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lovegalor333 · 28 days ago

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˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

halloween

summary: paige wants to celebrate halloween but it’s your biggest fear and she doesn’t know

content warnings: none!

request by: @melpthatsme (hope this is ok) 🫶

“I’d rather just stay in, Paige. We could carve pumpkins and make hot chocolate.” You try to convince your girlfriend to spend a cosy night in with you but she’s adamant on going out.

“But I bought us tickets to Fright Fest, some of the teams going too, it will be a good night. We can stay home any time but it’s halloween baby, let’s have fun.” She says handing you the red, plastic devil horns she had picked up for you from Target. She had a Ghostface mask, rested on the top of her head and you really hoped she never pulled it down.

“I don’t think it will be that fun.” You grumble, placing the horns on your head and fixing them in the mirror in front of you.

“Do you not like Halloween or something?” Paige asks coming behind you, her slender arms looping around your waist. Her standing at a strong 6’0 and you at just 5’2, you loved the way you looked wrapped in her embrace, you loved the way it felt too, safe and comforting like she could protect you from everything bad in the world.

“Not really…” You trail off, starting to feel bad because you wanted to spend tonight with Paige but the thought of it genuinely terrified you.

“But everyone says this mask is so sexy, don’t you agree?” She asks, pulling the mask down so her face is completely covered and your heart drops as she dips her head closer to your ear, “What’s your favourite scary movie?” She quotes Scream, her voice low and husky and you shiver and the feeling of her breath on your neck.

“Paige please…don’t do that.” You beg, eyes refusing to look at your reflection and slipping out of her grasp.

“Wait- oh baby, are you scared?” She asks, her voice muffled from the plastic covering her mouth.

“Can you just take that off.” You say still unable to look at your masked girlfriend and she obeys, pushing the mask back on top of her head, revealing her perfectly structured face.

“For real, are you actually scared?” She asks again pulling you back to your previous position in front of her, but this time you’re facing each other.

“No, I’m not scared Paige. I’m petrified. It’s a full on phobia, masks, clowns, haunted houses, anything spooky.” You finally admit, slightly embarrassed at such a childish fear.

“Oh, Y/N, I really didn’t know.” She says hugging you to her chest.

“It’s my brothers fault,” You explain, “He used to force me to watch scary movies and then he’d sneak into my room in the middle of the night to scare me.”

“Your brothers a jerk.” Paige responds, pushing you away from her so she can look into your eyes, “You know you’re safe with me right? I’d never let anything happen to you.” She tells, holding your face in her hands.

“I know.” You nod, “I’m just being a baby.”

“My baby though and I’ll protect you.” She coos, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of her lips.

After Paiges kind words of encouragement, you finally agree to go to Fright Fest, clad in your devil horns and red dress, your hand safely interlocked with Paiges, you walk towards the fest that was taking place in a huge field.

It was a dark and misty night which only added to the eerie vibes and the inhuman sounds that played out over the speakers made your hairs stand on end.

As you waited in line for the haunted house, you couldn’t help the anxiety that overwhelmed you, your hand was clammy in Paiges so you let go to wipe it on your dress.

“You OK, my love?” Paige questions, her hand coming to rest on your back.

“Uh huh.” You nod, trying your best to not think about what was going on around you.

Paiges teammates, Azzi and Caroline were in front of you, KK and Ice behind you and they all cheered as your group was guided to the entrance of the house. There was a sign above the opening that read Do Not Enter in red, dripping paint made to look like blood and you gulped at the sight of it. Excited screams erupted from inside the house, people were having fun but this was your idea of hell.

Your hand finds Paiges as you begin the walk around and for the first few seconds you keep your eyes screwed shut in fear, trusting your girlfriend will guide you.

You tell yourself to be brave and open your eyes and when you do, you’re met with flashing lights and mist, cobwebs are dangling from the ceiling and warped mirrors on the walls reflect the sinister portraits opposite, ripped sheets and drapes cover the windows and the floor creaks with every step you take and you cringe at the sound.

Azzi and Caroline walk around a corner going out if sight and you feel exposed without them standing in front of you so you nuzzle yourself closer into Paige.

As you turn the corner, expecting to see the girls, you’re met with two dark figures at either side of the hallway, they’re scarily still and in the darkness of the house, you can’t make out a single feature on their faces. You freeze, not wanting to proceed but Paige wraps an arm around and pulls you closer to her, “I’m here. It’s OK.” She comforts and leads you down the hall, as you pass the figures, one reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder and you let out a scream loud enough to wake the dead.

You feel Paige laugh from beside and you nudge her with your elbow, “This is not funny.” You whisper shout and decide it’s best if you do keep your eyes closed for the remainder of your time in the haunted house.

“Was that so bad?” KK asks once you’re all safe at the exit and your heart rate had steadied.

“Yes actually, I hated it. Definitely having nightmares tonight.” You tell the group and they laugh but you’re being serious.

“Let’s get churros!” Caroline suggests and you nod in agreement, at least that’s something you’ll enjoy tonight.

“Or are they too scary, Y/N?” Ice jokes in a creepy voice from behind you.

“Y’all leave my girl alone, quit the teasing.” Paige defends you and Ice mummbles an apology.

While you’re in line at the churros stand, Paige plays with strands of your hand, twirling them around her fingers and letting them fall again, “Will you really have nightmares tonight?” She asks softly.

“Yeah probably.” You respond biting your lip in anticipation of your sleepless night.

“Stay with me.” She says gently, her hands still fiddling with your hair.

“God this is so embarrassing.” You mutter.

“It’s not embarrassing, it’s cute actually and my duty as your girlfriend is to make you feel safe and protected, stay with me tonight so I can do that.” Paige requested and you nod in agreement, “OK, I’ll stay but if I wake you up screaming, it’s your fault for bringing me here.” You joke and she smiles, her hands falling to your hips, guiding you closer to her, “Don’t worry about it, besides it wouldn’t be the first time you were screaming in my bed, would it?” She whispered into your ear and you giggled, pushing her away in jest.

“Relax, we’re in public.”

“And you’re in a tight red dress and devil horns, I can’t help myself.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: all im saying is paige dressed as ghostface would make me scream, minus the s 🙂‍↕️ happy halloween! 💋

#paige bueckers #wlw #lgbtq #oneshot #paige x reader #uconn wbb #wcbb #blurb #paige bueckers imagine #fanfic #lesbian

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anadiasmount · 2 months ago

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night in - jb blurb.

warm bubble feeling burns your chest as you feel jude place a kiss on your temple, sitting right next to you on the floor, placing your hot drink next to his. “you’re having way to much fun on this,” he teased, resting his chin on your shoulder, while looking at you intently as you finished the second bag of the moana’s flowerpot legos.

“i fear i’m having way too much fun,” you joke back, clicking and connecting the small lego. “you realize these are made for nine year olds right?” he pushed further, helping you separate the legos in piles so you could find the legos easier. “so? i don’t complain when you play fifa at your grown age? screaming like a little girl when you unpack a player?” you defend watching jude open his mouth in shock, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

“i’m glad we stayed in. i haven’t seen you much lately and i didn’t want to have just dinner and the call if a night. i love these little moments with you, d’you know? our playlist playing in the back, some baking, maybe cooking? but definitely how i have you all to myself…” jude says, his hand running up and down your spine, making you spin and face him directly where you brush a tamed curl back to already done hair.

