#first times

“i’m just saying, you’re obviously acting like this because you’re sexually frustrated,” seungmin shovels another handful of popcorn into his mouth from the other end of the couch.

“more like sexily frustrated,” you groan, dramatically arching your back off the tub chair with the back of your hand resting on your forehead.

he scoffs, unconvinced. “you’re cute,”

“not cute enough to fuck nowadays apparently,” your sigh so loud that you can’t even hear the movie.

seungmin has never been the type to sugarcoat things: whether that required him to talk you down the phone about how ordering in your favourite chinese food didn’t do many favours about your health, or times like these where he would offer psychoanalysis, free-of-charge. you could always count of him to deliver the ugly truth. because of this, you braced yourself the second you saw him swallow his food.

“you can be self-deprecating all you want, but when has it ever been okay to lie?”

the tone of voice he uses is all but ordinary, slightly squeaky if anything. the only other thing that he’s eyeing you through the corner of his eye, but nothing that deviates from normalcy. from your perspective, his gaze flickers down to your neck and quickly shoot back to the television.

“kim seungmin, resident orgasm donor, thinks i could get it on with anyone on the street?” you chuckle, straightening your posture for some unknown reason.

when he looks back at you, he doesn’t have his usual trademark glare equipped; instead, he has this complacent smirk that he is very much aware annoys the hell out of you with narrowing eyes.

“don’t look at me like that,” you warn.

“or what?”

returning the same energy, you get up and snatch the bag of popcorn from his grasp. “i’ll show you how cute i can be,”

unfazed, he pats the vacant space beside him and lets you take a seat. “doesn’t get cuter than this,”

like clockwork, your head finds his chest, rising and falling steadily as you settle in. for a lot of friends, being this physically close together would only be warranted by a breakup, but seungmin always wanted you to know you had a shoulder to cry on or, alternatively, a chest to lay on if you needed to decompress. tonight was one of those nights where you just needed to watch one of the trashy movies that he loved and he knew that.

“scratch that, i know a way this could get cuter,” his nose is burying itself into your shoulder when the words come out, muffled against your back.

“you seem to come to unexpected revelations for a very clear-minded man,” you observantly note, fiddling with the ends of your hair absentmindedly.

“and you seem to know me inside and out for a very clueless girl,”

“right on, detective,”

“never mind, i know a way we could make this cuter,” he buries his nose behind your ear and whispers.

“you can’t fool me, minnie,”

unconvinced, he pulls back and slyly licks his lips. “is that so?”

you shoot back, “i know exactly what you sound like when you want something,”

he nods twice. “and maybe i know what it sounds like when someone’s willing to give me what i want,”

you roll your eyes. “i’m not going to be that girl for you, seung,”

“why not, baby?”

the name makes your joints stiffen. he’s never called you that before; you’re not sure if you’ve ever heard him call anyone that before.

“seungmin, you don’t seem to get it—”

“get what?” he leans forward into you and his tongue swipes the sensitive spot on your neck without any trouble. “i think i get it,”

“you do?”

“mm,” he knots his hand into your hair. “but there’s something you don’t seem to get,”

trying to maintain some semblance of lucidity under his steadily-growing boldness, you challenge him. “what could that be?”

your feigned confidence doesn’t seem to matter much as he continues sucking your skin unfazed and sinking his teeth in just to feel your body tense up. momentarily, he stops and you open your eyes to see his own, darkened with lust, hovering over you like a predator surveying its prey.

“now that you’re listening, i don’t think you know what it’s like to be fed up,”

laying there confused, you gulp.

“fed up with hearing about how close you’ve been to getting railed, only to have worn whatever skimpy dress you bought…for nothing,”

his finger traces your collarbone and trails towards the strap of your nightgown.

“fed up with these guys, not taking their chance when you of all people are ready to take them,”

involuntarily, your back arches off the couch but, instead of following through with what he wants immediately, he splays his palm against your stomach and pushes you down against the back of the settee itself. almost possessed, he slips the strap down your arm.

“it’s so infuriating, getting so close to what you want but backing out of it at the last second,” somehow, his voice is still stable when his hand finds the other strap and pulls it down. “isn’t it?”

one thing is present in your mind when his plush lips pepper kisses on the spot he had just assaulted. afraid of getting too far to alert him, you confess: “seung, i’m a virgin.”

without hesitation, he helps you down onto the cushiony seat, head resting on one of the pillows near the arm of the couch. “take this as a lesson, then, so next time you get close, you will know exactly what will happen,”

reflexively, you shut your eyes and brace yourself mentally, but you feel him coax your eyes back open with a peck on your right eyelid. “hey, hey, i’ll take care of you, okay baby?”

looking up at him, you open your mouth to say something but the sound fails to come out.

he squints down at you. “because we both know the reason you can’t get laid is because you reek of inexperience,”

you giggle, a weight coming off your chest that you didn’t even know was suffocating you. he knew how to comfort you when you felt uneasy and you knew that the one thing that was certain about him was that he would tell you the reality of your situation, even in this position.

“now, please give me permission,” he huffs.

relieved and equal parts excited, you laugh, “fine but behave or so help me god, i—”

seungmin wastes no time slamming his lips against yours, desperate and unwilling to let you finish your sentence. they drag roughly against each other and his tongue immediately seeks entrance to which you oblige. it feels as though all of the oxygen in the room has been sucked out when you try to breathe in through your nose.

continuing to coat your lips in his saliva, he uses his hands to practically tear off what remains of your nightgown, leaving you in just a lacy, non-wire bra and your panties. two of his fingers blindly search for your entrance and upon feeling the fabric, he rubs in slow, punishing circles against your throbbing sex that contrast the rapid kisses that he’s giving you at the same time.

you whimper involuntarily, eliciting what you feel to be a self-indulgent smile against your own lips from seungmin. his thumb hooks into your underwear and he pulls it down, freeing your clit off its horrible confines, using his two fingers from just a moment beforehand to feel your slit.

“shit, you’re so soaked,” he struggles to say between kisses. “you’re driving me crazy,”

not wanting to ruin the moment, you groan softly at the sensation of his fingertips grazing your clit.

“needy, are we?”

seungmin pulls back from your mouth temporarily, wetting his fingers and, finally, rubbing circles directly onto your clit. collecting more of your juices, he expertly caresses you without flinching for a second. obscene moans escape your mouth while he increases his pace.

he grunts while pulling away, “all wet just for me, jagi?”

you catch a glimpse of his glassy eyes admiring you when you’re given the chance to come up for some air. tugging at his shirt, you reply: “maybe i am, but the real question is,”

“what are you gonna do about it?”

going from 0 to 100 in mere seconds, he peels off his tee and discards it beside your head, revealing his lean figure that you always found yourself admiring, even before this moment. hungry and motivated by your mewls of pleasure, seungmin inserts his middle and ring finger inside of your hole, revelling at how you clenched around him perfectly, maintaining the pace and frequency of his circular strokes on your nub. he listens intently to how you respond under his touch, he exhales shakily with every motion and he works you open like it’s his job; it’s almost as if he had been studying you in preparation to be in this exact position. the small flicks of his fingertips against your g spot send you reeling.

your whines sound more and more incoherent while he works on drawing out the best moans he can. “seung— fuck— need you inside…”

“can you handle it?” he asks you with a concerned look on his face.

