┕━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ | Word Count: 5.5k // Summary: Your boyfriend breaks up with you on the single worst day out of the year, but now you're fair game.
┕━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ |A/N: Happy Extremely Late Valentine’s Day! I think Stu needs a little more attention in fanfics. Kind of sad they didn’t do more with him for Scream 7, but the Stu Macher lives truthers are the butt of the joke again. A few vague references to (My Bloody Valentine - 2009 Remake) & (Heart Eyes - 2025), surprisingly there aren’t very many Valentine’s Day themed horror movies, which is sad in my opinion. I know I usually write EMH fanfics, but I decided to switch things up a little and write something indulgent for myself since I'm single af this holiday season. (I promise I’m not dead, just busy lol.)
┕━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ | Tags: Oneshot, Slight Angst, AFAB Reader, Billy x Stu, Reader Reminds Stu of Billy (even if he doesn't fully realize it), Reader Is Given a Favorite Scary Movie, Reader is a Little Crazy Or At Least Morbidly Curious, Subtle Brat-Taming, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus/Oral Sex (Female Receiving), & No Beta We Die Like Billy Loomis.
“Tell me why you’re dating this dude again?” Stu drawled, looking almost bored as he leaned against a metal shelf of canned goods while you vigorously mopped the sticky linoleum floors. He was fidgeting with a can of beans on the shelf, but he was oddly languid about it, always fluid in every movement he made but never quite holding still, always fucking with something.
“I honestly don’t fucking know anymore,” You sighed in complete irritation, taking up your pent-up frustration on the dubiously sticky, grubby floors. You vigorously scrubbed the floors with your mop, leaving murky streaks of soapy water on the tile, slowly and painfully removing the caked-on grime despite the dull ache in your arms. You had one simple expectation for your boyfriend on this accursed day, and it was to show up to dinner after you got off work, but here you were, still awaiting any sort of confirmation that he was going to meet with you after work.
“…I guess I’ve just got bad luck with guys,” You muttered bitterly as you practically threw the dirty mop back into the bucket at your side.
“Yeah… Last one wasn’t really a looker, was he?” He scoffed, almost sneered, but when you glanced over at him with a knowing look, he only plastered a charming smile on his face, playing it off as a harmless joke. “Oh, c’mon, you said it yourself, he had an ugly face and an ugly heart, how unlucky can you get?” He teased.
“…It was just a fling,” You replied with a shake of your head.
You turned away from him and kicked the mop bucket along to the other side of the store with the heel of your foot, weaving past the shelves. Stu pushed off the shelf and slinked behind you, hands in the front pockets of his pants and his shoulders back.
You fished your phone out of your back pocket and checked it again for the umpteenth time as you shoved the mop and bucket into the janitor’s closet beside the front counter, slamming the door shut.
You braced yourself against the door with one hand, leaning over your cellphone as you unlocked your phone and read over the text messages.
✉️➤ | Boyfriend - 5:33 PM | ✉⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨୧˚
hey… happy valentines day. i know this is probably the worst timing ever but i’ve been thinking about this for a bit and i don’t think the relationship is really working for me anymore
✉️➤ | Boyfriend - 5:33 PM | ✉⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨୧˚
anyway i’ve been thinking a lot lately and i just feel like things between us have gotten kinda… idk weird? like not bad exactly but also not really what I want right now. i feel like you expect a lot from me and i’m just not in a place where i can do all that relationship stuff every day i think it’s better if we just go our separate ways for now
✉️➤ | Boyfriend - 5:34 PM | ✉⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨୧˚
i hope you understand. and i do hope you still have a good v-day
Your shoulders dropped, your expression going blank as you read over the texts a second time, gripping your phone tighter. “He broke up with me. Over text. On Valentine’s Day - seriously?” You were in disbelief. Stu sauntered over, glancing over your shoulder, nosily peering at the text messages, analyzing them critically. “Ye-ouch.” He muttered, staring down at your cellphone, before stepping back and shrugging.
“Well, fuck him. If he can’t appreciate what he’s got, then he deserves to lose it,” he replied casually, languidly stretching his arms above his head, his button-up shirt riding up as he sat down on the front counter.
“Yeah… I guess.” You deflected wearlily, shoving your cellphone into your back pocket and running a hand through your hair. You grabbed your jacket and your wallet from the basket tucked into the corner behind the counter. “Just can’t believe he picked fucking Valentine’s to break up with me.” You rubbed at the bridge of your nose in frustration, tension thrumming in your fingers. What you would give to wring your ex-boyfriend’s neck right now, to watch him suffer just a little to ease your simmering frustration.
But you quickly waved those thoughts away, making your way to the front doors.
When he saw you strolling over to the door, he perked up, hopping over the counter, almost tripping over himself, and cornering you before you could leave the store as he moved to block the exit.
You raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him.
“But I mean…. You’re single, I’m single, I’m hot, you’re hot, how about dinner?” He offered casually, tapping his fingers against the counter as he held his head up with one hand. He was surprisingly smooth when he wasn’t fucking around.
You shot him a smile. “I’m only freshly single, and you’re already coming in for scraps, like a vulture? Pervert."
“I never deny it, baby,” he whistled back at you.
You cracked a smile; he always had a way of cheering you up a bit. He was handsome and charming, with a smile like a golden retriever’s and a good sense of humor, even if it sometimes came across as insensitive. He was so much like a puppy sometimes, you could barely stay frustrated with him for very long.
You only shook your head, sighing. “Alright, alright, you shot your shot now move.” You waved him off; you doubted he was serious. He flirted and hit on practically anything that walked. You thought he was simply joking around, but for a moment, he didn’t move at all.
He leveled you a more honest look, shifting and tilting his head slightly. “I was being serious, y’know, I wouldn’t mind taking you out sometime. You like that one restaurant on the edge of town, right?” You paused; you were a little surprised by his invitation. You wondered how he knew that was your favorite restaurant, but you figured you must’ve mentioned it at some point. You almost felt like it would be wrong to move on so fast, but when you thought about the last time you had genuinely felt love, or even affection towards your now ex-boyfriend, you realized that you had been fed up with him for longer than you might’ve readily admitted.
“I… Maybe tomorrow night.” You offered. You wanted to give him a chance; you’d had plenty of banter with him over the past few months that he had been working here, and the chemistry was there.
He smiled, stepping away from the door and dramatically offering you passage through. “Tomorrow night it is.” You gave him a soft smile as you pushed through the door, making your way out into the parking lot.
── .✦ 🥀
Your boyfriend-- ex-boyfriend-- breaking up with you definitely hadn’t been part of the plan-- what kind of deadbeat breaks up with their girlfriend on Valentine’s day? He was almost in awe. Every time he thought your ex-boyfriend couldn’t sink any lower, he carved another layer out for himself in hell. This was just the cherry on top of it all. It was just like your shitty ex-boyfriend to throw a wrench into his plans. But then again, maybe it was just fate.
He decided he was going to make the best of the situation anyway; he’d been planning this all year, and he wasn’t going to let his carefully thought-out plans go to waste. Especially now that he had a particular craving to gut your boyfriend, maybe string him up by his intestines. The image brought a brief smile to his face as he locked the shop up, twirling his keys on his finger and whistling as he walked out to his car.
He made a slight change to his plan, deciding that he would track your ex-boyfriend down to whatever hole he had crawled into for the night before he would pay you a visit. It was another thought that brought a pleasant smile to his face.
He had a soft spot for you, in an odd way. Watching you get shoved and pushed around by your deadbeat boyfriend had made him pity you at first.
Earlier in the year, a few months after you got hired, he decided he wanted to put you out of your misery. He wanted to watch and laugh as he slit your throat, watch your boyfriend have a sudden change of heart, to watch him beg and cry for you. It was amusing how people never truly appreciated what they had until they lost it, and he took pleasure in spreading the misery of his message every year. A few months ago, he had a change of heart.
He thought he wanted you dead; he had almost been eager to kill you, but things were different now.
When he thought back to why he started all this in the first place, it all came from his grief and anger. When Billy died, his world had ended, and Sidney and all her stupid little friends being dead just wasn’t enough. He didn’t have anyone else to vent his anger on, no one else to hunt down in Billy’s name, until that first Valentine’s Day, when he blacked out and killed a couple on lovers’ lane.
He didn’t remember the kill itself, but he remembered the satisfaction he felt afterward, the sense of unrivaled catharsis when he examined the wreckage afterward. He never felt closer to Billy than when he had some poor soul’s dying heart in his hands, surrounded by a bloody mess. He resolved to make it a tradition. Why did other people get to have sappy little love lives when his soulmate had gotten ripped away from him? Somewhere in his mind, it seemed only fair. It was a twisted homage to Billy’s work. Love and broken hearts were what had caused all this in the first place, what set everything into motion.
It all seemed so fitting.
So, every year, he tracked down and slaughtered a happy couple somewhere around town, watched the news reports the next day, and then moved on. He’d spend the day at Billy’s grave telling him all about it. And more recently, during a few of his visits on the weekends, he had told Billy all about you. All about this crush, this weird crush that he couldn’t stamp down. He hadn’t had a crush in years, not since Billy. But you were just so much like him, that deep-dark look in your eyes, that languid demeanor you had around him, the barely restrained anger you kept under wraps.
You didn’t bat an eye at the deep scars on his face, didn’t pity him, but didn’t treat him like a freak either. But beneath it all, he could tell what made you tick, that deep you had to be as sick as he was.
You were subtle, the way your pupils dilated when he got a bloody nose or a cut, when he told you he kept a pocket knife on him, and spotted that light red flush crawling up your neck. But he really couldn’t resist when you would tell him exactly how you would gut a particularly vile customer or stage a well-thought-out accident for someone just as annoying, all while muttering under your breath. You would try to laugh it off as a dark joke, but he could tell there was a little more truth to it than you liked to admit, that maybe if you could get away with it, you would at least try.
He would kill to see that, to see you snap, bloody and raw, maybe with one of his knives in your grip, the blade buried in some poor sucker’s ribcage. He would be downright ecstatic to catch it on camera. You were just adorable, sure, you were bossy, a little mean, but it was all the things he liked about you that reminded him so much of Billy. You could be so sweet, loving-- almost gentle-- and he knew that if he got his hands on you, he could crack through the ‘rough and tough’ exterior, peel it back to see you for what you really were, what you would be if you hadn’t had your heart broken so many times.
It was the first time in years he had felt flustered around someone. Sometimes it made his heart hurt, made him wonder if Billy would be angry that he had fallen for someone new. He asked a few times, with no response, of course. But considering he wasn’t struck by lightning from the sky or didn’t spontaneously combust right at Billy’s grave, he assumed that maybe Billy was okay with it.
He couldn’t resist calling you every other night, listening to your pretty voice, listening to you snark off to him before hanging up. Other times, you’d talk, try to goad him into speaking, but he never replied. It made it all the more when he would come to work the next day and hear you tell him all about the ‘pervert who wouldn’t stop my house phone’. One way or another, he was settling everything tonight; he could be patient, but right now, he didn’t want to be; he couldn’t be without some sort of sign that maybe these feelings that had been festering inside of him for months could be reciprocated.