“sounds like you just want to keep me for yourself?” you say watching how jude is ready to explain and yap but you cut him off quickly. “i’m kidding. i love staying in dates. especially around this time of your when your season is beginning to get hectic. believe it or not these dates have so much more meanings to when we’re out. i get to see a side of you only i can experience and see, and im so incredibly grateful for that. for you,” you smile leaning into his side where jude shyly looks down.

“don’t get shy with me mister.”

“oh like how you get shy after we-”

“okay so that’s like completely different?” you laugh dismissing the idea that was brewing in his head. “also i get to play house when i’m here. look at this place! the kitchen? the pool? the garden? the garden is my favorite we’ve grown so much in just under a year!” you say excitedly, giving up on the lego set, as now all you wanted was to be next with jude. to feel his safe embrace, his scent, to feel the comfort only he can give.

“those damn bunnies ruined it at first, i swear i was going to insane. i just know they were doing it on purpose after one stared me down as it ate the cherry tomatoes!” jude reclaimed, leaning back against the couch, bringing you to his lap where he traced your bracelet and the tiny tattoo on your thigh. the one of many you had, but this one was jude’s favorite. you didn’t have to tell him, but he could tell it was meant for him.

“to be fair you tormented that poor thing,” you recalled, thinking of the endless possibilities jude did so he could get rid of the bunnies in a happy manner. “it got what it deserved,” jude shrugged, taking a sip of mug, offering one of the infamous pumpkin pilsbury cookies to you.

“what else is on your fall bucket list?”

“we’ve done mostly all besides watching scary movies, visit a pumpkin patch and get a couples costume for trent’s party soon. besides that we’ve knocked everything else out,” you say cheery, the sense of joy never leaving you, knowing you were able to cross off and completely those wishes. “what has been your favorite activity yet?” he asked, tugging on a tiny string from your knitted sweater.

“probably decorating your house for the fall, since it was way to white… that or when we painted the pumpkins with the little kids,” you spoke softy and gently. watching jude’s eyes crinkle from paying attention to remembering the beautiful memory. “i really enjoyed that too, but nothing could beat fright fest,” jude laugh making you shake your head rapidly. t

“jude! i still haven’t forgave you for that! you take us to apparently a theme park and then walking in, there’s horror everywhere. especially those damn clowns…” you say, a tint of nervousness as you spoke out loud. “but i made it up to you,” he pouts, leaning up and pulling your face closer to his. “i won you a plenty stuffed animals and went downstairs for a week to get a glass of water. i was your protector.”

“you always are,” you hug him, your fingers grazing and tracing his ears down to his. “the beard has grown on me. you look very manly,” you say, his hairs tickling your palm. “i was thinking about shaving it soon,” he says, feeling completely relaxed as you touched him. it was that effect you had on him and he loved that so much. no feeling or person could make him feel the way you felt.

“nope. it will take too long for me to get used to,” you deny shaking your head as jude chuckles, grabbing your thighs and placing you on your back, jude not holding back from his physical touch. peppering kisses on your forehead, nose, cheeks, your lips then down to your neck where you had another tattoo. your weak spot. “stop it, i know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to show you my love and affection,” he said sarcastically, playing with the fabric on your chest, as he had layed his head gently on you. “yes but you have two meanings towards that… your mom is also right upstairs…” you whisper the last part, afraid of speaking to loudly. this was her house as much as it was his as well. he sighs, accepting defeat and pulling you closer to him. not before pulling you into a kiss that made you want to say fuck it. that damn kiss that forever leaves you breathless and wanting more.

“we should watch a horror movie,” you try to say between his kiss but jude was to focused on you. how you kissed him. how you tasted. feeling weaker but also stronger than ever. “no,” he stoped, this time flipping you over so you could lay on his chest.

“right i forgot. you’re a scaredy cat when it comes-”

“no i’m not! i just don’t want to bring any bad energy in my house,” he cheesed hardly, looking up knowing you were giving him a “are you serious look”.

“the best i can do is watch the nightmare before christmas. take it or leave it,” he shrugged hearing you laugh. “works for me, i’ll hold you tight so you don’t run off,” you teased, jude gasping. “listen the movie is already creepy as it is… especially that little scientist,” he shuddered.

after cleaning up and putting away any mess and cleaning the dishes, instead of traumatizing your tall boyfriend, you settled with his choice of movie. happy either way since you knew jude loved showing you his collection of favorite old films. another part of his love language towards you. you couldn’t count how many times, not just with movies, but items, people even, that meant so much to him.

“are you sleepy?” you whisper, jude nodding. “i am but i want to stay up because i want to spend all the time i can with you,” he yawned, kissing your head. “i can stay the night if that’s okay with you and your mom,” you suggested knowing jude would be immediately agreeing. “my mom adores you and you know she would rather have you stay than leave so late, especially me,” jude said, his thumb drawing circles on your hip.

“i’ll stay,” you smile, cuddling closer to jude as he looked down and smiled. not holding back from taking a picture and posting it, with an old school r&b song. soft launching you once again to the world. which you didn’t mind. “hey, why aren’t we shark boy and lava girl for trent’s party? or-” jude said abruptly.

“i’m leaving.”

“wait no!”

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb

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thepumpkin-queenn · 2 months ago

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Halloween This or That 🎃

1. Scary pumpkin or Cute pumpkin

2. Creepy dolls or Creepy clown

3. Skeletons or Zombies

4. Trick or Treat

5. Broom or Wand

6. Ghosts are real or Ghosts are fake

7. Halloween party or Scary movie

8. Face mask or Face paint

9. Scary pumpkin carve or cute pumpkin carve

10. Scary costume or Funny costume

11. Hannibal Lector or Norman Bates

12. Warlock or Werewolf

13. Abducted by aliens or Turned into a zombie

14. Black cat or Orange cat

15. Michael or Jigsaw

16. Mummy or Grim Reaper

17. Chocolate or Gummies

18. Take two or Take the whole bowl

19. Monster cookies or Eyeball punch

20. Give out candy or Turn off your lights

21. Gory films or Thrillers

22. Heros or Villains

23. Orange or Black

24. Bat or Owl

25. Halloween parade or Halloween photoshoot

26. Dracula or Frankenstein

27. Candy or Popcorn ball

28. Hocus Pocus or The Nightmare Before Christmas

29. Corn maze at night or During the day

30. Freddy or Jason

31. Last one alive or First one to die

32. Cute decorations or Scary decorations

33. Morticia Addams or Elvira

34. Halloween handmade crafts or Store bought crafts

35. Big pumpkin or Small pumpkin

36. Warm Halloween night or Chilly Halloween night

37. Trick-or-treat or Hand out candy

38. Sleep in a cemetery or Sleep in an abandoned house

39. Scary stories or Ouiji board

40. Pumpkin seeds or Pumpkin pie

41. Go all out on your costume or Go basic

42. Paint your pumpkin or Carve your pumpkin

43. Witches or Demons

44. Ghost or Mummy

45. Reese's or Hershey's

46. Fog machine or Spooky sounds

47. Friday the 13th or 'It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown

48. Homemade costume or Store-bought costume

49. Haunted hayride or Haunted house

50. Werewolf or Vampire

51. Skeptical or Superstitious

52. Fake blood or Fake spiders

53. Always hiding or Frequently jumpy

54. Sees ghosts or Good at screaming

55. Goodbye October or Stay spooky

56. Good witch or Bad witch

57. Beetlejuice or The Addams Family

58. Trunk or Treat or Fall Festival

59. Good or Evil

60. Chucky or Annabelle

Doing this as an ask. So ask away 👻

#halloween #october #october 31 #halloween ask #halloween asks #Halloween this or that

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jokeringcutio · 1 year ago

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Art the Clown x Reader (WARNINGS) Halloween smut.

AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.

Drabble. Please read ALL warnings. Pairing: Art the Clown x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: It is Halloween when you bump into a clown and, embarrassed, apologize. Later that evening, your roommate Meri seems to have invited that very same clown into your house for a bit of fun. But that fun turns quickly into a nightmare.

Warnings: Mention of Murder, Cannibalism, death of a friend, Sexual content, dub-con. Reader is scared of clowns. Implied Virginity/First Time. Mention of Blood. Coulrophobia.

The streetlights cast eerie shadows as you hurried home on Halloween evening, arms laden with bags of candy. It was the right atmosphere for it, you thought. All the shadows seemed longer, and in the dark, the ornaments of the houses seemed to come to life. Pumpkins, fake skeletons… Your heart pounded in your chest, the brisk autumn air chilling you to the bone.

As you turned the corner, you collided with a man dressed as a clown, gasping in shock. His attire immediately sent shivers down your spine; black and white suit divided vertically down the middle, large ruffles at his collar and cuffs. A tiny black hat perched atop a white bald cap, while his face was painted with stark contrasts of black and white makeup. The pointy nose bore a black dot, and his eyes were as dark as the abyss.

"Sorry, I didn't see you," you stammered, feeling your pulse race. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you accidentally walked into someone, he had to be dressed as a clown. And you had an irrational fear of clowns. You could not help but tremble and blush in embarrassment. Come on, you thought to yourself, it’s just a grown-up man wearing a costume. Clowns are supposed to be funny. Don’t be so scared.

Art the Clown stared at you silently, unblinking. It was unnerving, but you thought he took offense to the way you had reacted to his outfit. He probably had spent a lot of time getting dressed up, you thought, when you saw all the makeup he wore. And when people put a lot of effort into their costumes and looks, they want to be complimented. Not for some stranger to freak out and insult all of their hard work.

"I-I have coulrophobia,” you stammered, trying to explain your weird reaction to him. God, this was all so embarrassing. You wished you could just fade away. “I'm scared of clowns."

He tilted his head, a cruel smile forming on his painted lips. Nope, that definitely freaked you out again. You had to force a smile on your own, praying he did not see how much effort it took you to be kind and polite to him.

"Nice costume, though," you whispered while you let your eyes rove over his form shortly, just enough to note once again how oddly this man was dressed. Most clowns you met were colorful. But this one, he was grim. A true horror clown, you realized. He fits the theme of Halloween excellently.

“You’re going to enjoy yourself tonight,” you shyly mumbled, embarrassed by the entire encounter. You couldn’t wait to get away. Clutching the candy closer to your chest, you quickly bid him a good evening before stepping away from him and resuming your hurried pace toward home.

You felt the man’s eyes stare at your back until you rounded the corner.

A few hours had passed and children from all over the neighborhood came trick-or-treating at the door. Their laughter and excited chatter filled the air. You glanced at the clock. Just one more hour before the party started. Meri, your roommate, was already wearing a nice blue dress with a very short skirt. Deliberately. You knew she wanted to score tonight. Meri was like that, always eager for a nice time with a willing man.

You glanced down at yourself. You hadn’t really had the time to come up with something nice, but you knew that Meri had more than enough dresses in her closet. You’d borrowed some of her before.

“Yeah, you can borrow one of mine again,” you heard Meri say, and when you looked up you caught her looking at you with a grin.

“As if you can read thoughts,” you whispered, earning a chuckle from your friend.

��I can and I am damn good at it,” Meri said. “I have a pretty red one that would fit you well. Show a bit of cleavage,” she winked at you. “Can’t do no harm.” She turned around and beckoned you to follow her to her room. Once inside, she took the dress out of her closet and showed it to you. You chewed your lip worriedly.

“I don’t know,” you said, earnestly concerned about how revealing that dress actually was. Then your eye fell upon a dress you had borrowed from her before. “Can’t I just take the green one?”

Meri rolled her eyes. “God, no. You definitely need some action, babe. This dress will give you that. I guarantee it.” She thrust the dress into your hands and started to push you towards the door. “Go on, get changed.”

You were about to protest when the doorbell rang and you could hear kids shouting "trick or treat!" from beyond the door.

“I’ll get that,” Meri said with a wink. She smiled warmly at you while she made her way to the door. “Now go get changed, princess. I can’t go to the party with you dressed like that.”

You glanced down at yourself to see what she meant by that. Comfy pants, a baggy shirt, wintery socks. All right, you did not look like any of those women in the magazines. She had a point. With a sigh of defeat, you turned around to head to your own room.

But that was when an idea hit you.

Meri was answering the door. You could quickly slip into her room and pick up the green dress. It would only take a second.

Seizing the opportunity, you slipped into her bedroom, rummaging through her closet where you’d seen the dress you wanted to wear. With a bright smile, you found it. But just as your hand landed on the desired green dress, the sound of Meri's voice reached your ears. “Come in, thing. We can have a bit of fun in my room.”

You froze. The sound of footsteps heading your way made your heart leap into your throat. Had she invited someone in? By the sound of it, she was not alone.

Panicking, you dove into her wardrobe, the scent of her perfume enveloping you as you hid among her clothes.

Your breath hitched as Meri entered the room, the wardrobe door cracked open just enough for you to peek out. “Come on in, sweetheart,” Meri playfully said. You saw her beckon someone who was still on the other side of the threshold. Meri was horny, there was no doubt. You knew she had been so for a while now, hence why she insisted on going to the party tonight. But apparently, someone had come and offered himself willingly at your door. A friend? Someone you knew? Steve again? He would sometimes come around. Or Will?

But when Meri turned around, that excited smile still on her lips, you could finally see the man who wished to follow her into the bedroom. An oversized shoe appeared over the threshold, followed by a suit that was half black and half white.

The evening's events played like a twisted nightmare in your head, the clown’s haunting smile refused to leave your thoughts. It was him though. He was dressed exactly as before: black and white suit, pointy nose, black eyes that held a malicious glint. Fear gripped you, but curiosity kept you from fleeing. Was Meri actually going to have sex with this stranger?

Peeking through the crack in the wardrobe, you saw Meri lead Art the Clown into her bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Quite the costume," Meri purred, running her fingers over his ruffled collar. "I like a man who knows how to stand out."

She didn't seem to care about his silence, only growing bolder in her advances. The stranger sat himself on the edge of her bed and Meri purred again. You wanted to roll your eyes at the show she made. Slowly, she began to undress, exposing more and more of her flawless skin. Meri was beautiful like that. It had often irked you how easily some things came to her, simply because of her looks.

Meri moved her hips alluringly from side to side, unhooking her bra like a stripper before she let it drop to the floor. Her fingers pressed against her breasts, pushing them closer together while she let out a moan. Art's gaze never wavered, locked onto her every movement. Then she shimmied her panties down her hips, slowly stepping out of them.

"Want a taste?" Meri asked, lying back on the bed and spreading her legs. Your breath caught in your throat as Art moved closer, kneeling between her thighs. One bandaged hand was placed on her naked thigh. You could have questioned why the man remained in his costume, but you didn’t. Instead, you felt your breath hitch in your throat at the sight. Sensual, you thought. You felt your own body respond, slick gathering between your folds unbiddenly. And yet, you could not tear your gaze away.

