AUTHOR’s NOTE🦇﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧ — First fic woooo!!! This came to me after my friend sent me a compilation of boots. Who doesn’t wanna ride Habit’s boot, amirite lads or amirite lads❓😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 no srs this was written w/ one hand.
WARNINGS 🦇﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧ — DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Habit x vampire!f!reader, Stockholm syndrome (?), boot licking, boot humping, degrading, petplay (mentions of bun, mutt, puppy), gore, knife play(?), humiliation, face slapping, forced edging, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, oral (m!receiving) , throat-fucking, NO aftercare.
PLAYING 🦇﹒ 𑣲𝄞 ˚₊‧ — I’m The Slime, Frank Zappa & The Mothers
All vampires needed blood to live.
Some steal from blood banks, others go out of their way to kill animals, and a few get a trusted human to feed on. You were one of those, but not in the usual way a person might think.
About a year ago, you followed the sweet scent of blood into the woods and found Habit knocking one of his victims out. He stared at you, you stared back. An eerie silence muffled the air as you sized each other up. You didn’t remember anything, other than the fact that you were also knocked unconscious and taken to a basement. Since then, you’ve been locked in his vessel’s house as a pet.
Since then, Habit fed you blood, let you tag along his hunts, and gave you a semblance of freedom. You could protect yourself, and he was so sure you’d always come back to him. Why wouldn’t you? He’d been so nice to you! His pretty little pet, all his to play with. You’d even started to leave him gifts tied up in his basement, as if you were a cat leaving a mouse for your owner.
However, you were still about as human as you could be. Every need you had when you were human was heightened after you were turned. You hadn’t been pleasured in so long. You were desperate. You’d rubbed yourself numb, driving yourself desensitized to your own pleasure. It was miserable. You confided this to habit, who laughed at you and ruffled your hair.
“Poor bun’s all horny!” He didn’t even try to control his giggles. “Wow, that’s fucking adorable, really, it is.” He sighed, a smirk stretched through his face as he grabbed a knife. He left you sitting there in the couch as he continued to giggle the way down to his basement. You didn’t know what you thought would happen once you told him. Did you think he’d help you? Would he want to help you?
The idea clicked in your head.
You ran to the basement stairs, before yelling down. “Habit?”
You heard a groan, then a whimper of pain from an unfamiliar voice. “Kinda busy here, doll!” You heard his distorted voice say.
“Can you come up here? I need you for something!”
“Do it alone!” He growled, pushing something back and showing up at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m busy.” You gave him puppy eyes, but he didn’t budge. “Don’t gimme that. I’ll be up soon.”
You bit your lip, sighing through your nose. “Fine.”
Habit patted the column of the stairs. “Atta girl.” He disappeared before you could elaborate. You huffed and closed the basement door. You sat on the couch, waiting for habit.
30 minutes became an hour. You decided to go check back on him. This time, you came down. You peered over him once you stood on the second to last step. “Habit?”
He was all bloody, stomping on a person. “I told you I was fucking busy, didn’t I?” He stopped, turning to you. His voice was distorted, that, you knew meant that he wasn’t exactly patient.
“I- I- I don’t give a shit.” He mocked. “Go upstairs and wait like you’re supposed to, or you’ll join him.” You knew you weren’t supposed to interrupt him. He’d explicitly told you, as well. But you stopped really following rules after a while. He never reprimanded you anyway.
You gulped. “Sorry.” You went back up, closing the door again. You tried watching TV, playing with the cat Habit got you, even tried to do it yourself. Each trial was all in vain. All you could think about was Habit. Habit. Habit. You couldn’t help yourself. You were overflowing with need.
Your feet took you back to the basement, this time, you were fully in the basement. You opened your mouth to talk, before you were thrown by your hair onto the floor.
“What did I fucking tell you, huh?” Habit was fisting your hair, a bloody knife in his other hand. “What. Did. I. Fucking. Tell. You?” He reiterated, the distortion in his voice glitching out.
You winced, eyes shut in pain. “To wait but- but I wanted to-“ he hit the back of your head.
“I didn’t ask what you wanted.” He pried your eye open, squishing your cheeks together. “Open.” You blinked your eyes as he forced your face to the bloody man that was still conscious. “See him? Hm? See how busy I am right now?” Your senses were overwhelmed, smelling the musty basement, sugary blood, and habits musk.
“‘I just want to get fucked!’” He mimicked your voice. “‘I just want Habit to dick my slutty ass down!’” He sneered. “Ain’t that right, mutt?”
You sniffled, opening your mouth to talk, but nothing fell out.
“Now you don’t wanna talk.” He scoffed, pushing you to the ground. He walked towards his victim, pushing the victim down on the ground with his foot to stop his squirming. He slit the man’s throat, the blood squirting all over his combat boots. You panted, inhaling the scent of the blood. It made you dizzy. You felt your ears drumming, muffling the gurgling of the dying man a foot away from of you.