“mm, i’ll try?”

straight away, his fingers exit your hole and leave your pussy feeling empty, much to your disappointment. you close your eyes. the unmistakable clink of his belt unbuckling and landing on the carpeted floor warrants you to stare up at your friend, who has you craving his dick after you never saw him in this light before. all that is visible is the underside of his chin and angular jaw, beads of sweat pooling from his temples and down the side of his face. from what little of his face you can see, his eyes are wide open, staring at the ceiling. one may mistake his fixation on the roof as blank or uninterested, but, judging by his winded breathing and repeated expletives under his breath, he’s more than engaged.

you peek down and his hand is pumping himself from the base to the middle of his shaft. he looks down at you, irises glazed over and mouth agape. he jerks harder upon looking at you. “y/n, yeah, stay just like that,”

you obey. seeing seungmin from this point of view was the last thing you thought you were going to see tonight. i mean, he looked good from behind when you would watch him make his coffees in the morning, all broad shoulders and stupidly good posture, he looked great each time you would bury your face in his chest while watching a scary movie, but this — this was the best sight by far. his tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth, dampening the corner of his lips and his chest was rising up and down so damn fast that it looked as though he had just run a marathon.

“spread your legs for me, jagi,” he gasps, his fingers finding your slit and spreading your wet around the outside of your pussy.

you oblige, letting him inch his way forward but not before stopping him just before he was about to enter. “wait, uhm…”

“what is it?” he applies ministrations your exposed hip gently, bringing his face close to yours, giving you the ability to smell the scent his musky cologne.

“it’s just- i— maybe you do just the tip?”

something like quiet acceptance flashes across his face and he sends you a smile meant to coax you into comfort. “as long as you want it,”

you’re not sure what you feel first: it’s either your own heat swelling to a fever pitch when you feel his head against it or his lips, which are just as warm and just as wet, on your forehead giving you a kiss. when he pulls back, he’s easing the tip of his cock into you. either way, both overwhelm you simultaneously, making your head feel like it's been inflated full of helium and the only thing keeping you from floating away is his grasp on your hip.

the feeling is neither painful nor satisfying yet — you just feel full. it’s not exactly a foreign feeling, since seungmin had a tendency to bring familiarity to any situation, no matter whether or not you had been placed in that situation, but the air feels thicker than it did a minute ago.

"there you are- you're so tight, fuck- feel good?" you can tell he's trying to stay calm, but his wide-eyed stare gives him away and he has somehow managed to find you behind your eyes and bring your fuzzy vision back into focus.

you manage a strained mhm.

“god, fuck,” his breathing becomes more unstable, bringing the head of his dick inside and out of your hole. “i don’t know…”

“don’t know what?”

“if i can live up to what you want,” he crawls and flanks both sides of your naked body with his arms.

unexpectedly, he inches himself in slower, causing you to grab his forearms in discomfort, bordering pain. “seung— what the—? fuck, seungmin, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

upon feeling his member against your walls, sliding in at an excruciatingly slow pace, tears well up in the corners of your eyes. you let out a yelp and look down, his dick halfway inside of your pussy, writhing his arms in your grasp.

“i’m sorry, you said just the tip…” he pauses without knowing, pushing the rest of his length inside of you and bottoming out with a chesty grunt. “but i couldn’t help it, baby,”

despite being roommates, the arrangement was purely platonic — sans a few hugs that lingered too long and a number of incidents where you’d kiss him on the cheek or he’d do the same to your forehead. but now, in this moment, whatever ‘friendship’ you both agreed upon in the beginning was nullified, six feet below ground and five inches buried inside of your pussy; there was no way turning back.

the weirdest part was you didn’t even care.

your mind went completely blank. the only thing that could register was those lips of his, stained with the dirt of his ‘betrayal’ because, the truth is, you didn’t give a single fuck about him going against your ‘just the tip’ bullshit. maybe, just maybe, there was a part of you that actually wanted that, but forget the niceties, you were happier that he was fully inside you now rather than just sticking in the tip.

“you okay?”

“i…i think i am?” you barely make a sound with your voice, stumbling over every syllable.

“no, please, don’t lie,”

he pulls out slightly, leaving your sweet spot in desperate need of whatever his dick was doing to you a few seconds prior.

“seung,” you begin, hands reaching out towards his bangs, damp from the sweat, sweeping them up and away from his face to the best of your ability. “need you,”

his gaze softens. like a person taking pity on a stray animal in the street, he takes one of his own hands to the side of your face and tucks your hair behind one ear, then the other. seungmin always had this habit - fixing you up when you looked scruffy, as he always put it - but this gesture would now forever be tied to this specific point in time and thus ruined.

he pushes himself back inside of you, fully, much like the first time but more reluctant, as evidenced by his attentive facial expression: his lips are parted and it seems all of the blood has rushed to his ears and cock in equal parts since the former has flushed a light pink and the latter throbbing while beginning to grind against your insides in a steady rhythm.

one thing that you underestimated without realising was how loud he was going to be. i mean, he was pumping his cock in and out of you as though you were going to disappear and he only had a few minutes to finish, but you thought he could handle it. after all, it was very clear that this was not his first time. even if you couldn’t feel or see what he was doing, seungmin was open, whether it was him directly telling you or your shared wall telling you in real time in the early hours of the morning.

he’s moaning so loud that it sounds pornographic, his vocal cords straining and his jugular vein very much visible and popping out of his neck. his hips stutter with every movement, desperately trying to hold back and prolong his own orgasm to see you crumble. needless to say, you were very close yourself anyways.

with his thrusts growing more sloppy, he looks you straight in the eye. “you like that? fucking like that, pup?”

you nod, fucked-out expression on your face, bright pink cheeks and all. then it hits you.

“min, i need to finish, please…please!” you plead, approaching your unforeseen high since you could have sworn that the familiar feeling you get before you finish wasn’t present until you looked up at him, impatiently biting his lip while continuing to ogle your breasts.

when you say this, his face lights up. he smirks, low chuckle bubbling out from his throat and into the thickening air of the living room. he bends down and presses his forehead to yours, haphazardly finding your lips by way of lapping up the drool pooling from the edges of your mouth.

he swears once more under his breath and goes straight to pounding you mercilessly, christening your slit with his precum two pumps later but he still handles himself enough to delay his finish.

“you gonna be a good girl and cream for me, hm?”

he pulls back between kissing you to inhale the remaining pockets of air still available in the heat of the room. reaching down, he feels up your pussy, finally finding your bud and forcefully applying pressure to it, swollen and aching.

“show me what you got, c’mon jagi,”

you’re so damn close.

“seungmin, i’m gonna cum,” you cry, frenzied thrusts creating loud slapping sounds each time he comes down on you.

he mumbles something unintelligible but gets louder as he keeps speaking. “tell me then, who’s about to make you cum?”

he flicks your clit and pinches it between his index and ring finger, allowing his middle finger to concentrate its strength on sending you over the edge: and it does.

“tell me baby,” he resumes his thrusts to the tempo at which the words are coming out of his mouth. “who are you thinking about?”

you hold onto his back, unable to push the sound out of your throat, so you murmur: “you.”

although you’ve already closed your eyes, you guess that he’s smiling like crazy to himself, seeing you all weak under him. “say my name,”

“seung…seung…!”

“i’ll wait all day if i have to,” he (literally) grinds to a halt, suspending almost all of the pleasure you were getting minus his hand on your clit.

“seungmin,” you shudder.

“fuck, say it again,”

he begins to pick the pace back up from where he left off, setting a brutal rhythm, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. if your face wasn’t enough confirmation, you gasp, “holy shit— seungmin!

“be a good girl and say it again,”

you repeat it over and over like a prayer. with each thrust of his length driving into your pussy, you fumble for more of his torso to hold onto, but there’s only so much you can do.

“this cunt is so fucking good,”

“fuck me harder— ah, seung, seungmin…”

“filthy little mouth of yours, saying my name like you’re addicted to this cock… i bet you will be when i’m done with you,”

for the fifteenth time since you’ve started, you wonder if this is even happening.