The clown’s tongue darted out. You could see the pink coming from between the black of his lips. A slurping wet noise. "Y-yeah, just like that," Meri moaned, arching her back as he went down on her. Another slurp, another moan, another spark of arousal down your core. You pressed your legs shut, a hand firmly against your lower abdomen. You shouldn’t respond to this. You shouldn’t. "God, you're so good with your mouth," Meri gasped.

The clown gave no reaction. He continued to lick and slurp, his fingers folding Meri’s pussy lips aside so his mouth could easily reach her pearl. He was sipping, slurping, licking, and nipping and you could not tear your eyes away. It was a mesmerizing sight. Meri’s hand found his scalp, pressing him even deeper between her legs. He licked her now. Long, languid licks.

Meri shuddered in ecstasy, but after a few moments of the same, she started to catch her breath again. "Too bad my roommate isn't like this," Meri murmured, but you could hear it. "She's such a wallflower, probably never even had sex. Scared of it, I'd bet." You felt your face flush with shame, wondering if she knew you were hiding there, listening to her words.

“That’s it, baby,” Meri panted, the hand between her legs bobbing up and down faster now. “That’s it, make me cum.” The clown was working his magic apparently, because Meri threw her head back, lost in pleasure.

You bit your lip and clutched the green dress closer against your chest. You didn’t want to watch, knew it was supposed to be a private moment. But curiosity got the better of you, for Meri was right. You weren’t like her. You weren’t-

Suddenly, Meri screamed, her hands started clawing at the sheets. Her eyes turned wide, bulging, the screeching sounds of her screams were painful to your ears. It took you a moment to realize what you saw. The clown’s head kept bobbing up and down between Meri’s legs, but something was wrong now.

Those dreadful black-painted lips no longer glistened with fluids of passion, you realized with a shock. Instead, a darker liquid streamed down the man’s chin, and something large and chunky was caught between his teeth. Your eyes widened in horror as you realized Art was no longer merely pleasuring her. He was literally devouring her, tearing into her flesh with his teeth. Panic surged through you, but you couldn't look away. Your hands itched for your phone, to call 911, but you had left it in your room.

All you could do was watch. Watch and listen and pray.

Darkness surrounded the place. All you heard was your own heavy breathing, like a drum announcing a war. Your ears hurt, your throat was dry, your body felt numb. A horrible stench reached your nostrils.

It was over, had been so for possibly hours. You could not tell. You had not dared to move in case the clown had not left the house yet. But you had heard the door ages ago. Yet fear had kept you frozen.

An eerie silence filled the room. You stayed hidden in the wardrobe, paralyzed by terror until you were sure the clown must have left. Logic told you that you could not stay here forever. Shaking and weak-kneed, you slipped out of your hiding place.

Moving as silently as possible, you tiptoed through the dimly lit apartment, avoiding the gruesome scene in Meri's room. Whatever was left of her - and it wasn’t much – had dripped all over the bedroom walls and floor. Her bed was drenched in blood. All you wanted was to get your phone and call for help – you couldn't bear to look at whatever was left of your friend.

The door to your bedroom creaked open, and you stepped inside, the scent of lavender from your bedsheets a faint comfort in the midst of chaos. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for your phone. Hadn’t you left it on your nightstand? You felt around in the dark but found nothing. And so, with trembling fingers, you flicked on the light switch.

You looked at the nightstand first, but your phone was nowhere to be seen. Strange, you thought, and with a frown, you turned around. You’d closed the door upon entering, and it still was. But there was something odd about the shape of the shadow you saw that fell on it. Almost as if you had grown larger all of a sudden.

With eyes wide, you very slowly turned back to your nightstand. It was just as you had feared. There he stood, Art the Clown, grinning maliciously as he waved your phone in the air. Fear clawed at your throat, leaving you unable to scream or move. His black eyes bore into you, holding you captive.

"Please," you whispered, voice barely audible, "don't hurt me."

He didn't respond, his silence more chilling than any words could be. In one fluid motion, he lunged forward, overpowering you with ease. He threw you onto the bed, his bony fingers digging into your flesh, betraying his inhuman strength.

"Stop," you choked out, but he continued, undeterred. His fingers ran down your body nimbly as he tore off your clothes. Piece by piece. You heard the fabric rip and tear and had to squeeze your eyes shut. The sound reminded you too much of earlier. Of her. Your friend.

You hardly noticed how swiftly he had you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. Not until a cold puff of air made your nipples peak and you finally looked.

Pitch-black eyes bore into yours and you had to bite back a cry of fear. His face was very close to your own, hovering over yours. From this close, you could see the black paint around his eyes and lips, how there wasn’t a single crack in the white surrounding it. With a shock, you realized his teeth were a rotten color. Black, brown. But they weren’t ordinary teeth. As he grinned at you, you saw that something about his mouth was wrong.

Scary thoughts clouded your mind. Would he tear his teeth into your flesh like he had done with Meri? Would he torture you too? You forced yourself not to think back to any of it. Not to the pleasure you had felt at first, or the fear after, or the helplessness.

You became aware of the sound of fabric rustling and followed his movements with your eyes. His arm moved, his hand was doing something down below. Your eyes came to rest just below his abdomen. You had not thought his suit could open there, but it could. Something large and pale popped out of its confines. Flesh, you thought alarmed. Hard and large. Veins throbbed, purple and black. The head spilled a droplet of something white. Pre-cum.

This was his cock? This monstrously large cock was to fit inside of you?

Your mouth had been dry before, but it became impossible to swallow as you watched the clown position himself between your legs. You wanted to protest, say no, push him away. Your hands were upon his chest without thinking, but he was stronger than you. You stood no chance.

“No, please,” you gasped while he fumbled with his cock at your entrance. He looked down at himself as he tried to position himself and seemed annoyed when he couldn’t find your entrance. You felt the leaky head brush past your folds a few times and panicked. Your heart beat faster and your chest heaved rapidly.

“Please,” you begged again, your hands still pushing against his shoulders – to no avail. Then, you felt it. The head nudged against your entrance, parting your walls ever so slightly. But he had noticed it as well. Art’s sour expression made room for a smile as if he was relieved. His eyes darted up to meet yours again, silently telling you that this was going to be fun.

“It won’t fit,” you pleaded weakly, but your whispered words ended in a silent gasp when Art thrust forth, burying his large cock inside your deep warmth in one go. Too much. Your back arched, pressing your body up against his. Your naked breasts brushed past the coarse fabric of his suit. You didn’t care at this point that his clothes were riddled with spots of blood. Everything was focused on the feel of his shaft deep inside of you, hitting the depth of you mercilessly with a blunt thrust.

You gasped silently - as if the clown had ripped your voice away and had rendered you mute. Blood covered his shaft as he pulled out, making him smile even wider. Was that yours? You were pleading silently for this nightmare to end. But as he thrust inside of you, a shameful warmth began to spread through your body. Despite the terror, you found yourself responding to his touch, your heart racing for reasons other than fear. With your hands you tried to claw at him while his hands circled your hips, getting a good grip on your flesh before he started pounding into you in a steady rhythm.

That awful grin of his never seemed to leave his face. Not while he was treating you like a nice piece of meat, slapping your ass while he thrust inside of you. You could see his wicked teeth - black and brown and yellow - and had to force yourself not to think of what his mouth could do. His hips slapped against yours, hipbones prodding against your softer flesh. He was lean and nimble, but the grip he had on you with his hands was fierce and unyielding, certain to leave bruises.

