[WIP] if you want a doctor, Iβll examine every inch of youβ¦ anyways I hope this doesnβt get pixelated. Huge thank you to all the freecam screenshotters btw, but specifically creds to @/alexwlwesker for the image I referenced.
can you please write something hurt/comfort or fluff with Habit? your writing is great!! it would be interesting to see how you'd write him in a more comforting scenarios :3c
ΰ£ͺ Φ΄ΦΆΦΈβΎ. - [|β§ Cry Me a River Part 2β§|] (HABIT x Reader)
You had been curled up on the couch for most of the time Habit had been gone, your head pressed against the armrest and your body curled in on itself, your arms wrapped around your chest. You could feel the frame of the couch underneath the ratty cushions, and it smelled musty and untouched, almost like cardboard, even though you had been curled up here for what you could only assume was for a few days.
You hadn't thought about much in a while now; your mind had been blissfully silent for the last few days, save for a few brief passing thoughts during the few hours you willed yourself to stay awake. Most of the time, you just stared at the scratch marks on the armrests or traced the holes in the woven fabric cushions with the tip of your finger absentmindedly. It still hurt to swallow, but the bruising around your neck had faded at least, yet there was still a sickly lavender color indented into your skin in the shape of his hand. A scathing reminder of your last breakdown. But compared to the almost inky black color it had been, you were healing.
Habit had completely ignored everything that had transpired between the two of you; you couldn't even be exact on how long it had been. Maybe he just didn't care; maybe it had meant nothing to him at all, and you were the only idiot worrying about it. That was what you had assumed, anyway.
Either way, you had spent your time curled up here, listening to the vague, eerie silence of what was his home. Odd creaks from the floorboards, metal popping in the distance anytime there was a small shift. When Habit was gone, it was like the house curled around you, with the absence of its owner, it clung to the one living thing inside of it. Sometimes it was comforting, but on days like this, it was simply unnerving, like it was suffocating you within its peeling wallpaper walls.
Most days, Habit ignored you, went about doing whatever it is that he does- you never asked, you didnβt want to know, in any case. Other days, he would poke at you like you were roadkill, like he was testing to see if you were still alive or trying to rouse a reaction out of you with his prodding. Some days, he would drag you around by your wrist or the collar of your shirt, ranting and raving about whatever was in his βgrand planβ, something you couldnβt understand and werenβt exactly privy to. Sometimes he treated you like a doll, manhandled you, and pretended to be more human than he really was, playing pretend with you to try and elicit some sort of empathetic response from you in turn. Sometimes you felt like he just wanted an audience, a conspirator, a witness to see everything he was doing and nod along like a puppet on strings.
But today was different; things had been eerily quiet until Habit materialized seemingly out of thin air. He plopped down on the couch unceremoniously, staring straight ahead at the wall behind the television as he flopped against the cushions. You startled in response, almost letting out a yelp, your breath hitching and your body tensing sharply. You really did hate it when he did that, just materialized out of nowhere with almost no warning, you were positive he did it on purpose, or at the very least, he didnβt care. You were already paranoid enough without having to wonder when he was going to pop out at seemingly any given time; you could only sigh, releasing the tension in your heart. You swore you were going to have a heart attack because of it one of these days.
You chanced a glance over to him, still lying on your side. He was sitting next to your feet, uncomfortably close with his thigh pressing against them. Despite how much he despised when people touched him, he still had no qualms about invading your personal space at any given time, like he owned it. You didn't think you had ever seen him so... lifeless. Usually, he was energetic, playful, sarcastic above all-- but right now, he seemed about as listless as you were. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; you could only wonder if this listlessness was an accumulation of anger or something else. The only other time you had ever seen him be this quiet and still before was when he was completely and utterly pissed off at someone or something. It made you brace yourself for the inevitable point that he would snap and either take it out on you or everything around him, dragging you into it.
He was zoning out, staring into the distance with a blank expression as if there wasnβt a thought in his mind at all. In another short moment, the television turned on without him even looking at it, startling you yet again as a muted laugh track from an old sitcom television show you could barely recognize, something that had come out a bit before your time. You squinted your eyes, your attention drawn to the soft glow of it; at least this one was in fuzzy colors, usually all he put on were black and white horror movies that you couldnβt recognize, with less dialogue and more screams than anything.