“but i’d be a hypocrite if i said i wouldn’t feel that way about you, y/n,”

those words alone send you hurtling over the edge, your peak catapulting you into the atmosphere, the unforgiving warmth rising in crescendo. seungmin’s hips buck after another few pounds into your pussy, you feel a twitch one second and the next he’s spilling his hot seed into your womb. he fucks it into you, whispering sweet nothings as he practically collapses on top of you for a few moments, burying his cock into your sopping cunt.

silence fills the air and is intermittently interrupted by your whines and his muttering, buttery smooth, tone so sweet and hypnotic that the current placement of your bodies on one another feels inescapable. you’re still clamping down on seungmin’s dick like a vice when he makes a half-hearted attempt to ease himself out, but he gives up for a millisecond. finally, he pulls out, his base and all the way up his shaft an angry red.

subdued by the pleasure you stay put as he brings his briefs back up and ties the drawstring of his sweatpants. your eyes flutter shut for just a moment, but a warm palm behind your head guides you to an upright position. seungmin takes one of the cushions that was shoved to the floor in the heat of the situation and puts it behind your head.

he shoots you a smile, familiar and gentle. “wait here, i’ll get you some water, stay.”

not long after he’s walked out of the room, he returns, glass of water in hand and a small towel thrown over his shoulder. you get up slowly, frail legs shaking at the knee, but seungmin shakes his head in his distinct seungmin way and cups his hand under your chin while he lets you take small sips from the cup.

“y/n, i hope this doesn’t change how you see me,”

you’re uncertain of what emotion you feel after he says that. relieved, maybe a tad bit disappointed, you reply, “nothing would change that, minnie, believe me,”

“is it weird to take back what i just said?”

“what?”

he sighs, laying a blanket over your body and tucking himself in next to you. “i just mean that…”

“i want something to change. in a way that may ruin whatever it is we had before and hopefully— like i swear to god if this goes wrong— replace it with something more?”

like a reflex, your mind goes back to a few seconds before to no moment in particular and you can’t help but bring up the elephant in the room. “are you asking me out, asshat?”

amused, he snickers and presses his nose into your hair.

“well, i wasn’t exactly expecting a ‘wow, i’d love to go out on a date with you, my sweet handsome roommate kim seungmin’, but i guess i’ll take it,”

he starts to slip his hand under the blanket and wipes your inner thighs clean when you retort. “i didn’t even say yes,”

his eyes roll so far back into his head you’re scared that they’ll stay stuck there.

“hearing you say those words is no different than if you were to start running around this apartment waving flags around naked,”

“you know me so well—”

“—asshat,” he cuts you off cheekily.

you open your mouth to protest, but he interrupts once more.

“oh but you love it, don’t you, jagi?”

wow isn’t minnie a sly little shit damn

dividers: @cursed-carmine

Shooting up you squint at the floating glowing hearts. You stand slowly, still very unsure if this is something you should entertain. But your feet seem to have decided for you as you find yourself looking up at the Pierrot yet again. The barrier seemed inadequate when he pressed a hand against the glass. You stare at it like it held all the answers. But upon actually looking? You raised a hand, tracing your pointer finger over his fingers, it was so much bigger than you thought. You slowly press your whole hand against his, comparing the two. Seeing how the tips of your fingers just barely grazed his second knuckle, the claw making it that much longer. 

After staring at his hand for far too long and realizing he has definitely caught you, your hand retreated, glancing at the lock and seriously debating your life choices you risk a glance up. 

He was a lot closer than before, his mask now resting on the glass, eyes still the pulsing hearts, a deep blush covered his cheeks. You could barely make out his open mouth, his panting having fogged up the glass. You should shut the blinds, walk away, try and forget the man…? At your door. But look at him. He wouldn’t hurt you, would he? He sure seemed to hang on every little thing you did. And he claimed that kidnapping was his way of protecting you. Maybe he just had a very twisted way of showing his affection. Your eyes wander towards the bloody rose on your nightstand, long since turned brown but your macabre heart only beats faster.

Fine, it’s not like you’d forgive yourself if you lost this chance. You flick the lock and pull the door open before you could change your mind. Pierrot almost toppled in, barely catching himself before he fell into you. But that did not stop his hands from immediately finding you. One hand on your shoulder, the other curling around your waist.

“My lady, my star, I didn’t mean to interrupt but you just looked so beautiful.”

“I thought I was going to be alone tonight” his eyes shrunk.

“I can leave if thats what you wish-”

“No I didn’t say that. I was just surprised. A little confused, maybe?”

“About what, My Lady? I’ll answer anything you wish”

“I can’t quite decide whether you want to like, eat me, or eat me. Or if I have it all wrong to begin with.” A long pause filled the space between you two. 

“Eat you?” his head tilt made puppies jealous. The longer he thought about it the more conflicted he seemed. 

“Yea, you seem very interested in me, my uh scent? Or at least that's what I gathered from you sniffing me every chance you get…” as your mind tried to supply you with words to ask if you’d survive the experience without actually telling him that you thought he might actually eat you. The joking tilt to your question fizzled out when Pierrot remained silent. 

After a beat longer than you could stand you force out a dry chuckle. Clearly you had gone about this wrong. Maybe it was salvageable? You watched his face slowly start to shift from confusion to intrigue to concern. 

“Do you want me to eat you, My lady?” His rough voice sent shivers straight down your spine and for a moment the question didn’t register. Until it did and your face exploded with color. 

“Well- I uh.. I just meant..uhm I don’t know!” throwing your hands up and then dragging them down your heated face. Taking a couple steps back until your legs hit the mattress, allowing yourself to fall backwards onto the duvet. A groan slipped between your fingers as embarrassment flooded your system. A moment later there was a dip on the bed next to you. Followed by a feather light touch, just a couple fingers circling your wrist. He gently pulled your hand away from your face and you could see how concerned he had become. 

Alright then, it's time to face the music. Your pride now thoroughly ruined, you decide being blunt may be your only salvation. Your doubts about how human he was were gone, there's no way that a human man his age would have struggled so much with those jokes. In that realization lied a hint to your earlier question…would he actually eat you?

“Alright, bad jokes I guess.” You take a deep breath, if he was going to eat you, wouldn’t he have done it when you were drugged and chained in that tent? Right, he would have done it already. With that small bit of hope, you continued. 

“I guess I was trying to ask which of your…imuplses were stronger. Your lust, or your hunger” the last word barely made it past your lips. But he heard them, the second it left you his grip on your wrist tightened. It wasn’t painful but you could feel the tips of his claws pressing into your skin. A sigh left as you glanced down at the glove clad hand, your free hand reaching out for him. Time to face the music. 

“I- I know you’re not human.. That the circus is more than just a show, an act. I think I’ve known for a while.” You pause feeling Pierrot start to shake. Taking a deep breath you look at him, his pupils nothing more than slits, shaking in time with the rest of him.

“I want you anyway. I want it all, the darkness, the possessive glances, the shadows that seem to follow me. I want your hands on me, I want your warmth, your silence, your protection.” another pause. “I want your mark, I want to be yours” 

Watching his face as you spoke was a reward itself. His pupils slowly grew, the shaking slow but never stopped. The longer your list became the heavier his breath seemed to become. Upon mentioning his mark his entire demeanor changed. One moment you were laying on your bed looking up at him, hands interlocked. The next? He was on top of you, knees on either side of your thighs. His hands now laced into yours, pinning you against the mattress. 

“You should not say such things, My Star. I don’t know if I can control myself” the heart shaped pupils tracked every little movement you made, intentional or not. Like a predator who finally, finally has its prey between its teeth. Your earlier thoughts of racing into this too fast are long gone as you whisper your last desire. 

“I want you to take me with you when you go.” Given who you just whispered that to, it could be misconstrued. There are more morbid ways of carrying someone with you, one that the circus seem to be well versed in. You held your breath, this is it. Are you going to be eaten? Or cherished. 

“Truly?” Pierrot was now a hairs breath away from your lips, absolute torture for your touch deprived head. 

“Please.” It came out with a sigh and that was it. He finally closed the distance, the mask he wore still colder than flesh but the heat of his blush had seeped through. In an effort to touch him, you try to pull your hands from his grasp. Instead of releasing your hands he pulled away, pulling a whine from your lips. The sound was almost enough to pull him back in but he had something he needed to say. 

