Art The Clown X Reader One shots! (Open)

in the silent, I'm yours (NG reader)

Your apartment is a quiet, hollow echo of your thoughts, a place where the walls feel like they’re closing in, no matter how far you stand from them. Each night blends into the next, the same dull ache pulling at you. Nothing seems real. Nothing, except him.

In the dim light of a fading lamp, you spot the faint shimmer of his eyes from across the room. Art watches you silently, his expression twisted in that strange, unsettling way you’ve grown addicted to. His grin is more than just an expression, it’s the only reminder that you’re still breathing.

“Darling,” you whisper, voice cracking as it catches in the back of your throat, “I’m falling.” The words feel heavy, broken, almost as if you’re pleading for him to understand. “I’m falling apart, and you’re… the only thing holding me together.”

Art tilts his head, studying you with a predatory patience that leaves you both terrified and breathless. His silence speaks to you, filling every lonely part of you with an energy so dark and powerful that it sends shivers down your spine. He steps closer, and your pulse races as his shadow washes over you, bringing with it an unnatural calm.

“I’m so messed up, over you,” you murmur, clinging to his silent presence. “More than you even know.” You can feel your chest tightening, an ache filling you that words can’t touch. Nothing else in your world makes sense, but him? He’s everything, your reason and your ruin.

You reach out, pulling him closer as you press your forehead against his chest, clutching the fabric of his worn costume like it’s the only thing tethering you to this life. Your voice trembles as you say, “Bite me, bruise me, leave me like you do… just don’t leave me forever.”

Art’s gloved hand slides up your arm, tracing patterns on your skin that make you shiver. His touch is cold, and it stings, but somehow, it’s the only thing that makes you feel alive. He cups your face, tilting it up so his gaze meets yours, and for a second, it’s like he’s peering straight into your soul, pulling apart every little broken piece and rearranging them in his own dark image.

“Darling, I’m calling,” you whisper, barely audible. “Lay me in my tomb.” You don’t expect an answer, but the silence between you grows heavier, binding you to him in ways you could never explain. It’s a promise you know he understands, one that fills you with both dread and an aching desire.

Your hand slides down his chest, fingers trembling as they reach his wrist. “Call me babydoll,” you say, voice catching on a shaky breath. You don’t know if he hears you, if he even cares, but the way his gaze holds yours is answer enough. You see something flicker in his eyes, a hunger, a twisted devotion that mirrors your own, an obsession that tells you he’s just as trapped as you are.

“Come break down these walls,” you murmur, feeling the last of your defenses crumble under his gaze. You’ve spent so long building walls to protect yourself from the world, from the relentless pain that threatens to consume you. But with him? You want nothing more than to let them fall, to let him consume every dark part of you.

His hand moves to the back of your neck, and for a moment, you feel his grip tighten, the pressure grounding you in a way that makes your head spin. His touch is cruel, unyielding, and yet there’s something almost gentle in the way he pulls you close. You’re lost, entirely, hopelessly his.

“Don’t leave me alone,” you beg, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. You’re terrified of what he could do, what you’re letting him do, but the idea of being alone, of losing him, is so much worse. Your heart pounds, your entire world narrowed down to the silent promise you feel radiating from him, a promise you know will be fulfilled in his own twisted way.

Without a word, Art leans in, his face inches from yours, his breath cold and electric on your skin. His silence is everything you need to hear, and as his gloved hands press harder into your skin, you realize you don’t need him to say anything at all.

Because he’s here, and that’s all you ever wanted.