𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝑰 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒖.
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🎪Fandom: The freak circus.
🌹Pairing: Pierrot x female Reader.
🤹🏻 Rating: very explicit.
🍿 Summary: Pierrot loves you. But he doesn't love you the way you imagine. He loves you with his claws and his teeth.
🔞 Warnings: extremely graphic sexual content, violence mixed with intimacy, bloodplay, CNC, obsessive love, yandere Pierrot, possessive and dehumanizing language, sadistic behavior, cannibalistic undertones, emotional and physical domination, horror.
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Author’s Note: I was inspired by the song "The red means I love you".
You know when you love someone so much that you feel the need to hurt them?
Exactly this.
I'm a toxic person with dark thoughts, and I really resonate with characters like Pierrot. The metaphors of violence/cannibalism and romance really suit him.
This story is told from Pierrot's POV.
Key: when you read the text in italics and yellow, you' find yourself're in Pierrot's head.
When you read the text in italics, I am referring to the lyrics of the song.
I hope everything's clear, happy reading!
She’s finally mine, and I can taste her, savor her flesh.
You’re here, in your big sized, empty bed.
A thin, white nightgown—almost sheer—clings to your delicate curves, accentuating your soft shape.
I move closer, unable to hold myself back.
I want... you... too much.
To push so deep inside you that you’d be only mine, forever.
My body feels wrapped in flames.
I can hear my heart pounding.
It beats and beats, carving out a void only you can fill.
Because you’re mine, aren’t you, Y/N?
It feels like it wants to pull out of my chest, tearing through my flesh just to be with you.
My thoughts scream, they confuse me, they claw at my mind.
You... you don’t let me think.
You’re so beautiful.
Your gentle face, your soft skin…
I want to wear it.
I’m drooling.
How careless of me.
That’s the effect you have on me, my Love.
I need to hold you.
To feel your warm breath brushing against my skin.
Please… you don’t know what you do to me.
You don’t know how much I burn, always—but especially now, seeing you on that bed, alone… one hand pressing gently between your thighs. Were you thinking of me?
Were you touching yourself because of me?
Do you want me that much?
I do too, if only you knew how much… my Lady.
Ah… just the thought of being able to smell her skin drives me insane.
Your scent… damn… I’m hungry.
I move closer to your bed, climbing onto it—one knee, then the other.
I try to be quiet, but the bells on my hat are loud, tinkling melodically in the silent night—alive only by the sweet sound of your breathing.
You draw me in so effortlessly, as if I were under a spell.
I’m holding my face in my gloved hands; I didn’t even realize it.
They’re warm, because I’m burning… for you.
You’re beneath me, now.
A mess of (your color) skin and (your color) hair spread across your flushy pillow, and I can’t decide if I want to (fuck) LOVE you or eat you… alive.
Or... on the contrary… definitely, not just probably.
Damn it, you’re making me lose my train of thought too.
See?
You drive me mad.
Unable to think.
I only think of you. In so many ways… it almost embarrasses me...
I think about you dressed, while you work, while you bite your nails, your lip, while you smile.
I think of you even when you’re unconscious, like now.
I don’t want to scare you, but it’s easier this way.
The things I would do to you…
I want to sink my claws into your lovely flesh.
Dig deep, down to the bone.
And it still wouldn’t be enough...
I want you.
I want you… Y/N.
I wish I could open you up, make space for myself in your chest after removing everything in the way.
You don’t need anything, just me.
I need to feel you as mine so completely that I no longer know where you end and I begin.
Am I mad?
Can you understand this silly desire of mine?
I would never want to hurt you, but I can’t help it.
Your body… your skin… you’re so soft.
I could use you as a pillow.
Caress you.
Lick every inch of you, savoring your flavor, testing it on my tongue that wants nothing more than to savor you.
My taste buds ache at the thought of having your flavor on my palate.
My hands are shaking.
They always shake when I see you—when the mania starts clawing up from my gut, wrapping itself around my ribs like a second skeleton.
You look so innocent, so trusting, so stupidly willing, and it makes my cock ache so bad that I can break just by looking at you.
Unusual. They say strange fascination, infatuation.
I’m so close to your face now, moving slowly.
Gods, how much effort it takes not to devour you like a beast.
I press my lips to your throat, tasting.
My tongue moves from your collarbone over your pulse point, feeling the frantic thrum of your heart beneath the skin.
Do you sense me?
Can you hear me?