“If I take you with me, you can never come back. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go. My lady please be sure. I will take care of everything, we can find you a job at the circus..and act perhaps or maybe my assistant?”

“The last ‘assistant’ I saw ended up with a blade between their eyes, Pierrot” whilst you didn’t spend nearly enough time thinking about the “murder” that had taken place in his act, you still knew deep in your bones that the fool had been killed. 

Pierrots little furrow returned, along with a tiny frown you wanted to kiss away. 

“I would never hurt you, My Love. I would sooner turn my blade unto myself” He seemed genuinely seemed distraught by the idea. 

“No, I just meant that your acts, along with Jesters’ and Harles’. They all end with some poor fool lying in a pool of blood…” He seemed to realize then that you had put two and two together. You knew they killed people for entertainment, and you were still beneath him pondering roles you could fill. The whole situation filled him with a heat he couldn’t ignore anymore.

“You are truly a rare gem, My Lady. If you wish for a job I shall find you one. Everything you wish, My Love.” At that he lowered his head until his mouth was lined up with your ear, his breath sending delicious little shivers down your spine. His tongue then traced a line up your neck, following your jawline. You could feel his smile grow against your skin. 

“Pierrot-” you whine at him. He’s so slow, n smelt so so good. Every nerve was singing, begging for attention. There was still so much to discuss but it was becoming impossible for you to think about anything other than Pierrot. His long fingers still laced between yours, his body hovering over your own. His heavy breathing in your ear, the now cooling trail he left on your neck. Too much. Not enough. 

“Pierrot please, please just touch me.” it came out whiner than you wanted but it served its purpose as he took a sharp inhale. Seconds later your hands were free as his own raced to tear your shirt apart. Desperate to fulfill a request you made what feels like ages ago. As soon as your skin was exposed he started mouth at your collarbone, his teeth scratching against the delicate skin. 

“My Lady you said you wanted my mark, were you- may I?” his words were starting to slur together, you could feel his drool drippping down your chest. You look down to see his love struck eyes already staring at you. Well, you did ask for it didn’t you? 

“Be honest, how bad will it hurt?” you hoped that was enough of a yes, your nerves choking off the simple word.  You had already decided on receiving it ever since Harle claimed the side of your neck. It had hurt but only for a moment and when Pierrot had seen it yesterday he had asked to cover it but your nerves for the upcoming night had pushed him away. You started to regret that as soon as the words left you but the damage had been done, and Pierrot had bounded off to find the green clown. 

“Oh, my sweet’ I’ll be as gentle as I can…I can finally cover his horrid mark” his voice sounded shaky, like he was holding back but only by a thread. The area was still pretty tender from the still healing mark but he seemed set on covering it. with a sigh you turned your head, allowing him access to the mark. You could hear a quick inhale and then the sharp sting of his teeth penetrated the irritated skin around Harles’ bite. 

As quickly as he had started he retreated. just enough to lave the new wound with his tongue. When he did finally pull back he was licking the last bit of your blood off his teeth. His eyes locked with the mark, high enough that you couldn’t see it yourself without a mirror but you could feel it. He didn’t stare for long, moving on to the other side. One of his massive hands slide from your waist up. He was gentle with the movement, moving up until his claws scratched up the back of your neck. Tangling his fingers in your hair he tilted your head until the expanse of your neck was completely bare to him. 

He took a moment to drag his tongue over his canvas before sinking his teeth in. Once, twice, after each bite he cleaned the mark and planted a single kiss over it. It felt almost like a ritual, the sting, the careful cleaning and sealed with his kiss. It was easy to lose yourself in the pattern. The rush of endorphins makes your head spin. 

With your hands free and mind free of concerns you trace Pierrots’ arms, up to his back, down his spine. Anywhere you could reach. You kept your touch gentle but you could feel him shiver all the same. It dawned on you that he was still clothed.. You were mostly clothed but it still didn’t feel fair. 

“Pierrot” other words felt too far away, but you didn’t need other words with him, did you? 

He paused right before claiming another part of your skin, 

“My dearest? Are you alright?” he was looking up at you now, you hadn’t realized how far down your chest he had gotten. Concern was etched into his face, and you could already see his mind racing. 

“Shirt, your shirt. Off now please?” yea who needed complete sentences anyway. His eyes lit up with the realization but quickly dimmed. He abandoned your chest to sit up, looking down at you.

“My lady, I am not…it might be best for my clothes to remain on.”

Ugh you needed full sentences. “How will I mark you if you’re completely covered?” it was definitely whiny and maybe a tad desperate but it worked. Pierrot immediately set to work on his costume. First his ruff*, as it came off he tossed it over his shoulder.Along with his belt and finally his shirt. He unlaced the front and as it came apart you were blessed with his toned pale torso. It was littered with pale scars, some reminded you of the knives he handled at work. You sat up a little, propping yourself up with one arm behind you. You traced over some of the more troubling scars. 

Thick raised welts, some in sets of 3 or 4, some just standing alone. They looked more like an animal had put them there. You were so focused on studying him that you hadn’t noticed how still he had become. Your eyes traveled down, this was not the time or place to ask him about his scars. Besides there were more uh, pressing matters at hand. Such as the deep v line and silver happy trail leading towards a jaw dropping bulge that you somehow managed to miss before. 

You let your fingers trace down the coarse hair until you reached the waistband, slipping your fingers underneath before looking up at him. You might've broken him, he stared down at you like he was seeing you again for the first time. Maybe he was, you were bare underneath him, littered in his marks and your own hand slipping into his pants. He seemed to be holding his breath, pupils tiny hearts as they jumped all over your figure. Trying to figure out what to do next. 

“You’re breathtaking Pierrot” It came with your exhale, apparently you were also holding your breath. “Stunning, you work so hard.” each word went directly to his dick, you could see it twitch with the praise. Part of you wondered if you could get him off like that, just whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Unraveling him with your words alone, but as tempting as that sounded…

“Pants too?” His head snapped up so fast that the bells on his hat let out their own quick protest. You had wondered about that but when you had attempted to touch it before it resulted in the current situation you’re in. but with pants. That you desperately needed off him. 

His hand came down, a gentle tug that pulled your fingers away. Huffing you took to unbuttoning your own pants, tugging the zipper down, showcasing just a sliver of your underwear. Nothing fancy but he didn't seem to mind. His face exploded with color, both hands now wrapped around your waist as he stared at the fabric. His own fingers decided to slip under the waistband, he glanced up at you as if asking permission. 

“only if yours comes off after” you flicked one of his bells trying to loosen some of the nerves threatening to swallow you whole. It seemed to do the trick as you were pushed back onto the bed. Your pants and underwear were ripped from your body and tossed behind the monster. A small squeal left your lips as you snapped your thighs shut, hands coming down to cover yourself. A silly instinct considering how bare your chest was but oh well. 

“My lady, please dont hide from me, you’re so perfect, so beautiful, so mine” he was panting between his words. He had lowered his head to your tummy, looking up at you with the most pitiful expression. 

“I told you, yours have to come off too” You were pouting but it gave you a moment to gather your strength. He quickly stood and shed everything but his giant hat. 

“Are you going to keep that on when you fuck me?” that was supposed to be an inside thought damnit. He had returned to his place between your legs and tilted his head at you. said hat jingling as if they answered for him. 

“I do not think it is wise for me to remove it, my Dear” 

“Pierrot, I already know you’re not human. You don't have to hide from me.” He pondered your words for a moment before bending over you. His voice sounded deeper when he spoke next.

“Are you sure? My Lady, I’m not sure I can let you go if you run from me” Oh he was being serious wasn't he. You decided that the throb the words gave you wasn't to be thought about and instead nodded up at him with a smile. 

“i’m starting to think you already want me to run” He huffed at you, pouting.