Now, he was sitting in front of your ex-boyfriend’s house, his breath fogging the rubber of his mask, watching him through the dirty window of a suburban house tucked away in a quiet little neighborhood, watching him make out on the living room couch with some tall blonde he didn’t recognize.
Maybe this small change of plans would work out in his favor after all.
── .✦ 🥀
You couldn’t believe it, really.
You’d had the whole night planned, a reservation for a decent restaurant and a nice change of perfume spritzed clothes packed in the trunk of your car. You had even worn the scratchy black lace lingerie under your work clothes all day, with makeup to match. You regretted it now, having planned so much shit with the simple expectation that your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend would just show up and give you the time of day.
You flopped onto the couch, not even bothering to strip out of your work clothes yet. You were exhausted; you’d spent the entire day on your feet at the front counter, dealing with crappy customers and trying to ignore the fact that your now ex-boyfriend was a complete deadbeat. But you settled in, a glass of deep red wine in one hand and a box of Valentine’s heart-shaped chocolates on your lap, the kind without the fillings inside.
Just as you were truly settled into the couch cushions, sunk down, and scrolling through Netflix leisurely. You startled, your home phone on the side table started loudly ringing, vibrating the side table. You were quick to scowl as you glanced over to the offending object. You had been getting these calls at least once a day for half the year. The calls came from an unknown number, and usually, when you asked who was calling, you would only get heavy breathing on the other end as a response. Probably a pervert, you guessed, or maybe at worst, you had a stalker.
“If you’re just going to breathe on the phone again, I can tell you I’m not in the mood. So either say something, or fuck off.” You muttered into the receiver as you leaned back on the couch, indulging in the chocolates you had bought for yourself, licking your lips.
“All alone on Valentine’s? That’s pretty sad,” the voice drawled, raspy and low, languid, like he had nothing else to be doing, all the time in the world to harass you.
“Not as sad as a guy with enough free time to bother me every night,” you quipped, tilting your head as you finally settled on a movie you liked, a horror movie you had watched over and over again.
“Yeah?” He replied.
“Yeah.” You whispered back.
“Well, maybe I just like to hear your voice,” It was pure charm oozing from his voice, smooth, but manipulative at the same time. You wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t affect you just a little, but the idea of entertaining a random stranger, possibly a stalker, over your date with Stu tomorrow, was something you couldn’t think about.
“…Cute. But I’ve got a date.”
“Really? Who’s the lucky guy?” It was almost as if he was feigning surprise, but there was a slight undertone of excitement, maybe anticipation.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you retorted, a hint of amusement creeping into your tone of voice. If you couldn’t get anything out of the guy, you would at least entertain yourself.
“Fair enough,” he replied easily enough, you could almost hear his shrug over the line.
You frowned, almost dissatisfied with his reply. You had expected a little bit more pushback. “Who are you anyway? You’ve been calling for almost half a year.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he parroted back at you, teasing you.
“…I guess I should’ve expected that,” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you shoved another chocolate into your mouth, picking up your TV remote and starting to scroll again.
Things got quiet for a minute, but you could hear the sound of fabric shuffling over the other end of the receiver, until you heard a light knock at your door. “I got a gift for you~!” He cooed in a sing-song tone, something thudding against the carpet at your front door. “Open it.” His tone dropped to a deadpan again, sending a small shiver up your spine.
Your eyes widened, but you didn’t move from your spot on the couch, simply set your tv remote and the box of chocolates in your lap to the side. Instead, you slowly turned and peered over the back of the couch, spotting a dark red heart-shaped box tied in a glittery red ribbon, culminating in a bow on the top. Somehow, he had managed to slip it through the mail slot.
You slowly got up, padding over to the front door. You knew it was a stupid move, one of the first rules of a horror movie you were recklessly breaking, but you couldn’t help your morbid curiosity.
You stepped closer, crouching down to examine the box and gently tugging the ribbon undone. It was leaking something dark and viscous onto the doormat, sticking to the threads of the rug. You stood up and backed away slightly, gently nudging the lid off of it with your foot. Inside, nestled in delicate dark red tissue paper, was an oozing, bloody heart, surprisingly fresh, almost as if it were still pulsing. You didn’t even feel a pang of shock when you saw it, only a vague intrigue.
“I think it’s pretty fitting… You wanted his heart, now you’ve got it, baby.” He giggled over the phone, the voice changer causing it to echo oddly. “Alllllll yours.” He paused and sounded eerily excited when he added, “You like it?”
In a way, it was almost cute; he seemed oddly eager, almost overjoyed to have dropped something like this practically at your feet— it was familiar in a way you didn’t want to think about. “Sweet… But disgusting,”
“Everyone has their kinks, baby,” he mocked before his tone dropped to some deadly serious. “Now guess which door I’m at.”
You stood up abruptly, backing away from the front door. “It doesn’t matter; all the doors are locked.” You weren’t bluffing; all of the doors were locked, but you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of doubt lingering in the back of your mind. When was the last time you had even checked to make sure everything was locked?
“Are you sure about that?” He was trying to get you to falter, to doubt yourself, to wander around and start checking all the doors and windows, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You glanced around for a moment before you slowly started backing yourself up the stairs, keeping an eye on the front door.
By the time you made it to the top of the stairs, you quickly dashed down the hall, shoving your bedroom door open and then firmly shut. Your breath hitched as you fumbled with the door handle and locked yourself in your bedroom, listening to breathing over the phone,
“Alright, I’m done playing. Tell me who you are, or I’ll call the cops.” You deadpanned, clearly the guy was lingering somewhere around your house, you were hoping the threat would scare him off and give you a small piece of information in return, but you didn’t get to finish that train of thought.
Your closet door lurched open, a shocked scream bubbling from your throat as he grabbed your shoulders from behind and jerked you backward against his chest. You jerked and thrashed in his grip, the phone falling from your grip and cracking against the floor, the hard plastic pieces shattering and skittering to the far corners of the room.
His arm wrapped around your neck, and you immediately kicked at his knees, causing him to stagger. He shoved you forward with a growl, and you lost your balance, grabbing handfuls of his black robe in your hands as you began to fall backward. You yanked him down to the ground with you, his heavy weight crashing into you. Your back hit the floor, knocking the wind out of you, and you saw the glint of moonlight reflecting off something metal in the corner of your eye, coming down as you quickly dodged sharply.
The knife was embedded in the splintered wood floors, mere inches from your face. You glanced over with unsteady breaths, noticing the sharpened edge reflecting in the dim light of the house, and noticed a small heart engraved on the blade and a name you couldn’t make out in the dark.
You fought to get back up, your hands jutting out and clawing, but not before he grabbed your wrists and yanked you back down to the floor with him. You trashed against him, but you couldn’t quite get the upper hand, no matter how hard you tried. He pinned you down, your wrists gathered in one of his hands as he shoved you down onto your back, his weight coming down to straddle your hips, his knees pressing against either side of you.
He reached over with his free hand and pried his knife from the floor, pressing the flat of it against your cheek in a triumph that made you scrunch your nose in a sneer.
“Thought you were clever, huh?” He spat it out before he sighed. He couldn’t be disappointed; he surely expected you to be a fighter.
You squirmed, but you couldn’t help the bright red blush that settled over your skin.
“Thought you were just gonna lock yourself in here and call the cops on me?” He taunted, “C’mon… did you think I was here to kill you?” His tone was almost amused, like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to laugh at you or if he admired the effort you had put into fighting him off.
You breath hitched as he slid the blade down your cheek and settled the sharp edge of the blade against your throat.
“Nah… C’mon, I brought you a gift, like a gentleman. Y’know?” He mused, carefully unbuttoning your top with one hand, his fingers twitching. You squirmed with each button he managed to work off, feeling your frustration mounting when you couldn’t find any wiggle room with the threat of his knife lingering against your throat.
“Not very gentlemanly to break into my house-“ You snarked back at him, even in your precarious position, you couldn’t help but argue.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re my Valentine this year,” he cooed at you, your top halfway unbuttoned now. And at that, you felt your temper flare, your blood boiling, and before you could really think about it, you reared back and lurched forward, anger overriding your fear for a split second as you head-butted him.
“Ah— Fuck!” He hissed, he regained his composure, quickly gripping your wrists tighter, his empty hand grabbing you, forcing your cheek down to the floor, holding your head down. He growled, ripping his mask off and tossing it to the side. “Can’t breathe in that thing anyway…”
Your eyes widened, and your breath hitched as recognition suddenly hit you. He had definitely been more familiar to you than you originally thought.
“Stu?” You hissed, itching to strangle him for the struggle.
“Surprise, baby!” He chirped, before giggling at your expression of sheer irritation. But it was all on him, every single bit of your attention just for this moment; it almost made it worth it.
“You… you…“ Your tone was tinged with disbelief, then soaked in pure annoyance. You were almost irritated, less that he had almost stabbed you and more that he had caught you off guard, causing you to falter— to even scream in shock. All things you would’ve been damned to ever let anyone see or hear.
He leaned down with a smug, self-satisfied smile, hovering mere inches from your pursed lips.
You swallowed hard, staring up at his blown wide pupils, then lazily drifting down to his lips. You almost wanted to punch him in his smug-ass face, but you were confronted with the uncomfortable sensation of throbbing heat building up in your core, radiating down your thighs. The whole ordeal had turned you on, the chase, the fight, him hovering above you, keeping you pinned to the ground with his weight perfectly settled against your hips, where you could feel the press of his length against your abdomen.
Stu’s eyes widened in surprise when he felt you flex your thighs before squeezing them together, then he simply looked strangely giddy. But he didn’t point it out, in some attempt not to scare you off, maybe, but he switched gears quickly, holstering his knife somewhere at his hip underneath his robe.
He finished unbuttoning your cheap black top with his free hand, tugging it open and pulling it above your head, then balling up the fabric and tossing it to the other side of the room. He pressed his gloved palms against each side of you, rubbing your ribs with his thumbs and gently prodding at the fat of your breasts.
“Cute…” he mumbled, taking in the lacy black bra you had on. “Did you wear a matching set?”
Your face went red, heat prickling across your neck and cheek. “Why don’t you check for yourself?” You challenged, squirming underneath him.
He only smiled, taking it as full permission to start unbuttoning your pants, lifting himself off of you, and pushing your knees to your chest as he worked them down your legs and tossed them in the same direction as your top.
“Dumb fuck was missing out,” He laughed, finally releasing your wrists as his hands wandered down and groped at your thighs before he hoisted you up in one smooth motion, settling your ankles at his shoulders, lifting your hips and cushioning them with his thighs.
He pressed a kiss to the skin of your left ankle, dragging his lips down your leg until he was pressing kisses to your inner thigh.
You took the opportunity to reach up and plant your hands in his hair, now that he wasn’t pinning your hands down. You ran your fingers through his dirty blonde hair, groaning and tugging him down against you as he pressed messy lines of kisses up your abdomen and between your breasts.