Are you awake? Or are you just pretending to sleep?
Is it so you’ll let me do whatever I want?
I hear you gasping; a small, little sound escaping your plump lips.
I feel your fingers twisting into my hair, and I bite down, just enough to feel the give of your flesh between my teeth, to hear the little high-pitched whimper you let out.
Call me what suits your taste. I just wanna taste.
“You’re so soft,” I mumble against your neck, my voice ruined, scraping out of a throat too tight, burning with need.
My hips grind down against yours, my cock sliding through your thighs.
Can you feel it?
Can you feel how much it pulls?
How fucking hard is it?
How fucking big it is? For you?
You whine, trying to arch up into me, trying to take me, and I smile gasping on your throat; a breathless sound that spills out of me like I’m losing my goddamn mind.
And I’ve always heard it’s what’s inside that counts.
My claws drag harshly over your chest, right across your sternum, while watching you open your eyes.
Watching your pupils dilate.
Are you scared?
Are you afraid of me?
Do you know my intentions?
And it’s exactly what you want?
To die for me.
To die for the man you love, deep down.
There’s nothing more poetic.
This is the story of my sad, little comedy.
You know I don’t want to hurt you, right?
But my love for you blinds me!
You’re my obsession, my Little One…
Stupid me, I’m tracing your breastbone with my fingers, pressing harder, penetrating your flesh, leaving behind a shimmering red mark: mine.
I want to bathe in your blood.
Live there.
Live in you.
I pull back just enough to look at you better.
Your lips are parted, flushed.
Your eyes open wide with that look of fear that makes my blood sing.
You want this.
You want me.
Even the parts that scare the rest of the circus into crossing themselves when I walk by.
‘Cause my insides are red, and yours are too.
And the red on my face is matching you.
“You’re gonna let me mark you up so deep no one ever forgets who you belong to. Right?”
You nod, finally awake and conscious.
Your lips trembling, thighs spreading wider in invitation, for me.
She’s my precious, good girl.
I don’t make you wait.
I’m not that cruel…
I take my turgid cock out of my pants, in my hand.
I slam into you in one brutal thrust, burying myself to the hilt in your already wet, heat-soaked cunt.
Ah… she’s a dirty girl. Isn’t she?
Your back bows off the mattress, a desperate cry ripping from your throat, and I don’t slow down.
I need this—you—need the drag of your walls gripping me, the slick sound of my hips slapping against yours, the way your nails rake down my back, my shoulders, hard.
And goodness, you’re bleeding…
I press harder my claws on your chest.
They sinks in, more deep, just enough that wells up with bright red blood, beading on your skin like fucking rubies, its little drops splashing on my mask.
You scream, but it’s not only pain; it’s shock, it’s pleasure.
Ah… I can feel her cunt clenching around me so hard I see stars.
… what a wonderful feeling!
I remove my sharp nails from the wound they have branded, your moans lost in the sound of our ragged breathing, in our messed up thoughts.
My mouth is on the wound before I can think, my tongue lapping at the hot, sweet blood, groaning against your skin like I’ve just tasted the best thing I’ll ever have.
You’re down and you’re pleading…
“Please,” you finally sob, and I don’t know if you’re begging me to leave you or to never fucking stop eating you.
Your legs wrap around my waist, heels digging into my ass, pulling me deeper.
And I comply.
I always comply when you get like this.
When I get you... and when I get you like this.
… my head is just reeling.
I fuck you harder.
Messier.
My hand finds your throat and squeezes, just shy of cutting off your air, just enough to feel your pulse flutter under my palm like a trapped bird. My hips slam into yours, relentless, punishing, chasing our freedom.
I bite your lip hard enough to split it.
It bleeds.
What a feeling… what a taste…
The red means I love you!
I lick the blood off your mouth, sharing it then between us, kissing you with my tongue, braiding it and tying it to yours, moving it in your mouth.
Tasting your blood means I love you!
My pace turns sloppy, desperate.
I’m not making love to you, even if my intentions were these, I swear they were from the heart.
I’m consuming you.
With my love for you.
Every thrust drives my cock deeper into that tight, sopping heat, and every time I pull back I chase the feeling with my hips, trying to get impossibly closer, trying to crawl inside your skin.
The red means I love you!
The red means I love you...
Your body is trembling, your head thrown back, your throat exposed and painted in bloody handprints.
You look like a sacrifice.
Unfortunate. They say such a shame, I turned out this way.