“If you insist My Dear, I will remove it but I did warn you.” his hands shook just enough for you to notice when he pulled the hat free.

It took everything in you not to gasp as 3 shiny black horns came into view. You slid a hand up his torso until your fingers reached the soft hairs on the back of his next. You pulled him closer so you could reach, tracing your free hand over the ridges of an outer horn. He let out a low groan while his entire body shivered.

“Careful, please my Lady.. I am sensitive there”

“Does it hurt?” 

“n-no just…its just” He never finished the sentence, just pushed his hips to yours. slapping a giant reminder of what else he had just revealed to you. Pushing him back slightly you look down at the massive cock now resting on your tummy. 

Your eyes follow the silver trail down to the untamed bush. a thick pale shaft, curved up with bumps lining the bottom. It was almost as long as your forearm and you know that if you wrapped your hand around it, your fingers wouldn’t touch. The fat tip was a light orange, almost gold as you watch a drop of what looked like honey drip out. before you could process what you were doing you swiped the drop up with your thumb before running your tongue over it. Definitely not honey but oddly sweet. like salted caramel with more salt. 

  “Did you just, My lady I-” Oh sweet Pierrot, rather innocent for a monster but it was absolutely adorable. 

“You taste so sweet Pierrot, I could get addicted.” an exaggeration, probably. All the air seemed to rush out of him as he curled in on himself a little. 

“You should not say such things” His voice was shaky but was dripping in something that made your entire body hot. Your own body prepping, dripping down between your thighs. With Pierrot being so close to it, you couldn’t help but hold your breath. He took a long breath in and a second later he had his massive hands prying your thighs apart. 

“My turn~” he all but growled at you. Before you could respond you watched his mask crack open and his long golden tongue slide out. His drool was on your skin before he actually made contact, it pooling a little over the seam. He dragged his tongue over the line, opening you for his attention. The reaction was immediate, the tip starting at your opening and collecting the slick dripping down. He hummed at the taste and he continued dragging his tongue up until it flicked over your clit. Your entire body jolted at the quick movement. 

“Pierrot-  gentle there please” followed by a whimper just fueled him. He circled the tiny bud with the tip of his appendage for a moment, watching you lose your breath. Just as your hand reached down to push, or maybe pull at him? His head moved. A slow trail back down to your dripping entrance before he slipped inside. He pushed deeper until he reached your cervix, letting his obnoxiously long tongue curl up a little before pulling it free. 

“I think I understand now, My lady” 

“U-understand?” Why was he talking? You didn’t take Pierrot to be a tease. 

“You want me to eat you” His tone had turned dark enough to sharpen your focus. 

“Just don’t..hurt me” what else could you have said? His eyes darkened when he realized that you had been hurt just like he had. 

“My lady, you are mine, you will always be mine. I would never hurt you. I will spend every waking moment to prove that to you. I only wish to protect you, to keep you close. So I can watch you, keep all the dangers away. Keep you safe.” His words settled over you like a blanket. He was crazy, but so were you. Fuck it.

“Then eat me” a delirious little giggle followed as Pierrot fell to his knees between your legs. Your knees resting on his shoulders as he pulled you to his mouth. He was big enough that you could feel his teeth resting on the top of your mound as his tongue started fucking into you. He could bite down and take it all in one go, he could do so so much damage. But instead he’s rubbing his tongue over your walls, it was a slow pace until he found a small spongy spot and your back arched up. A small whine left your lips as he focused on the spot. Curling his tongue a little so he could press it up against the spot. Over and over again. 

You hands found purchase in his hair, your hips bucking up into his mouth. You could feel a small ball of heat forming, growing bigger and tighter until it became too much. 

“P-Pierrot im gonna, wait Pier-” As soon as you started speaking he applied a little more pressure and the knot snapped. You hands pulling at him a little as your thighs tried to close. You could feel your walls spasming around him as your vision whited out for a moment. You floated in bliss for who knows how long until the sensations started to become too much. Pulling you back down into your body you started pushing at Pierrots head. 

“Too much, Pierrot please” it took a couple pleas before he let go of your pulsing sex. 

“You taste absolutely divine, My dear.” Pierrot looked drunk on lust, his head now resting on your tummy, looking up at you with complete and utter adoration. You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. You were still coming down from your high when he stood up, he scooped you up and moved you up until you were laying with your head on your pillows. Once you were situated he moved. Positioning himself between your legs, placing his member on your abdomen, showcasing how deep he would be inside you. 

“You’ll go slow right? You’re so.. I don’t know if I can take all of you” Your concerns were written all over your face. 

“Just tell me to stop and I will My Star, I promise” Your opening was already soaked, between his drool and your cum you would be fine but it was still daunting. His pre was covering him, it was dripping like molasses down his shaft. Part of you(a pretty big part) wanted to lick it up but instead you reached down and pressed his tip against your entrance. 

“Slowly” It was meant to sound stronger than it did, but Pierrot listened anyway. Lightly rocking his hips and applying the slightest hint of pressure. For a little thats how it went, he pushed forward, just enough for your body to give a little then let up before pressing forward a little more. Up until the head pop in and both of you gasped. You had never been stretched this wide before, and now that he was in? You didn’t know if he’d be able to pull back out. But he did try to continue his pattern of push and release. 

But this time he couldn’t pull back at all. His breath caught when he tried again and you legs came around him, pulling him closer. And in turn forcing him deeper inside. The stretch burned just enough to have tears pool, and of course he noticed immediately. Freezing and rushing to wipe your tears away, leaving little kisses all over your face. You’re sure that he’s trying to apologize and the distraction was most welcome but you needed more. You slid a hand down between your bodies and circled your clit with two fingers. Breathing through the tight feeling in your abdomen.  Pierrot pulled away to watch you work, your face slowly relaxing as pleasure took over the stretch. You pulled him a little closer and he slid deeper without the sudden cramping. As if realizing why he swatted your hand away and replaced it with his own. His claw brushing over the hood as the pad of his finger pressed down and started moving in little circles like you had done. 

A sigh left you as you focused on breathing and pulling him deeper. You could feel him leaking inside and for a brief moment you wondered if a baby was a risk, surely not though..right? The thought was tossed aside when you felt Pierrot's bush pressed against you. A deep groan rumbled through Pierrot as he ground his hips, trying to bury himself deeper inside you. You looked down to see the smallest bump right over where he was buried. Without thinking you pressed a hand against it, the pressure pulling a moan out of the beast. And when he looked down and saw the outline of himself inside you? He may have gotten harder, if it were possible. But there was one change that needed to be mentioned.

“Pierrot~ did you just get..thicker?” You had thought you had taken all of him, but with another roll of his hips he managed to bury a little more inside. You tried to sit up a little, needing to see for yourself but Pierrot just pressed you back down. He started rocking his hip, just barely pulling out before pushing back in. He lowered his head, a hand returning to your hair. He pulled your head to the side and after running his tongue up the length of your neck he finally answered you. 

“My Knot, My lady” He said it like it was completely normal. He followed it with a bite, returning to his earlier pattern. Bite, lick, kiss. But the bites were getting a little deeper, his tongue spending just a little longer on the little cuts, multiple little kisses over the mark before moving on. He littered your chest and neck with marks, over your shoulders and you could feel each one thrumming with energy. He latched onto a nipple and his long tongue wrapped around it, flicking over the bud until it was stiff and standing proud before moving onto the next. You were losing your mind over the inhumane pleasure you were feeling. 

The longer he went the faster his hips moved, one hand on your waist, holding you in place as his thrusts started pushing you up the mattress. You had all but lost consciousness. He was stuffing full, more than you thought physically possible but here you were. The bump on your tummy became more prominent with each thrust and your little gasps and moans were only spurring him on. 