He tugged your panties down your legs and off of your ankles, twirling them on his fingers before shoving them into the back pocket of his jeans underneath his robe.
“Those are expensive, prick, I want those back,” you griped. You had paid more than you were really willing to admit for that particular pair, especially to have the matching bra to the set, so you couldn’t help but be a little salty about it. But Stu only shook his head.
“No promises. You might not even want them back after I’m done with them, baby.”
“Gross,” you muttered, but the thought of him jacking himself off to the thought out you, into your panties, sent a thrill through you.
He only laughed, moving back down to bury his head between your thighs. Your hands fisted in his hair, your grip tightening as you felt his warm breath against your folds, then his warm, wet tongue slowly circling your clit, drawing an unceremonious, but pleasurable gasp from you.
He didn’t stop, quickening his pace before he moved down and began to lick between your folds, his surprisingly long tongue plunging into your depths and curling into a sweet spot that made your toes curl. You gasped in surprise, squirming away from him on instinct, but he only tugged you back down roughly against his tongue, plunging into you deeper.
You were so, so close, your orgasm coiling in the pit of your stomach, your walls clenching around his tongue. But once you were right at the precipice, he withdrew from you, licking his lips.
You hissed and hit his shoulder in frustration.
“Ow! Hey, just gimme a second- “ he whined, adjusting you and sliding you down a bit until your ass was settled at the edge of his thighs, almost at his knees, giving him a bit more wiggle room. “So bossy…”
You heard the metallic grinding of the zipper of his jeans getting yanked down, but you couldn’t quite look down enough to see. Instead, you felt the leaking tip of his cock press against the seam of your thighs, slicking them with pre-cum. You could feel his cock throbbing as he gave shallow thrusts against your thighs. He was already painfully hard, and in a way, it stroked your ego.
After he had prepped himself, you felt the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, your thighs flexing in response. He didn’t even wait, impatient now as he thrust himself into you, not giving you any time to stretch or adjust, chasing his own high now.
“F-fuck!” You yelped, squirming against him as you hissed at the stretch.
He set a quick pace, his hips snapping against yours as he started fucking you into the floor.
“Shhh… Shhh…” he hushed you, nuzzling against your calves and kneading your thighs.
He was panting, sweating, sweat dripping from his hairline as his back arched into you. It was a pretty view, his deep blue eyes darting all over your body, every twitch of your muscles, and every hitched breath.
You let your hand wander up, slipping beneath his robe and the sweater underneath and pushing it up his chest, revealing his scarred chest. littered with scars of almost every sort. You ran your fingers over a particularly jagged, faded white scar on his side. He shivered, then keened as you gently prodded at it.
He looked almost lovesick when his hand shot down to grab your hand, pressing desperate kisses against your palm. “You’re perfect…" he panted,
With a few more strong, sharp thrusts, your orgasm hit you in a sudden barrage of white, your body twitching as you involuntarily jerked and ground against him, keeping that rough stimulation until it all subsided.
He watched you closely and only seconds later, he pulled out at the very last moment, his cum spilling across your stomach in spurts as he let out a low moan. You had both finished embarrassingly fast, but you were still left panting, a dull afterglow settling over you as your pussy throbbed.
He gave you a sly, cocky, fucked-out smile, and somehow it was the most charming smile you had ever seen on a man.
── .✦ 🥀
You turned on the news the next morning, freshly showered, a steaming cup of coffee in your hand, and wrapped in a fluffy white robe as you lounged back on the couch. When you thought back on your night, it all felt like a hazy fever dream, but the evidence was everywhere you looked, from the dried stains on the rug by your front door to the cut-open window screen in your bedroom.
But for once, you could say you’d had a nice Valentine’s Day.
They were airing the latest news report on the heartbreak killer, a lovesick couple found dead in their home, one with his heart ripped out. Your ex-boyfriend and what you could only guess was his mistress, left in a bloody heap. You felt zero remorse, only a slight pang of bitterness as you changed the channel to whatever daytime television was airing, taking a sip of your coffee as your gaze shifted to the side.
On the coffee table was a light pink Valentine’s card, covered in red hearts and flaky red glitter. You didn’t hesitate to pick it up, crossing one leg over the other as you carefully glanced it over. On the inside of it, a message was scrawled in messy glitter red pen:
“8:00 PM, Woodsboro Diner. <3
Call Me ;) - XXX-XXX-XXXX”
── .✦ thank you for reading! all comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated. ✦ .ᐟ
Contains: Regular World AU, Stalking Mentions, Unaware Voyeurism, Dubcon. Masturbation, Some Dom/Sub, Humiliation (if you squint), Cock Warming, Free Use, Somno, PiV, Oral, Vaginal Fingering, Mask Kink, Dry Humping, Glove Kink, Choking Mention, Edging, Hand Jobs, Restraints, Dacryphilia, Overstim, Size Diff, Scent Kink, Slight Breeding Kink, Just The Tip, Nipple Stim, Body Worship, Roleplay, Sex Tapes, Primal Play, CNC, Mating Press, Headlock, Full Nelson. 🕊️🪦
Event: Halloween! 🎃
Summary: Smut HC's of my man since there's only like 5 fics of him?!?
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༊*·˚ Before getting together, he'd absolutely jerk off while watching you through your window. Usually only when you're changing or also pleasuring yourself. He just can't help himself! He'd last a pathetically short amount of time too, especially if you were also masturbating. It'd only be a few minutes at most before he's spilling in his hand and fighting back moans. His eyes nearly rolling back as he plants his other hand on the side of your house, gloved fingers pressing hard into the wood, trying so hard to not give himself away.
༊*·˚ He's still a little pervert voyeur even when you're dating. You can't lie though, you love it. There's nothing sexier than the sight of him on his knees, stroking his cock while he stares at you rubbing your clit with a vibrator. Or maybe fucking yourself with a dildo that's bigger or thicker than him, making him feel even more pathetic.
It's 10 times hotter when his arms are tied behind his back too. Watching his cock twitch and throb while he breathes heavily, his wide dark eyes giving you a look that says "please touch me or let me touch myself, I'm dying here."
༊*·˚ He loves being inside you as much as possible. He dreamt about it for months and months when he was watching you, and now that he actually gets to feel your warm slick cunt squeezing around him, he wants to feel it as much as possible. If you work from home or just spend a lot of time on your computer, he begs you to sit on his cock while you're at your desk. He always regrets offering though when you spend the afternoon purposely clenching around him, just to get him riled up and deny sex until you're done working.
But sometimes he just can't wait. There's been more than a couple times where he's gripped your hips and started pounding up into you without warning, burying his face into your neck and groaning. If he feels especially needy, he bites and sucks on the skin of your shoulders and neck, leaving a plethora of teeth marks and purple bruises.
༊*·˚ The Knocker loves free use too, going both ways of course. He lives for when you randomly come up to him as he's relaxing on the couch, just to push him on his back and climb atop his face, using his mouth to get yourself off.
He takes full advantage of free use too. It's not uncommon at all for him to come up behind you and bend you over whatever surface is in front of you. Sometimes he fucks you for his own pleasure, sometimes he fingers you and plays with your tits until you gush around his fingers.
༊*·˚ Somno goes hand-in-hand with free use. If you're okay with it, he'd love to fold you in half while you sleep and cum inside you till he passes out. Maybe he'd choose to pull your top up and fuck your tits too, making you wake up to cum on your face and sore nipples from being pinched and rubbed.
He loves it most when you use him while he sleeps though. He has the best orgasms of his life when he wakes up to you bouncing on his morning wood, not caring about anything but your own pleasure.
༊*·˚ When it comes to just regular sessions between you, I think he likes it a little rough. He fucks hard and fast, his tip threatening to hit your cervix with every thrust of his long cock. He has an inhuman stamina too, he could go multiple rounds back to back, not stopping till you're 100 percent satisfied.
༊*·˚ Speaking of being rough, I think he can accidentally get carried away when you give him head. He's a bit of a head pusher without realizing it, he just gets so needy and overwhelmed with pleasure, he ends up gripping your hair into a makeshift ponytail before thrusting into your mouth. He immediately stops when he hears you gag, looking down at you with guilty eyes. (You just giggle and give him the go-ahead to continue though.)
༊*·˚ It's not exactly a kink of his, but he also finds it hot when you're wearing lip gloss while you suck him off. He likes seeing the evidence of your act in the form of a pink sticky ring of gloss around the base of his cock.
༊*·˚ The Knocker is a total munch. A real eater. He could spend hours between your legs, licking and sucking your sensitive clit, slipping his tongue in your hole, getting almost dizzy from how fucking turned on he is from your moans and gasps. On occasion he'll slip two gloved fingers inside, angling himself to hit your g-spot each time he enters.
༊*·˚ If you like him, you probably have a mask kink. And he is more than happy to fulfill your fantasies. Want him to keep his usual one on? That's perfect. Want him to dress up as your favorite masked character? Sure, who do you want. Ghostface? Vigilante? Frontman? König? Just say it and he'll do it.
This goes well with roleplay, which I'll touch more on later.
༊*·˚ Dry humping isn't his biggest kink, but he does quite enjoy it with you. It gives him a major ego boost and hard-on watching you desperately grind on his bulge like a bitch in heat, too worked up to even get naked. His eyes stay glued to where your clothed pussy meets his crotch, feeling himself twitch in his pants, just aching to stuff you full. But seeing you enjoy yourself like this? He can wait a little while longer to fuck your brains out.
༊*·˚ He also noticed you really liked his black leather gloves. So of course he had to incorporate them into sex more often. He'll slap and grip your ass with them on; play with your tits; finger you and make you lick them clean; and of course, wrap those nice strong hands around your throat while he fucks you into the mattress.
༊*·˚ Now let's get to more of his kinks.
༊*·˚ Edging. This one goes both ways, though he hates to admit he loves when you tease him like that.
His favorite way to be edged is when receiving a blow job. You'll have his cock shoved down your throat, practically fucking your own face on it, and then when you feel it throbbing in your mouth, you pull away. It leaves him almost gasping for air when he feels the sudden loss of contact. He looks down at you like "what the hell?", but you don't say anything.
Instead you take his cock in your hand, slowly stroking it while you lick and suck his balls, peering up at him through your lashes. He whines and bucks his hips into your hand, whispering please under his breathe. You don't comply though, not until he begs a few more times at least.
And he thought that'd be the end of that for tonight. But when you do it again next time he's close? He knows he's in for a long ride.
But don't worry, he definitely gets his payback every time.
༊*·˚ When it comes to you, he pairs edging with restraints and crying. He LOVES cuffing your hands to the headboard and fucking you till you sob.
He'd be balls deep with your legs wrapped around his hips, hitting your sweet spot with nearly every thrust. One hand holding a vibrator to your clit, the other hand rubbing circles on your nipple.
The three sensations combined has you like putty in his hands, you're hardly fighting back on the restraints anymore. You're just too fucked out to be a brat right now.