A low moan threatened to spill from your lips and you rolled your head from side to side. What was he doing to you? The clown’s pointy chin brushed past your clavicle as he dipped his head forward, and then you felt his teeth brush past your skin. Scared that he would take a bite and tear out your flesh, you tried to arch your back away from him, but felt him respond by intensifying his grip and pushing you back down. As a response, you had earned a deep harsh thrust with his hips, feeling the head of his cock batter your cervix cruelly.

With each stroke deep inside, you felt your pussy lubricate the way for him. You felt your body respond to his wicked touch. Each slap against your ass had your walls squeeze down on him hard. Each thrust deep inside your core seemed to hit a delicious spot that made you see stars.

Breathlessly, you allowed him to rut inside of you, unable to stop him and unable to so much as make a sound while he pounded you into oblivion. You were helpless against the pleasure that threatened to consume you. He moved relentlessly, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

It didn't make sense – how could you enjoy this? Was there something wrong with you?

A few times you tried to close your eyes, but a slap to your cheek had you open them again to gaze up into the black depths of hell. His devilish smile was above you at all times, grinning down, reminding you of the pleasure he derived from your body. And the pleasure he gave you in turn. Sickening as it was, the demonic man above you managed to bring forth feelings that made your body tremble in agonizing pleasure.

When you came, your walls clamped down hard upon his shaft, milking him in a silent plea for more. You bit your lip from crying out. No way you’d show him that you enjoyed this. You wouldn’t give him the pleasure of your moans.

The silence made the wet sounds only seem louder. Wet thrusts of his cock as he slammed it inside of you hard, despite your walls milking him for all you were worth. Noises of sin, of pleasure, of lust. And then, as he finished inside of you, a shudder ran through your body, your climax tearing through you like a wildfire.

You were still biting your lip, aware it must be bleeding by now, but you’d be damned if you so much as would let him hear your passion. You glanced up at him. The wicked clown’s smile had disappeared. In its stead, you now saw a pensive, almost endearing look in his eyes, as he cocked his head and seemed to study you.

A calloused finger tilted your head back, revealing your throat to him while you looked back at him through half-lidded eyes. He tilted his head to the other side again, dick still twitching inside of your tight cunt, and seemed to study the tears in your eyes. You hadn’t noticed they had formed there. Would have wanted to say they were out of fear or sadness, rather than the harsh truth that they were out of pleasure.

With bated breath, you waited for what he was to do next. Would he kill you now, you wondered? The clown moved, his cock slipping from your core limply, leaving behind a trail of dark blood and yellowish cum.

He surprised you by moving forward, leaning on his elbows, as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead in a twisted mockery of tenderness. The contrast between his sadistic actions and this tender gesture only served to confuse you further.

You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking that surely this would be it. But the rustle of fabric against the bed indicated that he moved away. You waited and listened, heart beating wildly in your chest. But there was only the sound of another rustle. Plastic?

Curious, you opened your eyes to find Art standing several feet away. Picking up a garbage bag you hadn't noticed before, Art slung it over his shoulder and made his way to the window. Not the door, you noted. But the window. How odd?

He opened it. The sound of the window sent a shiver down your spine as you lay on the bed, watching the clown swing one leg over the edge and step outside. He turned around to face you. His black eyes glinted demonically in the darkness of the night – like little coals of fire. And then his smile returned once more. Seeing it, seeing him like that, made something twist deep inside of you.

And still, no sound could come forth from between your lips. The only thing you noticed was how warm your pussy felt at the sight of him, how your nipples peeked, and how your walls clamped down around his phantom cock, craving the real thing to be returned to you.

With a final, silent laugh, he blew you a kiss before disappearing into the night, leaving you alone in the aftermath of your orgasm, mind racing with a thousand unanswerable questions. ~ Fin ~

AN: Hope you enjoyed it :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

#art x reader #art the clown x reader #terrifier #terrifier 2 #art the clown #art the clown x you

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hornyroyale · 2 months ago

Text

pillow talk

Art the Clown x Reader

(SMUT)

5.7k words

Also posted on AO3

———————

Halloween.

One year ago, there was a massacre in Miles County. The now dead suspect was a tall, scrawny clown. The outfit contained half black, half white jumpsuit, with fluffy black pom poms. A white, painted face, with black details on his face. Bald white head with a little black top hat finished his look. When the police arrived at the scene, the clown shot himself through the mouth, admitting him as deceased.

Maybe.

Who knows.

Little kids flooded the streets with their parents, going door to door, filling their baskets with sweet, teeth rotting treats. One of the funniest holidays in the world. For kids, it’s the free candy and dressing up as their favorite things. For teens, it’s the amount of alcohol they consume at parties. For adults, it’s nothing, because they already hit their mid life crisis and can’t be happy anymore.

Doorbell rings, and a bowl of candy is swiftly picked up by the insider and she opens the door to meet with a group of kids. A smile reaches her face, adoring the cute excitement they have at the sight of the king sized bars in a plastic bowl, and she could tell that her house might get populated quick if the word gets around.

The kids leave and she waves to them goodbye, smiling as the door shuts, and soon the bowl is placed on a nearby table. Heading to the kitchen, she opens up the freezer to pull out a bag of frozen tator tots. Her airfryer opens up as she dumps a serving of the mini potatoes. The airfryer shuts and she turns it on, waiting for her snack to heat up. Her house rings with the doorbell once again, and she picks up the bowl of candy to meet with a little girl with her mom in the cutest tinkerbell costume.

With a cute giggle, she holds up a plastic pumpkin that had goodies in it. A king sized kitkat meets with the others and the face of the little girl lights up. The insider smiles at the young girl, saying her goodbyes so that she can go back to cooking her snack. Shortly after she shut the door, another ring echoed and she opened the door with the bowl again just to be met with a man.

Not sure if it’s a man, but it sure is a clown.

His outfit consisted of a jumpsuit that had a half black, half white scheme going on, as long with black puffy buttons and a white collar. He had stained, fingerless gloves wrapped around his hands. His face was painted white, his whole head was white. With his white face, he had black paint around his eyes, mouth, a dot on his nose, and expressive eyebrows, all completed with a cute little black top hat. A creepy grin was met on his face as he held out a black trash bag, implying he wanted candy.

The insider is frightened by his “costume” but she will admit, it’s really creative and well done. Best one she’s seen all day, even though the ones before were all kids, and this is an adult.

“Well hi there!”, she greets with a smile, even though she’s secretly terrified of this terrifier. “Your costume is very well done!”. She did figure that if he worked hard on it, it would mean a lot if she would compliment it.

The clown still has a grin on face while holding his big bag out in hopes to get candy. Even though he might be too old. The insider picks up her bowl of candy and the clown eyes sparkle. She grins at his reaction and chuckles, but he still doesn’t peep a word.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”.

A nod comes out of the clown.

There’s silence between the two and she can tell he’s getting impatient.

“You know, clown guy. Keep a secret for me?”.

The clown nods eagerly, and soon his bag opens wider when she grabs a handful of the candy bars and drops them in his bag.

“Don’t tell anyone I gave you a bunch of king sized bars, I don’t want anyone getting jealous”, she teased. “It’ll be our little secret”.