“My Lady, My dear, you feel so good, so perfect. My perfect love, all mine” Pierrot started rambling on whilst the knot started to get bigger. Each thrust pushed it further against your opening, he paused there pushing a little. Trying to carve himself a little deeper inside. You couldn’t do anything but take it. The hand buried in your hair started to tighten, his claws grazing the back of your neck sending shivers down your spine. The hand on your waist moved back down to your clit, when did he stop that? Maybe you were further gone than you thought. Your train of thought crashed when he started up with quick little circles, your walls spasmed and you’re sure anyone nearby heard the cry that escaped you. 

Above you Pierrot lost it. Letting go of your hair he grabbed the headboard, the wood splintering under his grip. He watched as you cream over his cock, his hips jerked, pushing pushing until your spasming walls opened enough to allow his knot to pop. All the air from your lungs rushed out when he finally slid home. Letting out what almost sounded like a howl and the knot started swelling. You could feel the heat filling your womb as he came, it was so so hot, spreading warmth throughout your whole body. The bump now solid as his cum filled every bit of space inside you and then some. 

Whining you reached up to try and pull him down into a kiss, the feeling became a little uncomfortable. It took a couple tries as he was locked onto the bump on your tummy. He brought a hand down and pressed on it a little, you let out a little moan and his eyes shot up to your face. 

“Full” was all you offered him. A grin spread across his face. Now that you could take a moment to look at him he was a mess. His hair was sticking out in places from your hands, his heart eyes in full swing. The blush that painted his face crept down his neck, along with a singular track of drool. 

“No one will touch you now, you have my mark, inside and out.” He bent back over you, breathing heavy. 

“Just one more thing, My love” as soon as the words left him he latched onto the space between your neck and collarbone. He bit down, harder than any of his other bites. You couldn’t help but hiss, his tongue was soothing the area inside the bite but the longer he held the further his teeth sunk. You tugged a little on his hair, trying to pull him off but he sank in deeper A flash of fear shot through you, just as you started to panic he pulled away. The wound was deep enough to scar, blood immediately welling up. Pierrot licked it all away, then laid kisses over the mark. He had  blood smeared over his lips when he pulled back. 

“There, this one won’t fade like the others, this one will stay with you” You didn’t know what to say, every inch of you was throbbing. Covered in bites and the pulsing knot still lodged inside was not letting you think properly. Pierrot seemed content though, he slowly moved the two of you until you were laying on top of him. He pulled the covers over your conjoined bodies and pressed you closer to him. 

The two of you laid there like that for a while, catching your breath and just feeling him inside you. 

“Pierrot? When will it uh, when will it go down?” it had been at least 15 minutes and you were still locked together. You didn’t mind being this close to him but the pool of cum sitting inside you was becoming uncomfortable, with you on your stomach and all. 

“It will stay until you are bred” another statement delivered like it was normal, but when you looked up he was panting, surly imagining you swollen with his child. 

“Can I even? You know, since were not really the same?” you whispered the last part, not wanting to say it at all. 

“I don’t know, but I won’t stop until you are.” As hot as that sounded, it also sounded like a threat. You heaved a sigh and tried to tug yourself free. If he was going to keep you like this for a while, at least you could shower right? The two of you were covered in sweat, tears, cum and blood. The knot gave just enough to give you hope but it was too big to pull free without pain. Pierrot whimpered underneath you, his hands pulling you back down onto him.

“I just want to shower, My love. We both need to.” He just stared at you with those pleading eyes. You just rolled yours. “You can fill me again after a shower and some food… and maybe a nap” there was a deep ache that started to settle over your bones. How late was it? It was already dark when Pierrot arrived. You looked behind you to see the sun peaking out. Well… at least you had today off. 

You looked back down at him to see him pouting, but his knot did seem to go down some. Maybe it was like an erection, non-sexy things to make it go down. Whatever, you tried to lift your hips again, the knot slipping a little further out. As the widest part caught at the rim you whined. Pierrot tried to push you back down but you held strong. 

“No no it’s ok, just hold on” Your legs shook as you tried to hold still while your body struggled to let go. With one finally push upwards you were free. You fell forward, Pierrot slipping out of your abused hole, his cum slowly following suit. 

Pierrot got up then, picking you up and placing you back on the bed for a moment. 

“I’ll start a bath for us, My lady” 

As you watched his form disappear in the bathroom you felt just how much he came, it was pooling between your thighs. At the risk of your bedsheets you spread your thighs to see creamy gold tinged strings connecting your thighs. Thick and sticky, and pooling onto your sheets. That was definitely going to stain. You watched it dripped and a thought occurred then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you ran your finger over your thigh, collecting some before sucking it clean. Like his pre, it was sweet but this had a more heady taste. Almost intoxicating. A groan came from the doorway and your head shot up. 

There Pierrot stood, having watched you taste his spend for the second time this evening. The embarrassment flooded your face but you offered no explanation. In fact, just for kicks. You swiped two fingers through it again. Taking your time with licking them clean, maintaining eye contact with the clown. For a moment he just stood there, watching like it was the most important thing in this world. Whilst it was fun to mess with him, as you chuckled you felt another rush of cum exit. It was definitely time for a bath. 

You made a move to stand and Pierrot rushed over, sweeping you up into his arms before carrying you into the bathroom. He set you down on the counter and took a wet cloth and started wiping at the sticky cum that was starting to dry on your skin. He was gentle with his movements but when he reached your opening you still hissed at the contact. 

“I am sorry, My lady. I did not mean to hurt you” You could see the guilt start to wash over his face.

“No, I’m just sensitive, and cold. Can we get in now?” the tub was already filled with steaming water, he must have found your bubble soap bc the tub had mountains of the lavender smelling suds. Next to it was a small plate, it had crackers, some grapes and water. You tried to snatch the bottle while he carried you over to the tub but Pierrot was too tall so you settled for waiting. He slowly stepped into the tub with you still in his arms. 

The water was hot enough to sooth the ache and when Pierrot settled behind you and grabbed the bottle you had reached for you decided you didn’t need bones anymore. You melted into Pierrots chest as he held the bottle to your lips. You took it from him then. When you handed it back he replaced it with a grape. Feeding you whilst whispering little praises in your ear. Promises to keep you safe, to love you. Feeling completely safe, warm and cared for in his arms you decided to trust that. Whatever happened, he’d never hurt you. 

You were shaking so much, Caleb had to stop multiple times just to ask if you were okay. And now you were lying flat on your back, face flushed.

"We really don’t have to, if you don’t want to," he murmured, his breath uneven and shaky.

You shook your head. "I want to do this." You carefully pulled an arm around his neck and tugged him close, kissing him, still shaking. "I've wanted this for so long."

Caleb let out a soft whine. "I've wanted this too." He kissed you harder, his hands wandering restlessly. "More than you know."

"I'm just nervous," you breathed, bringing your other hand around his back.

"I promise I'll take care of you."

You sighed, subtly pushing up against him. "I know you will."

"Yeah?" Caleb pulled back, his heart thudding wildly in his chest. And when you nodded, he bit his lip to keep the pathetic little sound that tried to crawl up.

"Okay." He gently shifted over you, pulling a condom out of his drawer before sitting back on his heels in front of you.

Then he paused.

He swallowed hard, the tips of his ears burning red. "Uh.. can you.. look away for a sec?"

You felt a furious blush creep across your cheeks before you nodded and slapped your hand over your face. "Yes!" you breathed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

Except you did.

You couldn't help yourself.

This was your first time seeing Caleb like this, seeing anyone like this. And Caleb—God, Caleb was so handsome. So beautiful. You wanted to absorb every line of his body—burn it into your mind because it was all for you.

But you couldn't blame him for asking you to look away.

You were the one still in a loose shirt because you were too scared to take it off. And Caleb didn't even question you. Just pressed a small kiss to your forehead and nodded when you asked if you could keep it on.

Caleb shifted over you, settling between your thighs again when he finally slipped his condom on.

"Okay, you can look now."

You slowly drew your hand back, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. "Okay.. I'm ready. I think."