Besides the constant moans and whimpers pouring from your mouth, he can feel that you're about to cum. With all the tight squeezing around his cock, and the juices dripping from your pussy.
That's when he decides to stop. Suddenly, and all together. The sudden loss of friction has you whining, pouting up at him.
"What... why'd you stop?"
He doesn't respond. Instead, he just tilts his head to the side, looking down at you through his mask. You can tell by the look in his eyes he's smiling. Jerk.
You groaned, kicking your legs at him and pulling at your handcuffs. "Ugh... pleaseee keep going. Pleaseee."
He huffed out a quiet laugh as you kept pleading with him. But, he eventually gave in. That's not to say he let you finish though, he gave you the exact treatment you'd given him. Only he didn't let you cum until those pretty tears starting staining your cheeks.
༊*·˚ Overstimulation is another way he gets you to cry tears of pleasure. It mostly happens when he's eating you out. He'll have you going round after round after round, cumming on his face the entire night until you genuinely can't hold back the sobs.
༊*·˚ Your size difference is something The Knocker really gets off on as well. He's much taller and stronger than you, and he uses it to his advantage. He often shows off his strength in bed by holding you down, picking you up, or putting you in whatever position he chooses.
One of your favorite moments was the time he pinned you up the bedroom wall, legs over his shoulders as you ate you out.
༊*·˚ Scent. He's been obsessed with you since the moment he began stalking you met you, and that includes being obsessed with every part of you. Sometimes just smelling your natural scent mixed with that lovely perfume you use is enough to get him going.
He also finds himself drawn to your used clothes when you aren't around and he's missing you. If he's horny, he's finding the freshest pair of panties in the laundry basket and sniffing them while he jerks off to your pictures. Maybe he wraps the panties around his cock too.
If he's not in the mood though, he just finds a t-shirt and dresses your pillow in it to cuddle, double the scent of you. :)
༊*·˚ Now, he doesn't actually want to get you pregnant (he wants you all to himself), but he's obsessed with the idea of breeding you. He's just so turned on by the thought of permanently claiming you, tying you to him forever.
So most of the time you fuck, he's doing it raw and giving you a creampie. Whole time picturing how perfect you'd look carrying his offspring, how thick you'd get from the extra weight gain. Sometimes it gets him feeling a little dizzy, and starts to wonder if he should ask you to get off birth control.
༊*·˚ Similar to edging, he loves making you beg for him by teasing you. His favorite way to do this is to get you all hot n bothered, just to only put the tip in.
But first he'd slide his cock up and down your folds, his fat tip bumping against your clit each time he moves up. You gasp and push your hips up slightly each time too, hoping he gets the hint to just fuck you already.
Of course he knows what you want, he just wants to hear you pout and beg for it. When you do get an attitude and go "Ughh, pleasee just fuck me already!" He just hums in response, sliding only his tip into your cunt and fucking you with that.
He probably strokes his cock too just to get you even more horny. And it works, he has you pathetically begging to be used before he actually stuffs his whole dick in you.
༊*·˚ Not a kink, but Knocker is definitely a tits guy. No matter the size or shape, he's loves giving them a lot of attention. Sometimes he'll sneak up behind you so he can snake his arms up your shirt and play with your tits. (You can literally feel his boner growing against your ass when he does this.)
If you're fucking in missionary, best believe he'll always have one nipple in his mouth, and one in his hands.
Tit fucking is a big love of his too, like I said previously, he thinks it's hottest to do it while you're sleeping.
༊*·˚ Body worship! It doesn't happen often, since he's usually more rough and fast. But on nights where he takes his time, he really takes his time. He's kissing and caressing every inch of your body as he slowly undresses you, whispering praises in his low gravely voice. He spends quite a long time on foreplay. Starting with kisses on your neck, then moving down to your tits, finally making his way to your pussy. But before he goes down on you, he always bites and kisses the inside of your thighs.
And only after he's made you cum on his face a few times will he finally fuck you. Only this time he's slow and deep, not rushing or being too rough this time. (Though you'll still end up with bruised hips from how tight his hands were gripping you.)
༊*·˚ Sex tapes! You don't do them often, but he loves it when you let him. He only really uses them when you're away for more than a day, but he still has plenty saved.
༊*·˚ He likes roleplay, it's fun. But he loves it when it's paired with CNC or primal play. Some of his favorite scenarios are...
Pretending to be an intruder who fucks you while you sleep and records it for blackmail.
Dressing as Ghostface, who chases his victim through the house before finally catching her in the basement. But instead of killing, he takes advantage of her before snapping a polaroid pic of the aftermath.
Suiting up as your favorite COD character, hunting you down in the woods and fucking you from behind on the ground, and again against a tree.
༊*·˚ Now onto his fav positions...
༊*·˚ Mating press. It allows him to be as deep as possible, and let's him have full access to your tits.
༊*·˚ He likes the headlock and full nelson for the same reasons: he gets to show off his strength, and these positions keep you pinned against him. No running away for you! 🤭
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A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN 👻 Please have fun tonight but also be safe! I love you all!
𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚢, dom knocker, AFAB reader, 𝚗𝚘 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢/𝚗, 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎-𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, no established relationship, 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚜, 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕, 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊?/𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚝, 𝚠𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚖𝚜, 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍, 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛, author is new to fanfic posting on Tumblr, author has it bad for this guy, 7'001 words.
Snow fell in thick, soundless sheets, swallowing the world in white as you trudged back toward home. Each step crunched softly beneath your boots, the familiar rhythm grounding after hours spent underground. Dealing with constant cave mobs had left you with a slight headache; the second you found some good ore for your needs, they all came at you from the left and from the right. A bucket hung from your hand, water dark against the pale snow, while your pack weighed heavily with stone and ore, still cold from the cave’s depths. Somewhere beyond the hills, past the frozen spruce and the endless drifts, lay warmer land- grass instead of frost, rain instead of snow- and part of you wished you had made a smarter decision.
You absolutely loved the snow, and when you were choosing your place to build and set up home, you decided to live in the snow biome. However, you wished you had thought ahead of time and chosen a warmer climate near the biome instead of just living in it. It had become a hassle, and your dream of joy lacked a good environment for a proper farm. Which meant a lot of traveling and stocking materials and food. You should probably invest in a horse once the opportunity arrives.
The storm blurred everything. Sky and ground blended together, the horizon erased until your little cabin felt less like a destination and more like a memory you were walking toward on faith alone. Snow dusted your lashes and melted down the back of your neck. It was quiet out here. Too quiet. No wolves howling, no crackle of lava, not even the distant groan of shifting ice. Just wind, and your breathing.
You felt it then- that familiar prickle at the back of your mind. Not fear, exactly. More like being watched through the trees, through the snowfall, through the dark spaces between blocks. The Knocker was nearby. You could tell the way you always could, a presence pressing gently at the edge of your awareness. He hadn’t bothered you yet, hadn’t followed or called out, teasing you like usual, so you kept walking. No point in worrying over something that hasn't decided to make itself known today when you're already so tired.
Still… Your grip tightened on the bucket as another sound echoed faintly in the distance, half-lost to the storm. The sound of breathing. You didn't dare look towards it at this point; you figured you'd best not. You had maintained the sanity you had left today just well enough to keep pushing, and you couldn't bear to just throw it all away. That's the thing with him. The Knocker. The thing that had been stalking and messing with you for quite a while at this point. He was unpredictable, and you could never fully understand what his reasoning or line of thinking was.
Sometimes he just watched; other times he would steal items, chase, or jump at you. Toss around or break your lanterns outside your home…sometimes you find him to be a little useful. He made you feel less lonely even if it wasn't a good thing, and other times you found him so annoying. So. So annoying. And of course, there were times when he scared you out of your skin. Just randomly appearing; suddenly jumping at you; the sudden loud knock while you were lost in thought, among other things. It grew tiring sometimes and was not something you felt like putting up with today.
By the time the cabin finally emerged from the whiteout, it felt like a small miracle.
The shape of it appeared first, dark spruce logs cutting through the storm like a shadow, and then the glow of lantern light struggling against the snow. Relief loosened something tight in your chest. Home. Warmth. A door you could close between yourself and whatever was breathing out there.
The front of the cabin was nearly buried. Snow had piled up against the walls and steps, drifting high enough that the door would be impossible to open without some effort. With a tired sigh, you set your pack down beneath the overhang and swapped the bucket for a shovel, already half-regretting the decision to live here.
Each scrape sent up a soft hiss as snow slid away in chunks. You only really wanted to scrape away the snow just in case any ice formed, and you were lucky enough to not fall, but also the snowstorm would pile it on, and you didn't want to get snowed in the next morning. Your fingers burned with cold, numb even through your gloves. The storm pressed closer, wind howling now, rattling the lanterns you’d hung along the eaves.
You heard a sudden knock.
You froze.
Not loud. Just suddenly. Just a single, hollow sound, wood against knuckles, carried unnaturally clear through the storm.
“Not today,” you muttered under your breath, forcing yourself to keep shoveling. Acknowledge him, and he’d only escalate. That was how it always went.
Another scrape of snow revealed the bottom step, then the next. That’s when you heard it, an unmistakable groan, low and drawn-out, drifting from the treeline to your left. You straightened slowly, shovel still in hand. You sighed in slight annoyance. A zombie stumbled into view, its skin almost blending into the snow despite its green hue, arms outstretched as it dragged itself forward slowly thanks to the wind and snow. Behind it, a second shape moved, smaller, quicker. A skeleton, bow already raised, with the faint rattle of bones cutting through the wind. Of course.
You swore under your breath and dropped the shovel, reaching for your sword just as an arrow buried itself in the snow where your head had been a second before. The fight was quick but messy, steel biting into rotting flesh, another arrow skimming your arm before you closed the distance. The zombie went down first, then the skeleton, its bones scattering across the ground like dropped tools. Then you had almost gotten snuck up on by a creeper, the winds almost drowning it out, but your gut feeling saved you. Because of course tonight they would come out more. You rolled your eyes.
After ensuring the area was clear at least at a distance you were comfortable with, you settled for that. Your breath came out in shaky clouds. The storm swallowed the last echoes of the fight almost instantly, leaving you standing alone again, heart pounding. That’s when you realized how quiet it had become. Too quiet. Even with the environment and winds around you, the monsters suddenly went quiet, and you could no longer hear the spiders walking around in the distance. You glanced around a bit, the paranoia seeping in…but you quickly refrained.
‘Just ignore it,’ you told yourself.
The lantern nearest the door flickered violently, swinging despite the lack of wind beneath the overhang. Snow crunched behind you, slow, deliberate footsteps that didn’t match the rhythm of any mob you knew. You didn’t turn. The feeling of a presence pressed close, just behind your shoulder. You could feel it like cold fingers grazing the back of your neck. Now you turned. Holding your sword up as if expecting something. You looked around again when you saw nothing. You huffed quickly, retrieving the shovel you dropped, letting the snow slide off the side as you went back inside.
Oh, sweet relief when you finally shut the door. And the warmth of home sweet home. It was almost liberating to escape the wind biting at your nose and ears. All you could think of was relaxing. And definitely not going back outside for now to do fuck all.
