Welcome Home (Fluff)
Pairing: Art the Clown x Reader
It was a cold and unusually dark night. Art wasn't home, he’d been gone for a few days already. You faintly hoped he wouldn’t return, that things would go back to the way they were before he forced himself into your life.
Another part of you looked forward to seeing him again, to be caught under his intense gaze and lured into his arms. It was cruel how he deceived you with gentle touches and almost intimate stares.
Those soft moments switch in the blink of an eye. Little nibbles at your neck turn into harsh bites and tender caresses become a tight, painful grip. You’re starting to like it, seek it even.
You glanced down at the nasty green bruises on your thighs, exposed by your soft cotton shorts. He liked to leave an impression behind when he was going to be gone a while. Something to remember him by, though he was already certain you wouldn’t forget.
He had you wrapped around his slender, deadly finger and you didn't do a single thing about it. He was like an addiction, you couldn't just quit him though a part of you desperately wanted to.
It was strange how you were drawn to him, how the sick embrace of his arms brought you such strong sense of security. You were certain something was wrong with you and he was to blame.
He twisted your mind, your body, your entire being.
Art was funny too, quiet the comedian when he was in a particularly good mood. You smiled to yourself at the though of his goofy shenanigans, an image of him standing at the door in sunflower sunglasses making you giggle.
He was so incredibly unpredictable. You could only hope that was the side of Art you’d see when he came home.
Little did you know, he’d been standing at the doorway as you cleaned the kitchen counter, oblivious to him and lost in thought.
He tilted his head, observing you. A small smile ghosted your lips, a fond memory perhaps. He wondered if that little expression of happiness would disappear once you saw him.
Slowly, he made his entrance, careful not to startle you too quickly. He grinned, raising his hands to hover over your hips. You screamed as soon as he made contact and his grin only widened.
You gulped, catching your breath as Art picked you up and placed you on the counter you’d been cleaning.
“That was mean,” you frowned, rubbing a bit at your chest. He waved off your complaint and stared at you, almost expectantly. Though you were unsure of what exactly he wanted.
His arms moved to either side of you and he leaned forward a bit, still standing tall as his head tilted. You were effectively trapped, if you tried to scoot back he’d only grab you.
“Welcome home Art,” you said, voice quieter than before as you looked up at him with nervous eyes.
He shook his head, wrong answer.
His head was now level with yours, eyes staring holes into your own. The mood had shifted and you now felt a little ill.
You didn't think when you pressed your lips to his, feeling him smile against your mouth and move between your legs, closer to you. Right answer.
His hands moved to the back of your head and fingers tangled themselves gently in your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck, gasping for air once he finally pulled away.
“Did you miss me?” you questioned, out of breath.
He nodded, wiggling his eyebrows before bopping your nose and moving around you to wander elsewhere in the house. You sat there for a moment more before getting off the counter and gathering your cleaning supplies.
Art was home.
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