Caleb nodded, a stuttered little laugh slipping past his lips. "Okay.." With a shaky hand, he wrapped his hand around himself and nudged himself at your entrance.

It was small. Barely a little poke.

But you still yelped, the sound making Caleb jerk back. "W-what? Did I hurt you?"

You quickly shook your head, grabbing the corner of the blanket and pulled it over your mouth. "No! Sorry, it's just so new. It feels weird.."

Caleb's lips twisted into an embarrassed frown. "Bad weird?"

"No!" you repeated. "Good weird. I wanna feel it. Feel you."

Oh, God. You couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth.

"I'm sorry I'm so nervous." You shifted under him, subtly rolling your hips against him as if to prove that you still wanted it.

Caleb grunted, his hand tightening around the sheets beside your head as he leaned back in, trying guide himself in again. "It's okay."

Slowly, he pushed in. It was slow and careful. But the minute he stopped moving, he slipped out.

Caleb bit his lip. "Shit. Sorry."

You shook your head. "It's fine."

You thought you heard Caleb grumbling something about how it wasn't fine before he was pushing in again. Slow again, the pressure making your back arch off the bed.

Then he slipped out. Again.

Caleb made a small, frustrated noise, his cheeks burning red. "Sorry. I—I don't know why it won't stay in."

Your face flushed. Not because he couldn't do it, but because you just laid there and watched him. Didn't offer help. Nope. Just laid there all pretty and nervous.

Apparently people helped their partners during... this, but how were you supposed to when you weren't even sure where he was supposed to go?

"It's okay. I promise," you assured, voice a little shaky.

Caleb tried again. And again, it didn't work. He groaned, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I don't—I don't know why—"

You gently wrapped your arms around him and rubbed your hands over his back. "We don't have to do anything."

Caleb breathed heavily, like he almost couldn't handle the embarrassment burning in his veins. "I want to. I really want to—I just can't—"

You gently nudged him back and cupped his face, a smile instantly breaking across your face when you saw his cute little pout and the frustrated, angry furrow of his brows.

"What?" Caleb whined. "Don't laugh."

"I'm not laughing. You're just so cute."

Caleb huffed, burying his face back in your neck. "I'm cute when I'm completely miserable and embarrassed?"

You giggled softly. "Really cute."

He tried to feign annoyance, but you could feel the smile tugging at his lips against your skin. "Can we try again...? With.. you on top?"

You bit your lip, your eyes big and soft as Caleb pulled back to look at you. "Yeah," you murmured.

You two shifted awkwardly before you were finally on top of him, shirt barely covering your hips as you hovered over him.

You nervously reached down, keeping him still as you took him. It was barely anything, just the tip, but you instantly felt the unfamiliar pressure again.

"I don't know if I'm doing this right," you breathed as you slowly sank the rest of the way. At least you thought you were. Or maybe you were doing it wrong...?

"Am I hurting you?"

Caleb shook his head, his hands tightening on your waist as you took him inch by inch. "No—fuck—no, you're not hurting me. You're doing it just right."

When he finally hilted in you, you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut.

Caleb swallowed hard, giving a weak nod in response. "Are you okay?"

You could only nod.

"I don't—I'm not gonna last long."

Caleb let out a stuttered breath as you rocked your hips. He'd imagined this moment hundreds of times. Had come apart with nothing but the thought of you. But nothing could've prepared him for this. For how amazing you felt.

"Pips..!" He gripped your waist tight, his voice cracking with the effort of holding back a moan.

"I'm sorry," you blurted, even when everything in you begged to move again. Just a little. To feel that new sensation.

Caleb grit his teeth. "'S'fine. You just.. feel nice."

Your chest swelled at his praise. "So I can move?"

"Yes—" he choked out. "Yeah, you can move."

At his permission, you slowly pulled off—just a little, barely even halfway—then sank back down. You winced, unsure if it was pressure or nerves or both.

You weren't used to the stretch. Weren't used to the slow burn in your belly every time he moved inside you. But you didn't want to stop. You couldn't. Not when he looked like that. Not when he sounded like that.

He was just so... good.

Head tilted back, eyes fluttered shut. Moans spilling past his lips like he just couldn't help it.

You went slow at first. Just giving experimentally little bounces, your lips parted with small gasps. It was uncomfortable—hurt, just a little. Then, when it started to feel good, you moved faster.

Caleb sighed beneath you, his hands fisting in your shirt as you slowly rode him.

"Feels—hah—s'nice.." His legs tensed up as he met your slow thrusts, gripping you tighter to gently guide you on top of him.

Caleb wasn't even fully aware that he was doing it; he was sloppy. Uncoordinated. Both of you were. You couldn't properly time your downward thrusts with his, but that didn't stop you. Didn't stop him either.

You were both a mess of whiny pants and incoherent words. The soft sound of skin against skin filled the room. It felt obscene. You'd heard that noise before, you just never thought you'd be the one making it.

"Fuck—wait—wait, I—" Caleb bit his lip, but it didn't stop the raspy little whimper that slipped out. "Pips, I'm—"

Then he was coming.

His whole body tensed beneath you, his arms locking around your waist and pulling you down to bury his face in your neck.

"Wait... Caleb, did you..?"

He clung to you like a second skin, broken little moans spilling past his lips. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to—I didn't think—God, I'm sorry."

You blinked, slowly bringing your hand around the nape of his neck and stroking the small hair there. "It's okay," you murmured. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Caleb whined, snuggling into you. "I was supposed to make you feel good."

"You did."

Caleb didn't say anything. Just let out a quiet huff and pressed closer.

"Let's just stay here and cuddle.. Yeah?"

Caleb nodded, letting you pull back to crawl off of him. He flushed, a stuttered gasp tumbling past his lips as he watched himself slip out of you. It wasn't fair. He should've lasted longer.

He reached for the condom, then paused. He swallowed hard, glancing back up at you. "Can you.. look away again?"

You nodded, sinking down into the mattress and looking the other way. Caleb shifted beside you. You heard a quiet groan, then the plastic bag of his trashcan crinkled. A little more shuffling, then he was curling his hand around your waist and tugging you close.

"I'm sorry."

You smiled, happily turning to face him and melting into his chest. "Stop apologizing. I promise it's okay."

Caleb hummed, resting his chin on your head. "I can try again in a few minutes."

"Caleb, you really don't—"

"Please? Let me make you feel good."

You smiled. "Okay."

—

taglist <- if u want to be added

And unfortunately, horribly, unfairly—he keeps looking at you.

Not glancing.

Not flirting politely.

Looking.

At galas, his gaze finds you over champagne flutes and glittering shoulders. At charity dinners, he appears beside you just as some donor corners you with a question you don’t want to answer. At Wayne Foundation events, he remembers your drink, your schedule, the name of your supervisor, the fact that you hate being called “ambitious” like it’s a warning.

He never crowds. Never pushes.

He simply arrives.

A hand at the small of your back, warm but not possessive.

A low voice at your ear. “You looked like you needed rescuing.”

“You always this heroic, Mr. Wayne?”

“Only when someone beautiful is about to be bored to death.”

You should roll your eyes.

You do roll your eyes.

But your face heats anyway.

Because he means it. Or at least, Bruce Wayne has the deeply inconvenient skill of making every word sound like it has already been decided in private.

Tonight is no different.

The gala is at the museum, all marble floors and towering columns and Gotham’s elite dressed in black tie like vultures pretending to be swans. You came because your department received an invitation, because donors matter, because sometimes being visible is part of surviving in a city like this.

You did not come to be seduced by Bruce Wayne beneath a fresco of some tragic mythological woman being ruined by desire.

And yet.

“There you are,” Bruce says.

You turn, champagne glass halfway to your lips.

He stands behind you in a tuxedo that should be illegal. Crisp white shirt. Black bow tie. Cufflinks that catch the low gold light. His hair is just a little mussed, like he ran his fingers through it once too often.