A wink appeared on her face, and the clown shut his bag that contained his candy, also returning the wink. The bag flew over his shoulder like he was Santa carrying a sack, and his hand gave a friendly wave to her as he bounced away. She shut the door, also waving goodbye. The noise from her airfryer went off, telling her that her tater tots are done.

“Dude are you on your way?”.

“I’m hurrying as fast as I can Sienna. My fucking shirt has a stain on it so I have to improvise”.

Her phone was mounted up against her desk’s mirror and she scavenged through her closet for a shirt that was close to her original design. All she had on was a black lace bra, green miniskirt, fishnets, and black boots that went up her shins. Her hair was down in curls with green hair spray shining through. She was supposed to be a seductive, sexy joker, but with her shirt dirty, her outfit isn’t complete.

“I might not be able to show up for a while. I’m gonna quickly wash my shirt and see if the stain will come out. If not, I’ll just be a boring Joker I guess”.

“Well I wish you could hurry. Allie hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts at all or Brooke’s as well. Has she messaged you?”.

“Not that I know of. Her phone’s probably dead anyways”.

She picks up her phone from her desk.

“I’ll let you know when I’m on my way. Love you lots!”.

“Love you too Y/N”.

She hung up, then grabbed her stained shirt and headed over to her laundry room. Luckily her parents are out of town, because there’s no way they would let her leave the house in a slutty costume, but Halloween is the one time a year a girl can dress like a total slut. Regina George would be proud of her.

Her washer was opened wide, and she tossed her shirt, as well as some other white clothes that were in the dirty clothes basket just so she could be a little helpful around the house. The washer was then shut, and bleach was poured in where the detergent goes. Apparently if bleach gets on your skin, it could make it soggy and slimey because of the pH level. Hopefully nobody has to go through that. I bet it would hurt.

Just thinking about that made her shiver, and she was extra careful when pouring the bleach, but it ran out before she could even fill to the brim. She shook the jug over it to get extra drops before she just gave up and did with what she had. She closed the detergent drawer, then started the washing machine, the empty bottle was placed on the shelf above, and she made a mental note to go shopping to buy more so that her parents don’t get upset.

She picks up her phone and shoots a text to Sienna.

Y/N: how’s the party?

Sienna: I’m fucked up right now

Sienna: My mom is pissed at my brother too because he brought a dead animal to school apparently and he’s blaming it on the clown that massacred a ton of people last year

Y/N: didn’t you see that clown the other day lol?

Sienna: It was probably some loser dressed up as him, but apparently that worker was found dead after I left

Y/N: crazyyy. maybe it was him

Sienna: I’m starting to think it was

Y/N: a clown came to my door early. adult man, in a black and white clown costume, bald. isn’t that your guy you saw too?

There was no response from Sienna.

Bubbles would pop up.

But no response.

Y/N: Sienna?

Still nothing

Her phone might’ve died as well.

The doorbell rung, but with her being shirtless, she quickly grabbed a hoodie that was hanging up on a hook and put it on so that way she wouldn’t expose herself to a potential little kid. Grabbing the bowl of candy, she opened the door expecting a group of kids waiting for candy.

It’s the clown again.

Something’s different with his costume.

There’s blood all over.

She’s frightened because of the conversation she just had, but she needs to keep her cool that way she won’t be his next target, even though she’s saying silent prayers in her head so that she stays alive. She puts a smile on her face and greets him once again.

“Hello there! I see you added some color to your costume!”. She giggles awkwardly. The clown nods with a big grin on his face. There’s no telling if it’s fake blood, and with the slight scent of iron, there’s no way that it is.

That’s real blood.

“Look at the both of us, we’re both dressed up as clowns, except yours is way better than mine!”. Trying to keep the conversation as positive as she can, she hopes that he’ll go to someone else instead. The silence starts between them, and she knows that’s not good, but she can’t think of what to say. The clown takes a small step towards her and she blurts out something without even thinking.

“Do you want to come inside for a bit? I’m waiting for something to get out of the washer”.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Why did she say that?

Without thinking twice, the clown welcomes himself in like he owns the place, and sits down comedic like on a chair in the living room. Not much she can do now, she just dug her own grave. But, in most horror movies that she watches, a lot of victims die from being rude to the killer, so maybe he’s like them.

She sits across from him, managing distance, but not too obvious.

Should she offer a drink, a snack, ask him why he came back?

Thumbs twiddle on her lap so that she can think of something, but this clown makes himself feel at home. She wishes she could get a word out of him, but he doesn’t make a noise at all. Not a single peep.

“Do you want a beverage? Or any snacks? You are my guest, I hope I can make you feel welcomed”. He nods his head aggressively but again, with him being silent, it’s hard to understand him.

“Can I get you something to write on so that I can know what you want?”.

The clown just stands up and walks over to her, and now her life is at risk, she at least thinks, but he holds his hand out, implying that he wants her to stand up. Hesitating, she grabs it and he pulls her up, then walks her to her kitchen. She stands there as the stranger goes through her cabinets, looking for goodies.

“Can I get a name at least?”.

He stops, and fear runs through her body again. A knife shines on her counter and he picks it up.

This is it.

She’s gone now.

Her parents will come back from vacation and see their dead daughter dead in the kitchen.

Eyes are slammed shut, but nothing happens. Instead, various fruits and vegetables are cut up to look like letters. A banana peel is cut in half to create an upside down “V”, and the banana goes through the center to make it an “A”. A carrot in a straight line, and chopped up cucumbers to connect to the carrot to make a “R”, and finally, two pieces of celery together in the shape of a “T”.

Art.

“Art?”.

‘Art’ nods his head up and down with a fat smile, happy that she discovered who she was.

Art the clown.

The same name of the clown in the Miles County massacre.

This was the clown.

Standing in her house.

He could kill her any second.

Silence fills the room again, for a long period of time, and she can tell that he’s starting to get impatient, but she doesn’t know what to think.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to get to know you Art”. She extends her hand for a handshake and he takes it, not breaking eye contact with her.

Oh why her.

Why is it that she has to be the one in danger?

Finally he lets go of her hand and he has a bigger smile on his face.

This might just be her fate.

Her washer goes off, cutting the silence and she turns her head towards the laundry room. Excusing herself, she walks inside and opens the washer, pulling out her wet shirt. The stain did disappear, but no use anyways. It’s not like she could go to the party now. She’ll be dead. She turns around and almost jumps at the sight of Art leaning against her door frame, huge smile, and raising his eyebrows up and down.

Well, he is a clown, gotta stick to the part. Coming toward her again, he grabs her wet shirt and shakes it like crazy to get some water out, then hands it back to her, pointing at her hoodie.

“You want me to put on my shirt? I need to put it in the dryer first”. Still with his arms crossed, he doesn’t move. This freaks her out more.

Well she is a slutty joker. Might as well have a wet shirt to add more to the character.

“Okay, I will. Look away though”. She teased. His hands covered his eyes in a clown-like manner and he would open his fingers to reveal his eye, but Y/N would roll hers with a smile and shoo him away. Turning around this time, she was able to slip her hoodie off and put on her shirt. The water stuck to her body, and it was cold. Her bra was showing through the material and she clenched from the feeling. Wet clothes are really uncomfortable. She pats the clown on the shoulder and he takes his hands off his face and makes an “O” shape with his mouth.

Subtle claps are made and he jumps up and down.

“Does it fit with the slut aesthetic?”.