He didnβt say much to you for a while, his arms crossed over his chest and his body completely still, like a corpse. For a moment, you wondered if he was even breathing at all, if his heart was even beating. You werenβt daring enough to poke at his shoulder and see, even if it would only be fair with the ridiculous number of times that he had done the same to you.
"You have got to be the most miserable creature I have ever met," He finally muttered, breaking the tense silence. His voice was almost a low growl, but he definitely sounded exasperated. Tired, you realized. You didn't think you would ever see the day when Habit would look or sound even remotely exhausted, considering he never slept, at least to your knowledge. You had only ever seen him eat, nothing more. If he still had to eat periodically, surely he had to sleep at some point, right?
βDo you always just look like a kicked puppy?β He asked sarcastically, not even bothering to look over to you. The soft glow of the television was bathing him in a warm light; his eyes almost glowed a sickly violet color in the dark of the room. Shadow settled over his face with the way his head was tilted downward ever so slightly. You could only glance down at the floor, focusing on his scuffed-up, dirty boots. For the most part, you just tried to block out his comments now; the less you listened to his mocking words, the better off you were in most cases, even if he would berate you for being 'brainless' when you disconnected yourself from whatever cheap shots he was taking at you for his own amusement.
When you didnβt reply to his comment, he got visibly irritated. You thought he was just going to keep berating you, but instead, he growled in annoyance, snatching your ankle, his nails digging into your skin. With a sharp tug, he dragged you towards him, making you yelp and sharply roll onto your back. It didnβt deter him, of course; nothing ever seemed to deter him when it came to you, not crying, not screaming, and definitely not fighting. But you just didn't have the energy to fight him much anymore; it was futile, and you just didn't have a reason to anymore.
He yanked you onto his lap, adjusting you so you were sitting on top of his muscular thighs, facing him directly with your own thighs pressed against his sides and your legs folded. He tightened his grip on your ankle, his grip shifting down until he had his thumb pressed against the arch of your foot, massaging the center of it. Like how someone would play with a petβs paw pads, maybe. Your toes couldnβt help but curl at the sensation, and you couldnβt fight the flush that rose to your face, a mix of being sat on his lap so casually and his teasing. You were much too easy to fluster.
You could only dryly swallow as he pressed you to his chest, settling you on his lap. Your face was buried in the layers of clothes he wore, from his dirty, stained, and ripped flannel to the black, faded horror movie t-shirt underneath. He was constantly wearing so many layers. Was he cold? You wondered. Could he even feel temperature? When had you even started worrying about him like that? You tensed almost immediately as his arms wrapped around you, his chin settling in your hair. You could still smell the faint scent of iron clinging to him and something foreign to you, akin to ozone. At least it was mostly familiar now, with the amount of time you had spent around him, it wasnβt as off-putting anymore.
βYeah, yeah, I know you hate my guts and all- β He huffed in irritation, a bit theatrically, in your opinion. Sometimes it was hard to tell with how quickly his moods switched back and forth, but for now, it read as relatively playful. βBut just sit tight and shut up, βkay?β He finished, a bit of his weight pressing into you now like he was trying to subdue you, forcing you to sit still. You could only relent.
He leaned back into the ratty couch cushions and propped his feet up on the dusty, scratched-up wood coffee table, crossing his legs. He wasn't tense anymore; instead, he was rather languid in his movements, his shoulders untensed. Was his relaxed demeanor supposed to make you feel calmer too? Or was he just luring you into a false sense of security?
You were still wary enough that you trembled at first; you couldnβt help it, couldnβt help the way your head felt fuzzy as adrenaline rushed through your veins, screaming at you to struggle and run. But he held you firmly in place, and you couldnβt run even if you wanted to; your legs would give out on you because of your nerves. It was strange, feeling like you were in the sharp-toothed jaws of a wolf when he only had his arms wrapped around you. But you knew better than to ever underestimate him and what he could do in the blink of an eye. He had too much power here, more than you could even fathom yourself.
You didnβt move for a while, hoping not to provoke him. He muttered nonsensically into your hair, about things you couldnβt understand and things you could barely hear, that was probably for the best. After a while, his low rambling just turned into background noise too. Your thoughts wandered a bit, back and forth between his intentions and your regular overthinking. You could only cringe internally when you realized you couldnβt remember the last time you had let someone cuddle you, let alone use you like a plush toy to hug and rant to. After a while in his firm hold, you didnβt move at all; you just listened to the background noise of the television running. You could hear the laugh track every so often, muffled by Habitβs chest.