“I am a maniac, when it comes to you,” I hiss into your ear, punctuating the words with particularly brutal thrusts.
“But you love me! Don’t you? You love the way my heart-shaped irises circle fast for you when I see you! When I’m inside you! You love this!”
Well, yeah, I get manic when I cause a panic.
Your nails dig into my shoulders again, scratching my costume.
I groan, fucking into you harder, faster, my rhythm completely gone—just raw, grinding need.
And of course, I’m excited when I see you around.
I pull out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach.
You don’t resist.
You just let me manhandle you, your body pliant and eager, your ass lifted for me like an offering.
What a good pet she is...
I spit on your cunt, spreading it, watching it drip down your folds.
But what kind of man would I be if I didn’t taste you?
I want my mouth all over you.
Every inch.
I slowly approach your pussy.
It smells good.
I feel its heat enveloping me and gently burning my face.
My mouth kisses it.
Savors it.
My lips move around yours.
My tongue slips out of my mouth, pushing its way into your pussy.
Sliding in, working its way all the way in.
It’s very long; it manages to reach your rubbery uterine walls.
Oh, fuck, it feels so good.
I need to bite you.
I fucking need it.
As my hands move to cup the junction of your ass and thighs, I show my teeth.
I grab your clit between them and... bite it.
Your reactions are… everything I need.
And you cum on my face.
You cum in my mouth.
You’re on my tongue.
A little essence of you.
But I want more. I want to be wrapped in you.
I slide two of my fingers inside you.
I need to feel you everywhere.
I push them all the way in, again and again, while my lips greedily suck your clitoris and my thick tongue fucks you.
My cock is completely accommodated by your pussy, so deep I feel your body shudder around me.
‘Cause my insides are red, and yours are too.
I lean over your back, my hands gripping your hips, my teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder.
Blood wells up, hot and red, and I suck it like I’m drinking from a fountain.
It all spills over my face, staining my visage of—my mask—the color of your living blood.
And the red on my face is matching you.
I pull back, leaving a ring of teeth marks.
And goodness, you’re bleeding, what a wonderful feeling!
You’re down and you’re pleading, my head is just reeling!
“Please, Pierrot— please—I’m—!”
I wrap one of my huge hands in your hair, yanking your head back as I fuck into you, my rhythm completely shattered, my whole body trembling with the effort of holding back my orgasm.
But I don’t want to come yet.
I want to stay here, in this feverish delirium of blood and your little broken moans.
Admiring your ruin at my hands.
The red means I love you.
The red means I love you.
Your hand reaches back, touching my muscular abdomen, grasping blindly for mine.
I take it, lacing our fingers together, smearing blood between our palms.
You leave me high and dry.
At the drops of blood you leave behind.
I feel you start to come undone.
Your walls flutter, clench, grip—and I know you’re close, again.
I reach around, my hand on your hip moves on your pussy, my fingers finding your clit, slick and swollen, and I press down hard, rubbing it as I keep fucking you.
“Cum for me, my Love. Please,” I growl, my teeth grazing the shell of your ear.
“Cum all over my cock, soak me in it. In you.”
Your orgasm rips through you like a speeding train: loud, violent, your whole body seizing as you scream my name.
WHAT A WONDERFUL FEELING!
Your cunt milks me, pulsing, pulling, and I can’t hold back anymore.
I bury myself as deep as I can go, my balls pressed flush against your blood-smeared skin, and I cum.
Hard.
Hot, thick, endless jets of cum flood into you, mixing with the blood and the sweat, until I’m empty and shaking, collapsed over your back.
After a while, I roll off you, pulling you into my arms, not caring about the mess.
I press a kiss to the wound on your shoulder, licking away the excess blood.
And the red on my face is matching you.
And goodness, you’re bleeding, what a wonderful feeling!!!
My hand rests over the fresh stab mark on your chest, feeling the warmth of your blood seep between my fingers.
The red means I love you!
Tasting your blood means I love you!!!
The red means I love you!!!!!!
I press my lips to your ear, my voice a hoarse, breathless whisper.
“I love you,” I murmur. “Forever.”
Even if I have to devour you… precisely because I love you.
Author’s Note: thank you for taking the time to read this story! ♡
Hope you liked it! I probably went out of character but I'm a toxic person with dark thoughts, and I really resonate with characters like Pierrot. The metaphors of violence/cannibalism and romance really suit him.
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Please do not take, repost, edit, or use them without my permission.