Rapid nods come from him, and he comes closer to her quickly and holds her face like he was a grandmother with her grandchild. Guess he likes seeing another clown. Her hands go on top of his and she smiles up at him, removing his off her face.

“Glad that you like it. I am supposed to be at a party tonight and I really hate to cut this short, but I’m sure if I don’t show up, my friends will be really disappointed in me. I promise that we’ll get to talk more later”.

He didn’t like that.

Smile slowly fades and this is when she knew she fucked up.

His head was shaking and he grabbed her hand so that she couldn't leave. Looking pissed, he yanked her hard closer to him, and he had a sinister glare to his face.

“Okay, fine. I won’t go. I’ll spend the night with you. I’m sorry. Can I atleast tell her that something came up?”.

The grip on her hand was released harshly, and she grabbed her phone that was sitting on the dryer. Sienna still never responded to her from earlier, but whatever, she already figured out who he was anyways.

Y/N: something came up, i can’t make it tonight i’m sorry

She set her phone back down, and began to take her wet shirt off, but Art stopped her.

“C’mon can I atleast change into comfier clothes. The tightness doesn’t feel good”.

A finger met with her face, and he booped her nose, then he ran to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Her eyes widened as he came closer to her and she stepped back towards the wall, and he came closer.

And closer.

She shut her eyes tight preparing for the pain, but instead the knife slipped under her shirt, and it got torn off, along with a part of her bra, making it fall, and she quickly covered her chest so that he couldn’t see anything.

“I could’ve taken it off nicely, but all up to you I guess”.

His shoulders shrug, and he goes for her pants next but she stops him.

“I’ll just change out of them. Much easier. I’ll be right back”.

Heading to her room, she kicks off her boots and finds a pair of sweats and a shirt she can wear to cover herself up. Shorts were quickly removed, along with her fishnets. She tosses them into her hamper by her door, just to be met with, again, Art. This time making her jump and finding anything to cover her body up with. He opens his mouth to indicate a silent laugh.

He walks towards her again, ripping the blanket away to reveal herself to him, and like the clown he is, he grabbed one and squeezed it like it was a horn. Then again, and again, and again, until Art pushed her back on the bed and ripped her underwear right off.

Like an actual rip.

Now she’s butt ass naked in front of a total stranger, and not just any stranger, but a fucking murderer.

Whatever it takes her to survive.

Art admires the exposed body, and with his half gloved hand, he traces from her collarbone, down to her pelvis with his finger. The light sensation makes her jump, and he stops the movement. Little breaths made her chest go up and down, and in between her thighs, wetness started pouring out of her pussy. A hand went up to his mouth, and his glove reached his mouth. His teeth gripped onto the cloth and he slowly removed it off of his hand, then spat it out onto the floor. The same thing happened with the other, and soon his hands were completely bare. Fingers crawled north of her body, up to her mouth, when she was met with his index and ring finger. They poked at her mouth, in which she opened slightly, and he put them in her mouth. Her tongue traced his fingers which tasted like metal, probably from the blood. Not very hygienic, but she didn’t even care. Saliva coated his fingers, and he took them out of her mouth, and went down to her soaking pussy.

He would lower them closer, then pull back, look up and smile, and repeat his actions, completely torturing her with a stupid smile on his face. She would feel his wet fingers tap her pussy so slightly, but not any friction to please her.

Whines started to pour out of her mouth.

Art the clown likes that.

A lot.

He likes hearing victims cry and make noises while he’s torturing them.

Makes him want to do more.

His slender fingers finally connect with her core, coating her wetness all over herself. He plays with her some more, walking his fingers around her hole, but prevents himself from actually entering.

This irritates her.

“Damn it! Stop with the teasing you fucking clown!”.

He stops, and pulls his hand away from her.

Bad mistake, Y/N.

He pulled a small scalpel out from his sleeve and presented it like he was a magician, and held it to her neck. Sweat beads started streaming from her forehead, and Art wagged his finger. Her face is still needy, and the scalpel to her neck turned her on even more. Hips buck up into the air, her dripping pussy throbbing, begging for touch.

“…please”.

Art the clown likes that.

How he loves torturing her.

A hand went back down to her core, and a single finger applied pressure to her clit. Her body jumps slightly at the feeling, biting her bottom lip. Art finally slips two fingers inside of her, the tight warmth makes his cock harden. The clown suit is baggy, so it hides his bulge, so poor Y/N won’t see his massive “head”.

Fingers dance inside of her, curling, feeling, pumping. With his free hand, that’s where his scalpel is, and he traces the cold metal along her bare body.

The blade goes around her nipples.

It goes around her belly button.

It goes back up near her neck.

Until.

He makes a small cut on the side of her neck, cold blood trickling down her neck, onto her bed. She clenches her jaw, and her gash throbs in pain. Art lowers his head into the crook of her neck, his fingers still moving inside her. A wet feeling against her neck. It’s his tongue. He catches the blood that’s falling, then he presumes to suck on her slash. He was a cannibal. He likes to taste people, and taste what’s inside. For some of his unlucky victims, he’d eat them alive, and no meat gets fresher than that. Other times, he’d wait until he already killed them, then rip them open and eat their insides.

Not the only part that he likes eating.

Her gash stops bleeding, and not a trace of blood is found on her neck, only a little on her bed. His iron efficiency is going to be really crazy.

Soon, he pulls his fingers out of her, and wipes it on his pant leg, just for him to lower himself to meet with her inner thighs.

Getting eaten out by a man in a clown costume was not on her bucket list for tonight.

Getting eaten out by a serial killer, who came over covered in someone else’s blood, and who might kill her next, was not even in her thought process for her future.

Here we are.

Kisses are planted on her thighs, his hands rubbing up and down her leg as he gets closer to her cunt. Small specks of black paint are left from where he kissed her.

He’s hungry.

Scooping her body up, and pulling her closer to his face, his tongue darts onto her pussy, gathering her wetness up, then smearing it all over. His hands rest on her outer thighs, and under her ass, squeezing the fat in his hands. For a psychopathic clown, he sure knows how to eat pussy.

Usually when she gets eaten out, she’ll grab at the person’s hair, but unfortunately, Art is bald. Such a shame, she can’t grab his “hair”, then yanking him up so she can see his mouth covered in hers and his wetness. Her hands instead just grab at her sheets, and occasionally rubbing the top of his head, and when she did, he’d grip her harder, his nails digging into her flesh. The pain does make her shriek, but the overwhelming pleasure overrides it.

He pulls her cunt closer to his face, his nose poking at her region, eating her pussy like he hasn’t eaten anything in years. Her thighs squish around his head more when her nerves start building up. A man’s dream really, getting his skull crushed by a woman.

His face is removed from her pussy, and his face paint is smeared all over the place. White paint on her upper-inner thighs, while black paint is smeared around her pussy, where his mouth was just at. On his face, the paint dripped down to his chin, unevening out his makeup. A hand grazes her thigh,and he turns his back to her, reaching his arm behind to a zipper that’s on his back.

He wants her to unzip him.

Legs shaking from the amazing tongue work that just went on, she kneels behind him, and reaches up to his zipper, guiding it down. A thin, light muscular body comes out of the suit, and he’s not wearing anything underneath.

Not even underwear.

He turns around, and does jazz hands with a stained grin. He did surprise her.

With a big cock.

A light giggle comes from her lips, and she looks down and makes eye contact with his second head. It’s about above average in length and girth, circumsized, and a throbbing pink tip with leaking precum. He moves it around a little by shaking his hips, and also just moving it on his own.