Against yourself, you sort of relaxed, as long as he would just stay like this, you didnβt mind it as much as you thought you did. Yet again, the rational part of your mind was hitting you over the head with a rolled-up newspaper, chiding you for letting something like this happen all over again. But the stupid, mushy part of your heart liked it, liked the attention, liked being held and cuddled, even if he was just using you as a makeshift stuffed animal. You didnβt think you would ever stop feeling conflicted about it all, not as long as the rational part of your mind still persisted.
Your eyes watered a little; you were still scared, but some part of you just wanted to revel in the comfort of being held, even if it seemed to be more for his benefit than yours. You were touch-starved, even if you tended to avoid the subject entirely, but it was hard to deny it when he just did things like this, dragging you into his lap or getting touchy with you. It made you feel a little sick, but you still couldnβt shake the guilt. Even if Evan was gone, it still felt wrong to feel this way about Habit. He had killed Evan, in essence, killed your friends. You had to keep reminding yourself of that, had to keep as much distance as you could emotionally.
ββ¦Why are you keeping me around?β You whispered into his chest, your voice a little choked up, you werenβt even sure if he could hear you like this. But it was the first time you had ever dared to ask the question that had been weighing on you since the beginning, threatening to be your undoing. Why you? Why you out of everyone else? There was nothing special about you, nothing particularly intriguing, but out of everyone, you were the only one still alive, still breathing.
He didnβt answer for a long time, but you felt his grip on you tighten as he pondered an answer. He was taking his time thinking of a response, and it only made you feel dread at what his answer could be.
βYou make pretty decent eye candy when youβre bawling your eyes out, but maybe youβd look prettier if you werenβt sulking all the time.β He drawled, sarcasm dripping through like usual, as he began to drum his fingers against your hip, he was back to fidgeting. βItβs kinda funny how you look at me, like youβre starving for scraps and Iβm the only one offering. At least, when you look at me and donβt see Evan,β He scrunched his nose at his own words, his fingers stilling, like he had said something too honest, too loosely. He only shook his head, like he was waving something off.
βBut letβs be real, babydoll, without you, I donβt have anyone else worth tormenting right now,β Habit amended, backtracking almost defensively. There mightβve been a bit of truth to it. You were the only one left, and you werenβt sure what else he was even doing right now with everyone else dead and gone. Something correlating to his βplanβ again, you had to guess.
βBut donβt think about it too hard, Iβll get rid of you when youβre not much fun to play with anymore,β He hummed, settling with his normal mocking and a vague threat, his hand coming up and giving you a patronizing pat on the back of your head. His hand drifted back down your spine, tracing each individual vertebrae until finally he just dropped back down to your foot, making you squirm on impulse again. He started to rub the sole of your foot again, pressing his fingertips in deep to work out the kinks you hadnβt even known were there. You winced, the nerves spasming, and slowly but surely, it didnβt hurt as much anymore. Maybe you really did need to start getting up more; you were stiff, yet you hadnβt paid any attention to it until now, too caught up in your own thoughts and whatever antics he dragged you into.
As he continued, his other hand rubbing at your hip bone in deep circles, he wasnβt holding you down anymore, and for once, he wasnβt completely harassing you. It felt nice, and you felt your body get warm all over again. You had a feeling he was just trying to get you to shut up again; it was clear he didnβt want to speak on the subject any longer, and you werenβt in any position to push it.
When the tension was eased out of you again, the knots worked out of both of your feet, he wrapped his arms around your torso again, but his holder was looser this time, less all consuming and forceful. He started to rock you both back and forth gently, cradling you against his chest.
Your breathing evened out a bit, your eyes and limbs beginning to feel heavy as your head lolled against his chest. You couldn't stay awake forever. It was the only need you still seemed to have; you hadn't eaten, hadn't drunk any water, but you were alive. And somehow, sleep was the only thing your body still forced you into. Sleep was the only thing that cleared your head long enough for you to get your mind off of everything, to stop you from overthinking and thinking too much about your doomed future.