Warmth wrapped around you almost instantly, the crackling fireplace chasing the cold from your bones. For a moment, you just stood there, breathing it in: woodsmoke, wool, bread, home. You shrugged your boots off and let them thud to the floor, the weight gone at last. Tools followed, carefully set on the workbench out of habit more than energy. Your armor came next, piece by piece, metal clinking softly as you placed it back on its rack where it belonged. The silence inside the cabin felt earned.
Changing into softer clothes felt like a small victory. Letting yourself exist without the weight of survival gear digging into your skin. Exhaustion settled deep, but it was the good kind, the kind that meant today had counted. You could’ve mined longer, traveled farther, done more… but you didn't have to waste the day.
You moved about the cabin slowly, almost reverently, tending the fire and setting a kettle on the stove. Intending to make a warm drink, anything to help chase away the remaining chill. Then you heard another knock. You stiffened.
““You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, staring at the door. The sound came again, soft but deliberate, wood on gloved knuckles. Familiar and yet unwelcome at this moment. Annoyance flared hotter than fear. Of course he couldn’t let you have one quiet evening, not even one. You waited. No footsteps. No breathing. Just the storm outside and that damn knocking, spaced out like he was savoring them.
With a sigh, you crossed the room and peered out the window. Nothing. No shape in the snow. No shadow between the trees. Not even footprints. Not the usual signs you look for when you try to spot him. You raised a brow, scanning the white blur beyond the glass before stepping back. Fine. Whatever game he was playing, you weren’t biting. The cabin creaked then, low and…slow, wood shifting as the wind pressed against it.
You huffed. “Stupid house…”
Turning away, you took a step toward the hallway… Hearing another creak, this time closer, you narrowed your eyes. You could be slow sometimes. But you're not that stupid. You take another step…
and he lunged from the shadows. The axe swung around the corner in a flash of dark metal and motion. You barely had time to gasp before you stumbled back, hands snapping up on instinct. Your palms slammed against the handle, fingers curling tight as you caught it mid-swing. The impact jolted through your arms, teeth clenching as you pushed back against his strength.
“I’m not in the mood for this shit, Knocker!” you snapped, feet slightly skidding on the floor as you forced him back a step with the position, but it was easy for him to push back.
His grin split wide in the dim firelight, eyes gleaming. “You’ve been ignoring me all day.” His voice was raspy and rough, like he hadn't used it in a while.
“I wonder why!” you shot back sarcastically, shoving the axe aside and breaking the hold. Your heart was pounding now, adrenaline burning away the last of your calm. “I was busy. You know, surviving?”
He tilted his head, unbothered, shadows clinging to him like they belonged there. That signature ear -to-ear smile was giving you the creeps at this moment. Why couldn't he have just been decent and behaved well today?
“You didn’t even look for me,” he said. A hint of restraint and amusement in his tone.
“Again, I wonder why!" You spat in that same sarcastic tone, stepping back when you noticed the smallest jolt of movement in his arms; you weren't really planning to get axed to death at the moment. He just had to feel murderous today, didn't he? How perfectly convenient for you. (Not)
He did move. But not like he was trying to kill you.
The axe swung again, yes, but wide. Predictable. Almost lazy. You saw the opening instantly and ducked under it, boots sliding across the floor as the blade sailed over your head and buried itself in the doorframe behind you instead. You didn’t hesitate to reach for the dagger sitting just perfectly on the counter, enough for you to grab.
Your dagger flashed up, and you slashed across his forearm, not deep enough to cripple but more than enough to make your point. You really hoped that he would do that thing where he faded off into a cloud of mist like sometimes, but instead he hissed, more surprised than hurt, and stepped back with a sharp laugh.
“Oh,” he said, eyes alight. “You are cranky today.”
“And you are feeling axe -murder-y today…back off,” you warned, blade steady now, heart hammering. You weren’t playing. You couldn’t afford it as far as you were concerned.
He lifted his hands in mock surrender, axe still dangling loosely from one. “I just wanted your attention. But this is fine too.”
“You could’ve knocked like a normal person,” you said.
He tilted his head. “I did.”
You narrowed your eyes at the comment; even though technically he was right, you lunged. He hadn’t expected that. You drove forward, pushing him back step by step, dagger flicking in tight, efficient movements. Though he seemed more amused than anything. He blocked with the axe handle, metal ringing through the cabin, but you didn’t give him room to breathe. A kick to his knee made him stumble. Your elbow caught his ribs. Not enough to drop him, but enough to remind him you knew how to fight and you're not stupid. Even if you had a good enough chance to put more force there, he could still handle the hit. You know that.
“Hey,” he said, half-laughing, half-interested now. “That’s not how this usually goes.”
“Then maybe you should’ve stayed outside,” you snapped. After having such a long day, you supposed…You were a bit more irritated. But he still broke into your house without warning again. So you didn't feel guilty… He literally stalks you. Why would you feel guilty? You shoved past him and bolted down the hallway. Strategy. You need a strategy at this point. Because clearly he wasn't leaving you alone.
The space narrowed, the walls closing in, familiar turns flashing past. You heard him behind you, boots deliberately slow and unhurried. He wasn’t chasing. He was following.
That pissed you off more than anything. You skidded into your bedroom and spun; the axe whistled through the doorway. You caught it…again. You were doing rather well today in combat. But you could feel he was still playing around. Just not slightly getting more serious, to scare you maybe? Just to pester you and force you to respawn? You don't know. You don't care.
The impact drove you back against the bed, mattress dipping under your weight as you dug your heels in and held. Your arms shook, but you didn’t drop it.
“Still playing?” you growled, teeth clenched.
He leaned into the weapon, looming now, grin back in place but bigger. Sharper.
“I was,” he said. “You weren’t.”
“No,” you shot back, shoving the axe back towards him as much as you could, just enough to make a point. But he pushed back, and you began to see just how much he was holding back strength-wise. Not that you couldn't fight back still, but you could feel the change in force. “I’m trying to make you stop so I can fucking rest finally.” You spat.
That smile was starting to piss you off more. And he suddenly surges forward, pushing the ax again. You grunt as you lose your footing, your back hitting the mattress, your brows furrowing as you look up at him before they suddenly widen in shock. His eyes narrowed at the sight, and he laughed. Suddenly pulling back less of his weight on you.
“That got your attention, did it?" He said, almost teasingly.
You scowl; you want nothing more than to wipe that stupid look off his face. You push against the ad handle, pushing it aside, and he willingly lets you, only to look back down at you with a smug glint in his eye. You grab the collar of his hoodie, pulling him down, and he almost seems surprised. But that signature smile doesn't change. His eyes widen, irises shaking ever so slightly before he calms himself as you open your mouth to speak.
"You just tumbled me on the bed with you, pinning me down after swinging an axe at me; yeah, chances are I would notice that," you growled.
He grips your wrist, tugging it aside, pinning it beside your head, doing the same thing with the other. Your breath hitches in your throat as you glance around at anything other than him before looking back up at him, your heart is beating in your chest, and you almost feel shameful the way heat builds up the back of your neck and face. Great, if he was going to kill you, you hoped he'd just get it over with. Though he's not dumb and he noticed your expression. Just enough to make him suspicious, so he took a gamble with his next words.
"It was fun while it lasted, but I think I should shut down that attitude of yours…"
“You tried to kill me!" You said as if about to be accused of something you didn't do.
“I was just messing around since you wanted to ignore me." He said casually.
He shifts slightly, letting your wrists go, he backs up slightly pulling your legs up higher as he backs up standing over you. You stare up at him, a slight scowl on your face fading into slight shock at how forward he was being.
“But you're not gonna ignore this are you? Well…if you want it.” He said playfully.
Your eyes avert his gaze for a moment, you almost hate how you can feel heat pooling between your legs at the implication he let hang in the air. You sigh, looking up at him swallowing the saliva building in your throat you nod. It was sudden, and it felt like it was moving fast. Agian…he remains unpredictable like always. But perhaps against your better judgement…you feel an instant pull towards him. Part of you hates him so much…but you can't complain when you're pulled out of your thoughts, his hands reaching along the hem of your pants. He looks down at you again. He looks for any signs of debate or denial, and when you say nothing he makes quick work of taking them off, alongside your underwear.
He pulls you by your legs closer to the edge of the bed, and against him. And you shudder at the way he looks at you. You really can't tell what his deal is but it's doing wonders for you right now a shaky exhale escaping you as his hands run along the sides of your thighs like he's just enjoying making you wait. Which…he was. He thought it was hilarious actually, how you had lost that attitude in a split second of being pinned. Then again you hadn't necessarily lost it, you were just being quiet about it at least.
Now you're both breathing heavily, and he tilts his head before kneeling down. You can practically hear the hitch in his breath, his eyes widening, and you're looking over at him curiously. Only to see that he's not looking at you, no, he's got his sights fixated on your cunt. You're already starting to feel nervous under his constant gaze, he seems to notice and grins about it, holding your thighs apart. His eyes were dark, but if they weren't you would have seen that his pupils were blown so wide at the view.
He drags his lengthy tongue between the folds, making you shiver, and an involuntary groan escapes your throat. His gaze is locked into your cunt still, and you almost feel anxious about the way he's looking at it…just staring. You can't tell what's running through his mind. You bite your lip as he drags his tongue over your sensitive nub now and you buck your hips up slightly, your breath catching in your throat as he holds you in place, his hands tightening around either side of your thighs. His lips locking around the bundle of nerves, suckling gently, before opening that smile again, his mouth latching back onto you in a second, his tongue sliding inside your slit.
You writhe under him at the feeling, mouth going slack at the foreign feeling. You weren't expecting his tongue to be so…long? But you could hardly register the morbid curiosity about it, too busy with the matter at hand. His tongue pressed against your walls and you uncontrollably twitched around the appendage. He breathes in slightly, almost feral, moves his tongue inside of you, swabbing it around and pistoning it in and out of your dripping cunt. As you buck your hips up slightly, your hands gripping into the blankets beneath you. And he doesn't even mind you bucking into him at the sensation, all he can think about is you.
You with your sopping wet cunt, and gummy walls squeezing around his tongue, and the heady taste of it. He was shamelessly making out with your pussy. And you were all caught up with those noises and cries that fell upon his ears like music. His tongue was vicious about it… and he knew it too. Knocker was drunk off you and he had no shame for it. He'd press his tongue into every crevice of your channel and make you take it if he wanted. And did.
“Ah- Fuck- Knocker…”
He groaned against your flesh, looking up at your face, you could practically feel that smug grin on his lips as he wrecked you. Yet somehow you found that you couldn't be nearly as annoyed with him tongue fucking you, your hand shooting down to grip that hood of his when he curls his tongue against that specific sensitive spot inside you, your eyes practically rolling back at the feeling, at the way your slick coats his chin, and how he takes full pride in it.
You're both drooling for slightly different but related reasons.
