokenly moaning his name. art insistently points at the knife still in your other hand, and you remember art's silence request earlier. you press the blade at his throat as you start to move, careful not to press too close, and you have to remind yourself he's immortal, impervious to injury. even after witnessing a handful of would-be fatal injuries to art that healed on their own, you had insisted on tending to and dressing his wounds, emblematic of your nurturing side.

art was amused you'd go to the trouble, and you explained that people do acts like this to show they care, stopping yourself from calling it an act of love.

though you liked rough and kinky sex, sometimes venturing to light bdsm, it had never crossed over into knifeplay, and you never would've considered doing this with previous boyfriends or hookups - you would've been too worried it would go wrong.

art sensed your hesitation, leaning slightly against the blade until it cut the skin, a gash of red staining the steel. art's mouth parts with a silent moan, and your pussy throbs at the sight of art's pleasure.

he grips your hips to help you bounce on his cock, all the while you keep the knife at art's neck, one time your hand slipping and slicing so deep that blood trickles from the wound, staining your black silk sheets even darker. at that, art grins up at you, his cock throbbing even harder inside you, as if the blood pulsing in his cock mirrors the blood quickly pumping from his wound - intensified by it even - so that you could feel the vibrations all through your pussy, against your pulsing clit. you nearly scream at the sudden pleasure this creature is giving you, beyond anything you've ever felt.

art pulls the lace barely covering your tits aside, the instant they are bare, his hands are cupping and squeezing them together. you continued bouncing on his dick, slamming down with such force the metal bedframe bangs against the wall. you couldn't care less if your neighbors complain about the noise, not when you're about to have the most earth-shaking, back-breaking orgasm of your life.

you come, squirting on art's cock, your hand jerks with the sudden blunt force, gouging out a chunk of skin from his throat, and the blood comes quicker, some of it spurting hotly on your hand as he suddenly comes inside you. you moan in ecstasy at the heat of his cum once again filling you, knowing you had pleasured him adding to your own bliss.

the knife slipped from your grip, falling into the pillow beside art's head, before sliding onto the sheets. you arched your back, baring down completely, riding out your climax. art wrapped his arms around you, leaning his head up to latch his mouth on your tits, suckling and nibbling both at your nipples, in turn.

when you both come down from your respective highs, you climb off of art, lying beside him. he doesn't spare a moment before shifting down to settle between your legs, bringing his hand to his neck, gathering blood on his fingertips. you'd expected he'd fingerfuck you with the bloodied digits, but they trace along the skin of your lower torso, writing "ART WAS HERE", as if claiming you, but he'd already claimed you before he'd even touched you.

he smirks up at you from between your thighs, and you swear you're getting wet again at the sight; at a loss for how this filthy, demented clown could be so damn hot.

his cum is leaking out of you, and you dazedly think of how you've never used condoms with art, though it would've been futile with his already large cock's seeming ability to grow to a near monstrous size. perhaps another instance of his supernatural capabilities.

you remembered the first time art fucked you, and how you had begged him to breed you with his demon-baby, wondering if it were even possible to create a human demon hybrid baby, a living embodiment of your love. you'd never had genuine interest in having kids, but your heart swells at the thought of art knocking you up, of claiming your womb.

art leans in and nibbles on your pussy lips, hard enough to send a spark through you, but gently enough not to pierce the skin. he presses closer, noisily licking and sucking your mixed cum away from your pussy, wet smearing all over his nose, mouth and chin; hungry and ravenous in a way that only seems to happen when he's eating your cunt.

the thought of art literally eating your pussy enters your mind, aware of his cannibalistic urges - the idea of offering part of yourself to him in that way makes your gut twist, turning you on almost as much as his tongue now plunging into your pussy.

"ohh, art," you whimper softly. he strokes his dick, jerking off quickly as he continues to eat you out, and when he's close he sits back on his haunches. his face contorting as he comes on your stomach, cum splattering and mixing with the blood traced there.

you grip the pillow as you come again, so drained, but so very satisfied. at takes you a few moments to realize there's blood on your fingers - you're bleeding - you must've nicked them on the knife still lying somewhere amongst the pillows. you offer your hand to art, and grins wide-mouthed, grabbing it at the wrist, bringing it up to taste your blood, sucking at your fingers. your pulse quickens in the way that doing something you shouldn't could only provide.

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plesse like, reblog and/or comment, i'd really appreciate it. hope you enjoyed!

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