You crawled towards habit, fangs aching as you got closer to the blood.
“Oh no no, no, mutt.” He stopped you. “You’re not drinking from that.” He stood in front of you. “You don’t deserve to.” He put his boot in your face. “Lick.”
You sputter. “Excuse me?”
“I said lick.” He commanded. You flinched. You knew better than to disobey him right now. You hesitantly moved your way down to his boot, letting your tongue run across a blood patch. You looked up at him, seeing disinterested anger on his face. He tighted his grip on the knife, which encouraged you to go back to licking.
He watched you clean up his boot. Your ass up in the air as you slobbered all over. “You should be ashamed.” He scoffed. “Dumb mutt with no fucking patience. You’d think you’d know how to behave by now.” He crunched and pulled you up the hair. “You have my attention now, puppy.” He glared. “What are you bothering me for?”
You cleared your throat. “I wanted to see if you would help me...” you pressed your hand on the now slobbered toe of his boot.
“You think I would help you? After this stunt you pulled?” He laughed maniacally. “Your mind really is full of shit, bun.”
“I thought you’d be about done right now, and I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just wanted to ask you the question and I-“ he slapped you.
“I don’t want any excuses. You knew what you were getting yourself into.” He sneered, face getting closer to you. “You’re a dirty little whore who wants to be used and tortured because you can’t get pleasure from anything else.” He pulled your hair again. “That right?”
“No, no, no! That’s not it, please I- I just- wanted to-“
“Get fucked.” He finished your sentence. “You wanted to get fucked.” He kicked your hand off his foot and pressed the boot to your cunt. You gasped. “Now,” He ticked. “You’re going to hump my boot like the stupid dog you are, and you’re going to like it.”
You didn’t dare to say otherwise, you were already in trouble. You started moving your hips, wincing at the feeling. The fabric of your panties caught onto the leather of the boot, giving you a sense of friction you’ve never felt before. Your arms wrapped around his leg, knees scuffing against the cold basement floor.
Habit watched you with a bored expression, feeling your little humps aid doing absolutely nothing to aid you. He wanted you to feel disgusting, to feel humiliated that you let such human desires get through logic. He got high off those fumes. “You’re so disgusting. You know how desperate you look? A bitch in heat, that’s what you are.”
Your noises started getting louder and you were picking up the pace. You wanted this. You needed this. The feeling of a cold object pulling you out of your trance. He had his knife set on your cheek. You were so immersed in yourself, you didn’t even realized that habit had taken himself out.
You didn’t have time to understand what was going on, before he shoved himself in your mouth, wincing when your fangs scratched him. He didn’t care about the gag you let out, just started fucking your mouth like you were worthless. “Fucking slut- stupid, stupid, stupid, little mutt. All you’re good for is whining and- aah- fuuuck. And this.” He held you in place, his pubic hair tickling your nose. He held onto his pace of deep, hard strokes that made you feel like his tip was touching your heart.
You stopped grinding on his boot to suck at him. “Sure you wanna do that, bun?” He spit, “because when I come I ain’t gonna help ya no more.” He groaned as your whine vibrated his dick. He snickered as you scrambled to ride his boot again. “Atta girl, that’s how ya do it, whore.”
Your drool was falling in strings onto the floor, the basement echoing back the wet sounds that were Habits thrusts into your mouth. Habit understood you were getting close when your whimpers continued after one another, so he moved his boot away. “Ah ah ah, you don’t get to come first.” You were already sobbing your eyes out. He was just adding fuel to the fire. He wiped your tears away roughly. “Such a pretty doll, shame you’re so dirty, hm? Crying over not being able to hump my boot. How pathetic you are, so so so pathetic.” He pat your face, pressing his boot against you again. “Cmon ’m close. You heard me the first time.” He sighed, he dropped the knife to the floor and reached for your hair. His hand scrunched up your hair to hold your head while he threw back his own.
You moved your hips with newfound fevor, trying desperately to cum before him. He continued to fuck your mouth, pulling out until the tip of it was at your teeth before slamming it in again. You gagged, over and over again, the friction becoming too much.
“Fucking- cum.” He ordered. You saw white, shaking as you felt your body go limp. You felt the glob of cum paint the inside of your panties as his cock painted your throat white. He laughed when he pulled out and you spurted.
“There you go.” He smirked, giving you time. Habit stepped away from you, his eyes scanning the way he left you. He stuffed himself back in his pants, before starting to walk upstairs again.
He just left you there, covered in sex in a cold basement. “Don’t forget this was a punishment!” He sing-songed, before slamming the door of the basement shut.
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