Just as you finally closed your eyes, you heard Habitβs subtle whisper against your hair, his confession quiet and subtle. "I figure if I keep you around long enough, maybeβ¦ maybe you'll learn to love me, instead of him." He finally admitted into the static of the room, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, but it was the clearest you had ever heard his real voice. Not the odd mish-mash of Evanβs voice and his rasp, his real voice, something otherworldly, deep and echoing. He mightβve never done it if he didnβt think you were asleep. You mightβve never heard it if you had been any closer to unconsciousness.
Maybe this was what he was like when he didnβt think he had an audience, when he wasnβt putting on an act for anyone, maybe not even for himself.
But there was something distinctly hollow in him, something insatiable.
Youβd seen it in small moments, his blank stares, the way he viewed humans in general, like lesser beings, like animals, with the way he hunted them down like deer. And when he rambled about change, it slowly made you realize that his world must feel stagnant to him. You didnβt know much, but you knew for sure that he had been around for a very, very long time. Eternity was a lonely existence, an empty one if nothing ever changed.
You knew this could only be the calm before the storm; this peace could never last, especially not with him. But you still slipped into a warm, dreamless sleep, static filling your ears and your mind finally shutting down as you drifted off with thoughts of what living in this tentative peace could look like.
ββ .β¦ thank you for reading! all comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated. β¦ .α
Hey guys!! I'm new to the EMH community I'm very excited!
I love making character playlist so I'm going to be making one for Habit
If you guys have song recommendations that I can add I would really appreciate it and once I get a good amount of songs I'll make it public and post it!!
hello (Β΄γ»Ογ»ο½) do you think you can write habit with a reader who just likes to follow him around,, extra points if reader thinks they arent being noticed but obviously habit knows..
cw: habit, bit of stalking (duh thatβs the whole point), reader is kinda crazy too but sweet about it, suggestive but no real smut this time ΰ»κ°Λ΅- Λ -Λ΅κ±ΰ§§
you think youβre being subtle.
following several steps back, hiding behind large trees when you think heβs about to turn around. he never does.
itβs not even that youβre suspicious. youβre fully aware of what he does when heβs alone. you know heβs not human, you know heβs a real mean demon. you know he kills people.
youβre fully aware. youβre justβ¦ curious.
you want to see how he acts when heβs alone in his element. and if youβre lucky enough, youβll even learn how he kills.
another good point isβhe stalks you all the time. sometimes you can feel him before you see him. you can feel that long shiver run all up your spine, and you can hear how the animals just go quiet.
no birds chirping. no crickets. nothing.
other times, heβs subtle. you canβt even feel him. thatβs when he likes it more.
letβs say youβre in the backyard, walking around. or just picking flowers. everything feels normal, but when you look up towards the treeline, you see a subtle silhouette there. eyes dead set on you.
back to right now, you let your morbid curiosity take over, deciding to follow him. you know heβll be real mad if he finds out you left the house without his permission, but you just wanna stay close to him! itβs not your fault now, is it?
Habit thinks youβre pretty damn stupid. and itβs amusing to him how much you think youβre being sneaky.
as if you could outsmart a predator like him. as if you could stalk a stalker.
he has to admitβthe first few minutes you did a good job. walking far, making sure not to step on crunchy leaves or twigs, hiding. or how you controlled your breathing, keeping it slow.
now? now you keep making noise. sloppy. careless.
he should be mad at you for leaving the house, but he gotta admit, heβs pleased that youβre doing all of this, risking your life, for him.
what do mortals say? share your hobbies with your loved ones? heβs sharing! stalking is a hobby he takes to heart.
so heβll let you have your fun for a bit more.
heβll even play along. heβs humming now. whistling, even. making noise to cover yours. just to give you some more confidence. youβll need it.
youβre getting excited. you keep following him with wide eyes. your breathing is faster and you have a bright smile on your face.
you would have never thought youβd get excited over stalking someone. but again, Habit changed you a lot since the day you two met.
you step on a twig; the sound sharp. he stops and you quickly hide behind a large tree.
he smiles to himself, fixing his Death Proof hat before continuing his walk.
you watch him from your spot behind the tree, until he walks behind another one and just⦠disappears.
you furrow your eyebrows as you squint your eyes. heβs gone. just like that. he just walked behind a tree and disappeared.
you notice that the animals in the woods are silent. taking a step backward, your back collides with someoneβs chest, making you yelp.