You gasp as he pulls his tongue back and pistons it back in, pushing right against that spot again, and your thighs clamp around his head in response. It's a lot to take, considering it's his fucking tongue... He was surprisingly good at this. You buck your hips into his face, and it does nothing but spurn him on. But when he looks up at your face again his eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief and lust. He inhales your scent, his body shaking as it fills his nostrils, he grips your thighs pulling them apart. Slowly pulling his head back and his tongue following with it. Your head rolls back at the lewd ‘squelch’ you could hear when pulling his tongue out completely. His tongue lightly drags up your inner thigh.
He pants, almost gasping for the oxygen he deprived himself of by burying himself into your cunt. The way he laughs at your expression sends a shiver up your spine.
“Aw, feel better now? No more complaints?”
He teased, his hands still prying your legs nicely for him. You wanted to give him a witty remark so bad, but you were too dazed to even clearly think, nothing more than a babbling mess. Oh, his ego was HIGH at that sight. You were practically speechless. He stands up looking down at you, his smile curving higher as you finally look up at him, head tilting down ever so slightly.
“You're being quiet, no need to be shy, pretty girl…do I have to pull some noise out of you again?”
He asked, fuck, he was over the moon about this, and taking total advantage of it. Somewhere deep down you wanted to smack him upside the head for attacking you again out of nowhere still. But… he was making up for it in a way.
The knocker leaned over you, his breath warm over your throat, one of his hands pushing on the waistband of his pants, the other running up your shirt, pushing it up and over your breasts as his hands caressed the mound of your breasts. Your eyes drifted down, catching the sight of his cock springing free from its confines. It's hard, and the size of it makes your face heat up and your eyes widen slightly as you look back up at him. He tilts his head, having caught your gaze, his smile growing.
“Fuck …that's…”
You start, but you can't seem to find the words to really say. Big? Turning you on? Definitely both. But still. His hand moves up from your breast, caressing your face.
“Are you good with this?"
He asked.
Well, it was oddly endearing how he still had manners and ensured consent. You quickly nod, already feeling the heat still building up between your legs. He'd better finish what he started after all.
He easily flips you over, adjusting your position until your face is nearly shoved into the pillows but not quite there; his cockhead presses just so, right against your entrance, sliding up over it and collecting your arousal on it. You hear him keen in your ear as he wraps his other arm around you, looping over you to put you in a headlock lacking just enough force to choke you.
He pushes his hips forwards, his length sliding inside of you. One of your hands grips the fabric of his hoodie, clenching around his forearm with a quiet whimper. He pauses, letting himself sink inside your heat with a groan. When he finally thrusts into you, your body is slightly pushed forward at the force of it. He grinds his hips into you slightly, and your eyes roll back, his length pressing into every tight spot.
The headlock turned into a thrilling vise, holding your head at an angle that made you feel utterly exposed and slightly lightheaded. Each vulgar thrust of his thick, rigid cock into your burning pussy was a violent assertion of ownership, a relentless invasion that made your vision swim. His hips slammed against your ass with a wet, meaty slap, driving his throbbing shaft deeper, harder into your slick heat. You felt yourself stretch, open, engulfing his immense length with a greedy suction that pulled a guttural groan from his chest.
“Damn pretty girl," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear, mingling with the heady scent of your sweat and arousal. "So needy, isn't it?” He whispered playfully in your ear. It was almost insane how good he was fucking you considering you were fighting earlier, and you almost forgot about his stalker tendencies…or lifestyle, rather.
Your eyes, indeed, welled with tears, not of pain, but of an overwhelming, exquisite pleasure. A delicious burning spread through your core, radiating from where his cock relentlessly pistoned inside you. The slick friction against your clit with each deep stroke sent jolts of electric ecstasy through your nerves, making your hips involuntarily buck against his powerful rhythm.
"Oh... fuck," you gasped, a strangled cry torn from your throat as he plunged again, so deep you felt the head of his cock bump against your cervix. Your pussy clenched around him, milking every inch of his hard flesh, desperate for more, even as your body trembled on the verge of splintering, even as he nearly split you apart mentally, fucking you stupid.
The room was a symphony of raw lust: the wet schlop-schlop of skin meeting skin, the heavy slap of his hips against your ass, your ragged moans escalating into desperate whimpers, and his low, growling grunts of effort and satisfaction. His fingers, still gripping your hip, tighten slightly, no doubt leaving bruises, your breasts heaving with each breath. "You're soaking wet for me," he whispered, his voice laced with triumph, punctuated by the relentless pound, pound, pound of his fucking.
“Oh- fuck, knocker-" you whined, barely coming off clear enough.
Your voice seems to encourage him, as he drives into you with renewed ferocity, slamming into your deepest depths. Each impact sent a fresh wave of sensation washing over you, making your legs tremble uncontrollably. Your pussy felt swollen; bruised in the most delicious way; stretched to its absolute limit, yet still craving the brutal force of his invasion. The pressure built, a coil tightening in your belly, spreading through your limbs, making your entire body vibrate with impending release. His cock was a relentless, hot brand inside you, burning a path to your climax. You were his, completely and utterly at his mercy, and the thought was just another fuel to the inferno raging between your legs.
He kept up his brutal, relentless pace, each thrust almost feeling like a deeper invasion than the last, until the world dissolved into a blinding white-hot flash. All you could think about was him. Just as all the knocker could think about was you. The pressure in your core coiled tighter and tighter, a spring pulled to its absolute limit, and then snapped.
A violent, shuddering orgasm ripped through your body, convulsing you from head to toe. Your back arched, your legs twitching involuntarily, desperate to meet every last inch of his withdrawing and re-entering cock. A loud, primal cry tore from your throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure and release, completely beyond your control. You screamed his name, or maybe just a guttural sound that begged for more, for less, or for everything.
Ecstasy, so potent it felt like a drug, coursed through every nerve ending, making your muscles clench and spasm around his thick shaft. Your cunt squeezed like it tried to milk him dry, waves of intense pleasure washing over you as the climax wrung you out. You had never been fucked this good before, hadn't ever felt such a complete, obliterating release. It was almost humiliating how loud the wet squelching and slick of your arousal became, how audible the slurping sounds were as your pussy spasmed around his cock.
Your body shuddered violently, a continuous tremor that left you weak and breathless. You gasped, sucking in ragged lungfuls of air, your vision swimming with the intensity of it all. His hand gripped your hip like a vice, holding you impossibly still against his driving momentum even as you bucked and convulsed. The other arm remained a rigid chokehold around your neck, tightening just enough to send a thrilling jolt of fear and surrender through you, reminding you who was in control at the moment.
Your fingers, now slick with sweat and desire, dug into the flesh of his forearm, your grip tightening to the point of pain as your body tried to anchor itself to something, anything, amidst the chaos of your climax. Your other hand balled into a desperate fist, clenching the soft blankets beneath you. Your cunt continued to throb and clench, sucking at his cock even after the initial waves subsided, clinging to every last drop of the exquisite sensation, a greedy, spent mess of pure feminine desire.
Just as the last tremors of your earth-shattering orgasm began to subside, before you could even fully process the magnificent wreckage he'd made of your senses, he started moving again. To your utter shock, he gave you barely a moment to draw a ragged breath, barely a heartbeat to register the spent, trembling state of your body, before he drove back into you with renewed, aggressive force.
A low, guttural grunt rumbled in his chest, a sound of pure, predatory satisfaction, as his hips slammed against your ass once more. His thick cock, still fully engorged and pulsing, plunged into your already slick and swollen pussy, finding it incredibly warm around him in the wake of your climax. The friction was instant, intense, and shockingly pleasurable. He picked up the pace, faster even than before, each thrust deeper and more relentless.
"Thought you were done, did you?" he rasped, his voice a low growl of amusement as he fucked into you. “Not quite, pretty girl."
Your head was still reeling, your body a quivering mess, and the sudden, unyielding invasion made your vision swim again. "W-wait… still sensitive..." you babbled, the words a desperate, incoherent whisper, barely audible over the wet smack-smack of his relentless fucking. You were too overwhelmed to form a proper sentence, your mind still awash in the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm, now compounded by the brutal pleasure of his immediate return.
He chuckled, a dark, husky sound that vibrated through your skull from where his arm was still locked around your neck. He fucked your babbling self stupid, driving his cock deeper with each thrust, eliciting involuntary whimpers and gasps from your throat. Your pussy, still hypersensitive from your recent climax, clenched and stretched around his relentless shaft, protesting and craving his invasion all at once.
"That's it," he grunted, slamming into your deepest depths. "You can take it, pretty girl. Show me how much you love being fucked senseless." His hips piston-pumped, a blur of motion, driving his throbbing cock into you with an insatiable hunger, fucking away any coherent thought or any semblance of control you might have hoped to regain. Exactly where he wanted you.
You squeeze your eyes shut, your free hand reaching a bit out, instinctively. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched your shaky hand reach out slightly, your body trying to press into the mattress; it didn't do anything but help him when he leaned more of his weight onto you.
"Aht- where do you think you're going, hm?”
He asked, that tone playfully mocking, painfully aware. He knew what he was doing to you.
You can barely get it out past your whimpers and sobs, "Nowh- fuck- nowhere- oh!" He was moving so hard you could almost taste each pulse, widening out your slick walls. You can feel every detail of the veins, specifically the one rubbing right against the right spots, making you whine. He buries his cock into you again a bit slower, grinding against you now. He can practically sense the tears forming at your eyes from the pleasure.
It was an incredible sensation, one that only he could do for you; it's leaving you shaking and hardly in a state of recognition, your mind blanking out over and over again each time you think you're back into it.
"Leaking all over me, pretty girl... Yet you still think you're getting out of my grip?" He said, teasing you as he kept grinding into you, your gummy walls weak against it, he tightened his grip on the headlock slightly but quickly loosened; it was just to get your attention. Yet your hips are squirming at the pleasure as you instinctively try to run from the overstimulation.
"And you're still trying to run..." he breathes; you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and you're too fucked senselessly to say anything about it. "It's cute you think you can like this." You shudder at the way he whispered it into your ear from behind.
"I'm- n-not.”
“Uh-huh.” It's alright, pretty; you can handle it."
He said. You're absolutely dazed, but a sharp cry escapes you when he starts ramming into you again. You quiver when he lets go of the headlock, his now-free hand quickly trapping your hand onto the mattress now that it's not holding onto him, his fingers intertwining over yours. It wasn't that you were just overstimulated; it was the way he was hitting all your sweet spots.
Your pussy clenched around him with a frantic desperation, the slick, swollen walls of your cunt sucking at his throbbing cock as he plunged deeper. That raw, animalistic cry tore from your throat, "Knocker! Fu- ah!" Your body arching violently, back bowing off the mattress as if trying to impale yourself further on his magnificent length despite trying to escape it at the same time. He’d released the headlock, but his free hand had instantly found yours, fingers intertwining, trapping your trembling hand against the sheets. It wasn’t just a gentle hold; his grip was firm, possessive, anchoring you to the bed while his other hand clamped around your hip, digging in to control the bucking of your hips.