Your stomach does something embarrassing.

“Were you looking for me?”

His mouth tilts.

“Yes.”

Simple. Unashamed.

Your fingers tighten around your glass.

“That’s dangerous.”

“For whom?”

“For you,” you say, mostly because flirting is easier than admitting your knees feel strange. “People might think you’re interested.”

Bruce steps closer, not enough to trap you, just enough that the noise of the room dulls around his voice.

“I am interested.”

There it is.

No wink. No socialite charm. No playful deflection.

Just Bruce.

Direct. Quiet. Devastating.

Your pulse stumbles.

You look away first, because you have to. Because if you don’t, you are certain he’ll see too much. The wanting. The nerves. The humiliating inexperience under all your carefully practiced banter.

He’s older than you. Not old, exactly, but settled in a way you are not. Powerful in a way that makes rooms organize themselves around him. Experienced in ways you can only imagine, and unfortunately you have imagined them far too many times.

Bruce studies your face.

“Too much?”

The question lands softly.

Not teasing.

Checking.

That makes it worse.

You swallow. “No.”

His eyes drop briefly to your mouth.

“Good.”

Oh.

The word is nothing. Barely anything.

But your body hears it like a command.

You take a sip of champagne to buy yourself time and immediately regret it because Bruce watches the movement of your throat with such focused restraint that heat sparks low in your stomach.

“Dance with me,” he says.

It is phrased like a request.

It does not feel like one.

Still, his hand waits between you, palm open.

Your choice.

You set down your glass.

“All right.”

His fingers close around yours.

Warm. Large. Certain.

He leads you onto the dance floor with the kind of ease that makes you feel, absurdly, like you were expected there. Like the entire room was arranged around this moment. Around his hand at your waist. Around your palm against his shoulder. Around the slow, elegant drag of music through the air.

Bruce dances like he does everything else when he drops the mask.

With control.

Not flashy. Not theatrical. Just steady pressure and subtle guidance, his body turning yours as if he knows exactly how much you’ll give before you’ve given it.

“You’re quiet,” he murmurs.

“I’m concentrating.”

“On dancing?”

“On not stepping on Gotham’s most eligible billionaire.”

His thumb moves once at your waist.

“You can step on me if it helps.”

You laugh before you can stop yourself.

His expression softens. Barely. But you see it.

That is the thing about Bruce Wayne. Everyone thinks he’s unreadable because his face gives away so little. But once you start noticing, the small things become catastrophic.

The tiny crease at the corner of his mouth.

The way his eyes warm when you challenge him.

The way his hand adjusts on your back, careful, never lower than you allow.

“You’re staring,” you whisper.

“Yes.”

“You’re not even going to deny it?”

“No.”

Your breath catches.

Bruce leans down slightly, his mouth near your ear.

“I’ve spent weeks trying to decide whether you wanted me to stop.”

Your fingers flex against his shoulder.

“And?”

“And every time I gave you space, you looked disappointed.”

Damn him.

Damn him for noticing.

You tilt your face enough to meet his eyes. “That’s arrogant.”

“That’s observation.”

“That’s very Batman of you.”

The second the words leave your mouth, you freeze.

Bruce’s gaze sharpens.

Only for a moment.

Then his mouth curves.

“Careful.”

You recover, barely. “Or what?”

His hand presses a fraction firmer against your back, bringing you one measured inch closer.

“Or I might start thinking you enjoy testing me.”

You do not answer.

You cannot.

Because the truth is suddenly too visible between you.

You enjoy it. You enjoy the line. The restraint. The sense that Bruce Wayne could have whatever he wanted, and for some reason, what he wants is to wait until you step toward him.

The song ends.

Neither of you moves.

Applause rises around the room, polite and distant. Bruce’s hand remains at your waist.

“Come outside,” he says.

The terrace is cold enough to clear your head.

Or it should be.

Instead, the Gotham air only makes you more aware of the heat Bruce left everywhere he touched you. The museum terrace overlooks the city, all glittering windows and black rooftops, the skyline jagged beneath a silver moon.

You stand by the stone railing, trying to breathe normally.

Bruce removes his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders without asking for praise.

It smells like him.

Cedar. Smoke. expensive soap. Something darker beneath it.

You pull it tighter around yourself.

“You do that a lot,” you say.

“What?”

“Take care of people without making it a discussion.”

Bruce stands beside you, close enough that his sleeve brushes your arm.

“Does that bother you?”

“No,” you say quietly. “It’s just… noticeable.”

He looks out over the city.

“I’ve been trying not to overwhelm you.”

Your laugh comes out smaller than you intend.

“Bruce, your entire existence is overwhelming.”

That gets you the faintest smile.

Then silence.

Comfortable at first.

Then charged.

His gaze returns to you, and all the teasing drains away. What remains is something heavier. Hungrier. Still restrained, but only because he chooses it.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

Your heart slams once against your ribs.

He does not move.

He waits.

You should say something clever. Something coy. Something that makes this feel less like the ground shifting beneath you.

Instead, you whisper, “Okay.”

Bruce’s eyes search your face.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

He lifts one hand slowly, giving you every chance to turn away.

You don’t.

His fingers touch your jaw.

Gentle.

That is what ruins you first.

Not the intensity. Not the wealth. Not the power.

The gentleness.

Bruce Wayne, who could command boardrooms and terrify criminals and bend Gotham’s attention by entering a room, touches your face like you are something precious. Like your yes matters more than his wanting.

Then he kisses you.

Soft at first.

Measured.

His mouth brushes yours once, then again, like a question he already knows better than to rush. Your hand catches his shirtfront, not quite pulling him closer, not quite holding yourself up.

Bruce notices anyway.

His other hand settles at your waist.

The kiss deepens.

Slowly.

His mouth opens over yours, and your entire body goes warm. You make a small sound before you can swallow it. Barely anything. A breath. A slip.

Bruce hears it.

Of course he does.

His fingers tighten once at your waist, then ease again.

You chase his mouth when he draws back.

That makes something flash in his eyes.

“There you are,” he murmurs.

Your face burns. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it makes me want to do stupid things.”

Bruce’s thumb strokes along your jaw.

“What kind of stupid things?”

You should stop.

You should laugh. Deflect. Step back into the light of the gala where everything has rules.

But you are wrapped in his jacket, still tasting his mouth, and his hand is steady at your waist.

So you say, “Invite you home.”

Bruce goes still.

Not cold.

Not distant.

Still like every part of him has focused.

Your stomach flips.

“Or not,” you blurt. “That was— I mean, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes,” he says.

You blink.

Bruce’s voice is low. “If that’s what you want.”

The problem is that it is.

The bigger problem is that wanting him does not erase the twist of nerves in your chest. The secret you have been carrying like a fragile, embarrassing thing. The fact that Bruce Wayne has probably been with models, actresses, socialites, women who know exactly how to be touched by men like him.

And you—

You know how to want.

You do not know how to do anything with it.

Your silence lasts too long.

Bruce notices.

His hand falls away from your waist.

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” he says immediately.

“No, I want to.”

His eyes hold yours.

“But?”

You inhale shakily.

The words come out before you can make them elegant.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Bruce’s expression changes.

Not drastically.

He is too controlled for that.

But something in his face stills, then softens with such careful intensity that your throat tightens.

“You mean with me?”

You look down.

“No.”

A beat.

Then Bruce says your name.

Not the way other people say it. Not casually. Not as a placeholder.

He says it like a hand offered in the dark.

You force yourself to look at him.

His face is serious now. Entirely.

“You’re a virgin?”

You wince. “You don’t have to say it like it’s a diagnosis.”

“I’m not.”

“Feels like it.”

“I’m clarifying.”

“Well. Clarified.”

Bruce watches you for another second, then steps back. Not away. Just enough to give you space.

“Thank you for telling me.”

That is not what you expected.

No teasing. No smugness. No visible disappointment.

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