Habit tuts, βnow, what do we have here?β
he wraps his arms around you before hooking his chin over your shoulder, βwhat are you doing here, bun? you know itβs dangerous to leave the house without me.β
you whine, βyou knew i was following you?β
βdonβt be dumber than you already are. of course i knew, dummy.β
you huff an annoyed breath before stomping your foot, tapping it against the soft ground. he thinks itβs cute. youβre a real bunny. you just need some floppy ears, but thatβs for another day.
βi could hear your little heart race from the second you left the house. was the little bunny excited to follow me?β he mocks your same pout, making his voice all sad and whiny.
you frown and whine a small, βHabit.β
he pouts harder, βwhat would have happened if something took my girl away, huh? there are a lot of big bad monsters out here, hungry and ready to snatch pretty things away. what then, hm? iβd be all alone.β
you shiver, βthere are no monsters in the woods.β
he hums, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a subtle smirk.
βsure thing, my angel. letβs get you back home now.β
you look back at him, βare you mad at me for leaving the house?β
βmm. am i?β he grins at your wide eyed expression before squeezing your hips, βnah. youβre cute when you try to make bad decisions. get your ass home now.β
he smacks your ass hard, making you squeal and walk in front of him.
he tilts his head as he looks at you, adjusting the crotch of his pants before following you.
>__<
a/n: i need some nasty sloppy stalker x stalker habit smut YESTERDAY
A thought occurred to me.. Evan and reader going at it but habit decides to interfere..
ouuu shiππ
a/n: i feel like the ending is rushed help i hope this isnβt completely shit. also MIGHT be ooc as im still watching EMH and its confusing as shit.
cw: habit, smut, some sort of threesome, praising, degradation, reader knows about habit.
letβs start by saying evan is the best boyfriend ever. caring, funny, handsome, protective. heβs the whole package.
heβs not by any means vanilla. he likes some predator/prey roleplay, heβs into knife stuff, and heβs intense.
BUT. you just got together and he doesnβt wanna scare you too much. youβre a sweet one, and he wants to take things slowly.
which is why habit being there complicates things. heβd whisper in his head all the deranged stuff he wanted to do to you, all the while youβre just eating ice cream and chatting about how your cat scratched you.
it comes to a point where he starts getting boners and has to excuse himself to the bathroom while habit laughs in his head.
fast forward to right this second, youβre on top of evan. youβre riding him, wellβyouβre grinding down on his cock while whimpering. your hands are on his chest for support and your eyes are screwed shut in pleasure.
heβs whimpering too; groans and grunts are leaving his mouth fast as his hands hold your hips. his eyes are screwed shut too, mouth open and hips jerking up from time to time to meet yours and to drive his cock deeper.
you donβt even notice the change at first. careful hands turn into a tight grip that will leave bruises. soft moans turn into grunts and growls. hips jerking up every few minutes start jerking up each thrust.
you happen to glance down at him and in that exact moment, his hand move up to wrap around your throat.
you gasp as you find yourself with your back against the mattress and habit grins down at you.
βheya, bun.β
his pace is different from evan; itβs fast, and punishing and it knocks the air right out of your lungs.
your hands wrap around his wrist as the moans are being literally kicked out of your mouth and your eyes roll back every time his tip knocks against that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars.
habit keeps looking down at you with a smile that looks almost amused.
heβll just have to show evan how much sweeter you can be when youβre being used.
youβll be barely lucid, hands reaching for anything to hold. your legs spread and aching, your lips glossy with his spit. the bed creaking and moaning with every push and pull of his hips.
heβll loom over you, wicked smirk on his lips as he takes you.
the first time he did it was on a whim.
your hair kept falling over your pretty and flustered face, and he was not happy with that. so, in a fit of irritation, he yanked the hat off his head and put it on you.
it unlocked something primal in him.
youβbare, vulnerable, malleable, so sweetβcrying for him while his hat rested on your head. he didnβt care if your sweat soaked the fabric, or if his hair was now getting in his face.
and when youβre riding him?
heβs all over you.
death proof cap pulled low over your face, the only visible feature was your parted lips as you bounced. his hands would dig into the plush of your thighs, groaning as he took what you gave.
and when it was over?
the two of you would breathe and bask in each other presence, and he would take his hat off you. heβd use the bill of it to lift your chin to him, kissing you before pushing it back over your hair and whispering:
βweβre goinβ again. y'look too sweet, hun."
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