“Look at you taking it so well…” he murmured, the words a rough caress against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. You were beyond fucked out of your mind, a dizzying haze of pleasure and overstimulation blurring your vision. How many times had you come? Three? Five? Each one had left your pussy a gushing, sensitive mess, your inner walls so soft and pliable around him, practically begging for the next brutal thrust. Yet, with every deep, merciless plunge, a fresh wave of agony and ecstasy ripped through you, forcing another keening moan from your lips.
“P-Please, Knocker- fuck!” you whimpered, your hips trying to writhe away, even as your pussy kept milking him, a contradictory dance of surrender and flight. He chuckled, a deep, guttural rumble that vibrated through your spine, his hard cock throbbing and twitching inside your heat at your pleading. He knew exactly what he was doing, each thrust hitting a nerve, a sweet spot, making your clit throb in rhythm with his relentless fucking. Your inner thighs were slick with your own juices and the pre-cum already leaking from him, gluing them together as he slammed into you, again and again.
He leaned back slightly, pulling his cock almost free, just enough to let a gasp rip from you, your pussy stretching, aching for him to fill it again. Then, with a grunt of pleasure, he slammed back in, sinking his entire shaft into your depths. Your legs, weak and trembling, tried to wrap around his waist but couldn't quite manage, merely flopping against his hips as he dictated the rhythm. Your nipples were hard, aching points against his chest, your skin flushed and slick with sweat, the scent of sex thick and intoxicating around you.
“Hang on, pretty girl… I’m getting there,” he growled, the words almost lost in the violent shudders of your body. His pace quickened, each thrust harder, deeper, faster. You could feel his balls slapping against you, the impact sending shivers straight to your core. Your pussy was a burning, throbbing cavern around him, every nerve ending screaming. Your head thrashed against the mattress, your hair was an absolute mess, and a stream of incoherent pleas and cries was escaping you. You were a mess, a beautiful, broken, panting, cum-soaked mess, completely at his mercy.
He began to pump into you, with a relentless, primal rhythm that left no room for thought, only sensation. His fingers tightened on your trapped hand, almost painfully so, as if to remind you who was in control. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, the exquisite tension tightening around your mind, drawing you to the edge once more. Your body began to still before shaking, a frantic, uncontrollable tremor starting deep in your belly and spreading outwards.
“That’s it, pretty…cum for me, one more time,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust, his hips grinding into you with a final, earth-shattering series of thrusts. You screamed, a long, drawn-out cry that ended in a gurgle of pure, unadulterated pleasure as your body arched one last time, your pussy spasming wildly around his cock, milking him dry. Your orgasm ripped through you, a tidal wave of exquisite sensation, drenching the bed as fresh rivers of cum-laced juice poured from your engorged pussy. Your entire body went rigid, then limp, quivering between his figure and the mattress.
He groaned, a deep, powerful sound of release, as your cunt tightened around him in its depth. With a final, explosive shudder, he emptied himself deep inside you, the hot, thick ropes flooding your already saturated depths. He buried his face in your neck, his breath heavy, his body trembling against yours as he pulsed his last drops into you. His grip on your hand softened, but he remained buried inside you, his heavy cock still thick and throbbing, steaming gently in the aftermath of your shared climax. You lie there, panting, utterly boneless, your mind blank, the delicious weight of his cock still filling you completely.
The tears that were welling up in your eyes had dripped down your flushed cheeks. A shaky exhale escaping your throat again. The knocker grunts a bit as he pulls out of your messy cunt, the mess pooling below you. You mutter a curse as he does so, eyes rolling to the back of your head before they flutter shut. His own heavy breathing is loud in your ear as he moves himself over next to you. He can't help but feel some sort of pride in your fucked-up expression. He pulls you closer to him, petting your hair; the room smells of your coupling, and you'll definitely need to wash the sheets tomorrow.
He hopes that tomorrow you'll pay… some more attention to him with this memory in mind. He's still going to annoy you, no doubt. But he does like you obviously a lot. He moved you both to lie down properly; he caressed your face gently, almost unaware of that huge smile on his face. Almost.
“You okay, pretty girl? Done ignoring me now?” he asked, looking down at you.
You whimper, boneless and exhausted; your hands reach up to grasp at his arms. He hums in response, seemingly fine with your response despite not really having one. You melt into him, still catching your breath. You had honestly expected him to just vanish and let you pass out or something. But here he was supporting you instead… guess he's not as bad as he comes off…all the time.
You shudder, looking up at him through your lashes, and somehow his smile seems softer. He chuckles at you as you catch your breath. "Good God, Knocker." Is all you can muster out to which he audibly laughs at.
"Just relax, pretty girl, okay?”
"Are you leaving?" You whisper question as if afraid someone else would hear you both.
I think another cool scenario to think or write about would be semi-human Habit with a bunny semi-human reader, where we would have bunny ears n a tail?? Like omg he'd be 100% more annoying loll xd just with the fact that now he has more to grab and poke at
HABIT Wolf-Ish & Spider-Like Headcanons X Bunny Hybrid!Reader Headcanons
── .✦ 🦴 | A/N: I got a little carried away, I threw this together in a few hours because I got so inspired lol. It started incessantly rattling in my head shddjsksi. I wanna write a fic about this but I really need to finish up some older requests, I feel bad for taking so long on them. TwT
── .✦ 🦴 | Tags/Warnings: HABIT x Reader, Mentions of Threats, & NSFW headcanons.
[|✧ 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 ✧|]
── .✦ 🐇 | Think Habit is annoying now? Get ready for him to be 100 times worse and absolutely insufferable.
── .✦ 🐇 | He will dig you out from under blankets, pillows, and out of whatever nest you’ve built for yourself whenever he wants to talk to you. You will have zero alone time. He says bunnies are supposed to be social creatures anyway.
── .✦ 🐇 | Oddly obsessed with your pawed feet, if you bounce them up and down or have your feet in the air, he’ll grab them and squish at your paw pads. On the same note, he does things deliberately to make you mad, just to see you thump your feet against the ground in agitation.
── .✦ 🐇 | He boops your nose when you’re frustrated, outright laughs at you whenever your nose twitches in agitation, finds it even funnier when it pisses you off more.
── .✦ 🐇 | He knows you can’t stomach meat, but he won’t stop cooking it either. Every so often, he’ll try to feed it to you, even when you whine at him and scrunch your nose. He’ll eat rabbit meat around you with no shame at all.
── .✦ 🐇 | His hunting instincts were bad already, but they are definitely worse when you resemble something so edible to him. He threatens to eat you alive every other day, and you can never quite tell when he’s joking or not.
── .✦ 🐇 | He gets a certain type of cuteness aggression where he nips at you and squeezes the crap out of you and may or may not take a chunk out of you. It’s a weird mix of hunting instinct and his particular liking for you.
── .✦ 🐇 | He finds you even easier to read than most people, with your ears and animalistic behaviors, he finds himself being able to predict your actions and moods easily.
── .✦ 🐇 | Habit’s nest becomes your nest whenever he decides to trust you enough to give you free roam of his bedroom. He thinks it’s cute when you bunch up his blankets, pillows, and clothes, or when you try to make his mess of a curtained bed neater. He takes it surprisingly seriously if the nest stresses you out; he tidies it. If you like a messy nest, he brings back more random shit to add to it.
── .✦ 🐇 | If you’re a nervous bunny, it’s about 50/50 whether or not he helps it or makes it worse on any given basis. On one hand, he’ll chase you, grab you, use your paws and ears as a stress toy, and stress you tf out. On the other hand, he’ll make you feel mostly protected and safe from other people, just not from him.
── .✦ 🐇 | If you’re the type of nervous bunny to hide from him, he won’t take it well at all. He’ll drag you out from whatever hiding spot you’re in, even out of your nest if he has to. He might even treat it like a game to find you. He thinks you’re better off just hiding in his arms if you’re that nervous or scared.
── .✦ 🐇 | Takes advantage of being able to grab you and squeeze you tightly enough to get you to freeze out of instinct. It gives a little bit of peace of mind that he can catch you, and you’ll barely fight back.
── .✦ 🐇 | He listens to your heartbeat a lot, he knows your instincts are always screaming at you to run from him, and it reflects in the way your heart stutters when he holds you tight and how your pawed feet twitch like you're ready to bolt.
── .✦ 🐇 | The size difference is a bit jarring; you’re either about half his height or at least a foot or two shorter than him (for once in the life of his semi-human form). He doesn’t mind the size difference, but having to put step stools around and things to accommodate your size either annoys him or amuses him.
── .✦ 🐇 | If you have any small patches of fur on your body, he can’t help but pet them absentmindedly when he’s holding you. Or if you have fur on the back of your neck, for example, he’ll grab at it to get your attention instead of grabbing at your ears or tail.
── .✦ 🐇 | He goes hunting a lot more often now. If you ask him about it, he just gives you a vague response about being ‘pent up’. But it doesn’t escape your notice that he targets more and more bunny hybrids now.
── .✦ 🐇 | Doesn’t mind you chinning him or nudging and nuzzling him to spread your scent on him and his clothes. He doesn’t mind your scent and finds an odd amount of comfort in it.
── .✦ 🐇 | Will let you nibble at his fingers or arms, but get ready for him to nip at your ears and paws in return.
── .✦ 🐇 | He can’t keep his hands off your ears. If your ears are sensitive, he takes the time to rub them, nip at them, and squeeze them, just to see you needy and flushed red for him.
── .✦ 🐇 | He pokes fun at the way you nibble at your food or act peckish. But he’ll indulge your need for snack stashes in odd places; he makes sure you have an assortment of snacks in your nest. The fewer reasons you have to leave it, the better for him.
── .✦ 🐇 | He acts annoyed, but he’ll let you groom him if you absolutely want to. The extent of it would probably be letting you brush out his hair and file down his claws a bit, though, not much else.
── .✦ 🐇 | Threatens to put you in a bunny cage or a kennel in his bedroom if he’s annoyed. He hasn’t done it yet, but you wouldn’t put it past him to try it.
── .✦ 🐇 | If you ever flop over around him, he’ll pet your sides and belly. He sort of equates it to the same reason that a dog might roll over and treats it the same way, as a sign of submission and a desire for affection.
[|✧ 𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 ✧|]
── .✦ 🐇 | Grabs your bunny ears when you give him head and uses them as handlebars to thrust deeper down your throat. Alternatively, he’ll grab them in one hand and tug on them when he’s fucking you from behind to get you to arch your back for him.
── .✦ 🐇 | Thinks it’s funny when you start to circle him a bunch, do it too much, and he’ll pick you up and bend you over or pin you to the nearest surface available. Or he’ll simply pick you up and spin you around in his arms until you’re dizzy, then toss you and pin you against a couch or mattress.
── .✦ 🐇 | Bite him out of instinct and he’ll take it as invitation to bite back ten times as hard to even the playing field.
── .✦ 🐇 | Definitely takes advantage of your high libido. But that doesn’t stop him from slightly shaming you and teasing you for it. If you get needy, he’ll edge you until you’re a sobbing mess.