(I literally found out dudes can move their dicks on their own without touching it a few days ago)

His mouth mimics a silent laugh, and he stands proud on the side of her bed, flexing his cock. Since he is standing in front of her, she crawls on her hands and knees to the edge, then sits down. Face to face with his dick.

Her gaze fixates on his rod, then she looks up at him with big, innocent eyes. The clown looks down at her, no longer smiling.

He wants her bad

He needs her bad.

She can see this.

A light kiss on his tip makes his body shiver, and her mouth performs small licks around his tip, testing the waters. His hand falls on her head, pushing her closer to his cock. Better act soon before he kills her for teasing him.

Just the thought of that gets her even more wet.

Death is scary.

But imagining him fucking her, and as soon as they orgasm together, he kills her with his cum inside, which seeps out on her bed. He’d leave a note with her blood on the walls, and her parents come home to see their daughter’s corpse, exposed on her bed with her killer's seed dripping out of her, and the killer’s name all over her room.

She wraps her lips around his head of his dick, and twirls her tongue around. Art bites his bottom lip, and pushes her head down again, craving more of her wet mouth. Her hands rest on his lower abdomen, giving herself a base to control her bobs.

Her throat feels fucking amazing.

It’s hard for him to control himself, even though he’s craving to pound her throat so hard that she chokes on his massive cock, and dies, just for him to fuck her dead body. But an alive body is way better than a dead one.

One hand moves to his cock, pumping him as she slides her mouth all over him, then she moves down to sucking on his balls.

She maintains to look up at him.

His face is totally different from his usual smile, and it’s not a frowny face. His eyes are half open, and mouth gasping for air. His grip in her hair tightens, his hips moving slowly, craving more friction.

Her mouth pulls off.

“You want to throat fuck me? Don’t you?”.

A small nod comes from the clown.

“You’re the one in control here. Do it. Fuck my throat til i can’t breathe anymore”.

Another nod comes from him, and he makes sure that he’s positioned right for her. Hands grab at both sides of her head, and he thrusts in and out of her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. He wishes it was her pussy, he wants to fuck her pussy bad. Her mouth is amazing, don’t get him wrong, but her tight pussy throbbing on the bed is what he’s craving the most.

A tap is felt on his pelvis, and he stops pounding her throat. Her mouth gets removed from his cock, and she leans back on the bed, not breaking eye contact with him. After she gets in his full view, she looks up at him needy, spreading her legs open wide for him to enter.

Not even a hesitation before he gripped onto her hip with one hand, and the other guiding his cock inside her. He immediately shivers and rests his head in the crook of her neck. A pillow comes under her back and behind, and immediately, Art begins to fucking pound her.

Sadly, he doesn’t make noises at all. Y/N wishes she could hear his moans when entering her tight hole. His actions tell enough, eyes rolled back, mouth gaping open, and he barely entered her. Her body falls back more on the bed, and her arms go around him, hands on his back.

One hand of his slams against her bed, right aside her bed to give himself support, while the other is still on her hip, stabilizing her body for him as she gets fucked by a wild animal.

She pulls him tighter to her, their sweaty bodies connecting and making funny noises. His back begins to sweat, making her lose her grip, but her nails dig into his back to keep herself close.

The noises of skin slapping skin and her loud moans fill the house, and luckily, she is home alone. Her parents wouldn’t appreciate her getting fucked under their roof, especially with a murderous clown being the one that’s fucking her.

Her leg gets scooped up, and it rests on his shoulder, and he leans forward, pushing more of himself inside of her warmth.

Until he stops.

He pulls out, and taps on her chest. She looks up at him, confused, mostly at the lack of communication and also why he would stop. He swirls his finger in a circle, indicating for her to turn over, so that her ass faces him.

She swaps positions and as soon as she puts her ass up in the air for him to adore, he slams himself back inside, hands on her ass as he pounds so deep that his cock is hitting her cervix.

It really isn’t wise to put a dick that reeks of blood inside of her, especially a stranger’s. He probably doesn’t have any STDs, but it’s still a little unhygienic. Who cares though.

Her moans are muffled into a pillow, drool coating her mouth and the cushion. He gets amusement out of her, watching her ass jiggle on his dick, her hands clawing at her bed sheet. All because of him.

She arches her back more, and an upcoming orgasm is coming her way. Her core feels like it’s burning with pleasure, and her wetness seeps out. His cock is hitting her in all of the right places, and he connects their bodies together. He’s close to her ear, and she can almost hear him gasping for air. A hand cups her tit, and he goes as deep as he can, his mouth nibbling on her ear lobe.

Tension builds in her lower half, and she’s about to snap. Strings of curses and moans fall out of her mouth. A gentle slap on her ass makes her jump, and that is what makes her about to snap. Her breathing speeds up.

The knot in his stomach bursts, and a huge wave of pleasure goes through her. Eyes roll back into her head, her legs shake, and she collapses on her bed, Art pulling out of her.

He takes his cock in his hand, and strokes it so he can cum as well. Anywhere is a target. He could cum on her ass, her tits, her face, in her mouth, even inside of her. She turns around onto her back, leaving an open area for his semen to fly onto. Right there, on her perky tits.

More strokes go on, and his twitching cock is ready to burst. He points it at her chest and a white load shoots out from his dick, landing, mostly, on her tits. The rest flew off either in her hair or on the bed sheets.

The both of them try to catch their breaths, and Y/N is trying to comprehend what just happened.

A murderer went to her house, wanted candy for trick or treating, came back to her house later at night covered in blood, someone else’s blood, he messes around in her house, and fucks her.

Art leans down, and gives her one last kiss on her inner thighs, before supposedly leaving.

She just sits on her bed.

Her pussy is too sore to even move.

Her legs are shaking from the mind blowing orgasm she just got.

Cum is dripping off her chest.

What now?

She grabs a random shirt that’s on the floor to wipe off the semen, then tosses it in her hamper. She tries to get up off the bed, but her balance is very uncoordinated, and she collapses. Her comfy clothes that she had lying out fell on the ground while she was getting fucked, and she reaches out to grab them. She lazily slipped them on, and tried to stand up again, using a bookshelf as her balance.

Something falls on the other side of the house.

He’s still here.

She limps towards her doorway and looks around.

“Art?”.

Obviously no response, the fucker doesn’t even talk.

She comes out of her room, hand on the wall as she glides down the hallway, and sees a shadow in her living room.

And a bag.

A trash bag.

She goes towards the bag, and as soon as she gets too close, the clown jumps up behind her, and throws her on the couch, her head hitting against the back hard. He smiles at her rubbing the back of her head in pain, and he wiggles his fingers like he was a magician. The bag got opened, and he stuck a hand in there and pulled out an item.

It looked to be a saw.

Fear was obviously present in her eyes.

Art jumped at her, but not too close to actually get her, and she flinched. This is amusing to him. And he jumped again, and again, and again.

He slaps his knee and lets out a silent laugh, pointing at her like she’s a fool.

He drops the saw back in the bag, and pats the top of her head, then blows her a kiss as he picks up the bag, throwing it over his shoulder, then proceeding to comically walk away. He turned around when he got to the door, and he lifted his little top hat to her. She waved a small goodbye, and soon vanished. When he stuck his fingers in her mouth, they almost tasted like salt.

Wonder who’s blood he’s covered in?

Weird.

Dude must like salty foods

#terrifier #art the clown #smut #lol

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