── .✦ 🐇 | Speaking of the size difference again, it’s downright pornographic, even if you aren’t the smallest bunny hybrid ever, the size difference is still significant. If the stretch was bad before, it’s downright painful now, and now he’s pretty much forced to go slower with you and give you time to adjust; he doesn’t want to break you or tear you up too badly before he can have his fun again.
── .✦ 🐇 | If he’s fucking you from behind, he might pinch at your tail or toy with it between his fingers. He likes to watch how your tail twitches or flicks rapidly in response to him pumping his cock in and out of you.
── .✦ 🐇 | He enjoys being with someone who can finally match his stamina. You can’t fully keep up, but you can keep up better than the average human. He can take you for a few more rounds and maybe even get a little worn out himself, or get to a point that he gets bored enough to quit and move on to something else.
── .✦ 🐇 | Any sort of squirming or wriggling from you turns him on, it sets off yet another hunting instinct in him, and makes him keen on pinning you down underneath him or caging you in with his spider pincers or claws.
Being a child eating entities mate is never easy, but he loves you(or just his way of showing love) the way he shows it was very strange in human standers but you will probably get used to it soon enough, pennywise was never one to be a romantic but still you see small gestures that are(considered) romantic(in his words at least) like; giving you polished bones as jewelry or keepsakes, the time he even made you a crown made of popcorn paper, and collecting the most randomist of things and putting it in the nest he made for you.
To him it doesn't matter who you are or what you are, because your his mate. No matter if your a mortal or some other entity entirely(it's up to you)
It was a little awkward when he first was trying to be a good mate, in his standards at least(but give him some slack he is trying his best :((( ) he does things any good mate would do; like giving you cooked meat instead of raw meat, but it's origins are questionable but it's certainly a human meat. He often goes out with you in his human form, he is oblivious to what the hell a 'date' was but he was learning.
Taking your hand in his, his back hunched trying to be in the same height as you sometimes even shifting his body to something more compact just so he could see you or at least feel you are there.
Be prepared to not have no space, your showering? He is talking to you in the drain system, your sleeping? Yeah, he has a spot reserved on YOUR side of the bed- no no not his side but specifically where you were. He shifts bodies like it's his personal hobby, he sometimes shifts into a cat to lay on your stomach. He does shapeshift into people or you since he likes watching you first look startled before realizing it was him, if he was to shapeshift into you he would DEFINITELY use it against you(teasingly) saying or doing things you would never do.
honestly speaking about having no personal space he WILL take some of your food that you were eating just to piss you off, because he finds it amusing watching you yell at the top of your lungs and try to chase him(maybe bite his big head because it looks like marshmallows.)
He does smell like a carnival mixed with the cold air that usually follows him, he smells like popcorn with butter and cotton candy that wilted after a long hot day in summer. Pennywise does take his claim on you; bitemarks, hickies, scent trail or just anything that could leave an imprint on you(even animals leave you alone or run away from you whenever you try to get near since you smell of danger, something that could literally wipe them from existence. So good luck trying to befriend stray cats)
Pennywise is the type of mate to be protective even if he tries to brush it off as a joke or him 'sensing' something off about someone or something(obviously he could handle any danger that came your way, he will push you into a puddle and jump with you but anyone else doing it? He will eat them it doesn't matter a random child bumping into you or an old man with poor eye sight(how I felt writing; 😈🔥😜💯 I'm so cringe but it's okay😔)
THIS THING PURS AND YOUR NOT CONVINCING ME OTHERWISE!
the way he purs is like a deep rumbling vibrating on your body and in his body, old and ancient that reminds you of a large stone door opening to the secrets supposed to be kept hidden.
NSFW
Pennywise is patient sure, but sometimes the smell of your leaking arousal is... Distracting. Does he take it out on you? Yes, will he tease you and leave you on the edge for a few days? Yes. He doesn't see it as cruel to watch you squirm and be all huffy, pouty face whenever he edges you. In bathrooms he tuants you, knowing whatever it is your thinking as he teases; "Ooh ho ho! Such a dirty girl aren't you?" He speaks in his sing-song voice with a somewhat high yet grounding pitch.
"Do you touch yourself like this? Feeling funny in your tummy wishing I knott your womb?"
Obviously he laughs and mocks, yet at the same time relishing on it. And whenever you do shy away or get embarrassed he will degrade you, not by calling you names but just pointing out the obvious like; "wet already? Ohh so naughty! You were thinking about it all day haven't you hmmm?" Still speaking in that sing song voice before his tongue goes into your tight little cunny, giggling and growling like a feral animal. You just feel so ready, for him and his litter but your body needs to prepare for it before he inacts(he doesn't want his poor mate to have a swollen tummy and ache all over :(( )
He doesn't just want you as a play thing, he wants you forever. He would whisper it into your ear when your all fucked up, whenever he is stuffing you and bruising your poor cervix with his pointed tip. curse his other worldly stamina whenever he ruts into you in positions you didn't even know you could do. "My lovely mate~ you feel me hmm? You want me like this forever deary?" Of course you could only dumbly nod, which amuses him to no end before knotting deep into you. "My poor mate... You feel too good to stop, but you will be mine forever." He would whisper but you only heard the first part because after that? You were spent, of course he loves to see you walk funny after every time he breeds you.
I know kinda short but I'm new!(Even if I have been simping on the big P since I saw him <3)
the deadlights acting as a aphrodisiac 👀 maybe reader is having trouble taking his size and he uses it on them to make them feel good and calm
Oooo this is so good!!!
Enjoy! ❤️😋
Deadlights
Your whole body quivered with excitement and anticipation. You straddled the lap of the monster haunting Derry—but you didn’t shake with fear, you trembled for him. Want and need consumed you. Pennywise trailed his tongue across your neck, finding your most sensitive spots and abusing them. You ground down on him. The noises coming from him were animalistic, growls and purrs—sounding like a lion savoring its kill.
His white-gloved hands gripped your hips, guiding your rolls against the hard bulge straining his silk pants, each grind sending sparks of friction through your core. Your pussy throbbed, already soaked and aching for more as you clutched at his ruffled collar, pulling him closer.
He nipped at your earlobe, teeth grazing just shy of breaking skin, his breath hot and ragged. 'My eager little treat,' he rumbled, voice a low vibration that made your clit pulse. You moaned, tilting your head to expose more of your throat, inviting his tongue to lap and suckle there. His fingers dug into your ass, kneading the flesh as he rocked up to meet your movements, the fabric barrier between you growing damp from your arousal.
With a swift motion, he flipped your positions, pinning you against the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, heels digging into his back. He devoured your mouth then, tongue thrusting deep in a mimicry of what was to come, tasting of dark sweets and forbidden hunger. You sucked on it greedily, hands roaming over his chest, feeling the unnatural muscles shift beneath the clown suit.
He broke the kiss to trail lower, lips and teeth marking your collarbone, then latching onto your nipple through your shirt. Fabric tore under his claws as he ripped it open, exposing your breasts to the cool air. His mouth closed over one peak, sucking hard while his gloved hand pinched the other, rolling it until you arched and whimpered. Lower still, his fingers hooked into your pants, yanking them down along with your underwear in one rough pull. Naked now from the waist down, you spread your thighs wider, pussy glistening and exposed.
Pennywise dropped to his knees, yellow eyes locked on your folds as he inhaled deeply. 'So ripe for me,' he growled, before diving in. His tongue—longer than any human's—lashed across your slit, lapping up your juices with broad strokes. You bucked against his face, fingers tangling in his wild orange hair as he speared inside you, fucking you with his tongue. The slurping sounds mixed with your cries, pleasure coiling tight as he devoured you like a feast.
But he wasn't done. Rising up, he pulled his cock free. It jutted out, long and thick, with ridges lining his length. It throbbed inhumanity, pulsing like it had its own heart, the head leaking slick precum. He stroked it once, base to tip, smearing the fluid, before pressing the blunt head to your entrance.
You both groaned as he nudged forward, the tip parting your lips and sinking in just enough to breach you. The stretch was immediate and brutal—your walls straining around his girth, a sharp burn radiating from your core. 'Oh god, it's too much,' you gasped, nails raking his shoulders, body tensing to push him away even as your hips twitched for more. Panic edged in, the fullness teetering on unbearable, your pussy clenching in protest.
He stilled, that painted grin faltering into something predatory. 'Easy now, pet. I’ll make you feel good.' His head tilted back, jaws creaking open wider than should be possible, unhinging to reveal the black void of his maw. Rows of jagged teeth gleamed like daggers, framing three glowing orbs that ignited in the depths—the deadlights, swirling in a mesmerizing way. They pulsed hypnotically, drawing your eyes like a moth to flame, the light bleeding into your vision until nothing else existed.
Your mind quieted instantly, thoughts scattering like leaves in wind. The pain ebbed away, replaced by a serene warmth that flooded your veins, soothing every nerve. Tension melted from your muscles, your pussy loosening and flooding with fresh slick under the spell's influence. Desire surged anew, hotter and deeper, an insatiable hunger that made you crave the invasion. The lights throbbed in rhythm with your heartbeat, each swirl sending jolts of ecstasy straight to your core, turning resistance into eager surrender.
'That's it,' Pennywise murmured, the orbs flaring brighter as he pushed forward. The head popped fully inside, your walls yielding without fight, hugging him tight in velvet heat. Inch by inch he advanced, ridges catching on your sensitive spots, igniting fireworks of pleasure that made you moan and clench voluntarily. No burn now—just divine fullness, your body adapting, stretching around him like it was made for this.
He bottomed out with a guttural snarl, balls pressed flush to your ass, cock buried to the hilt in your quivering pussy. The deadlights' glow lingered in your periphery, amplifying every sensation as he began to move. Slow at first, dragging out to the tip before slamming back in, the wet slap of skin echoing in the tunnel. You wrapped your legs tighter, heels urging him deeper, lost in the hypnotic bliss.
Faster he went, hips snapping with brutal force, cock pistoning into you relentlessly. Your tits bounced with each thrust, clit grinding against his base, building that electric pressure. The lights pulsed in time, heightening the friction until you shattered—orgasm crashing over you in violent waves, pussy spasming and squirting around his shaft, soaking his thighs. He fucked you through it, growling praises as your walls milked him.
His rhythm faltered, cock swelling impossibly thicker, and then he erupted—hot ropes of cum blasting deep inside, filling you to overflowing, the excess dripping down you. The warmth triggered another climax, your body convulsing in his grip as the deadlights dimmed, jaws snapping shut.
He stayed sheathed inside you, panting, as the haze settled into a sated glow.
hugging pennywise probably feels so fucking good. getting to bury your face into the soft ruffles of his collar, to feel long arms and gloved hands wrap around you and pull you in closer closer closer, chest to chest without an inch of space between you as if you were one body, all while he’s drooling over your shoulder at how good you smell and pretending all is normal so you don't pull away. he’d have to hunch over for you to reach, either that or he’s locking his arms around your middle and hoisting you up into the air. sigh. big clown murder papa
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