summary: After having wet dreams of a peculiar alien entity in the form of a clown, you wander into the sewers and Pennywise fucks the daylights out of you. That's literally it. There's no plot here, none to be found.
word count: 1.9 K
w a r n i n g s: shameless, plotless SMUT, female reader, mentions of dead children, it pronouns for Pennywise/It, clussy mention baybeeee, no use of y/n, monster fucking, teratophilia, p in v (although it's a prehensile tentacle cock sooooo), tentacle fucking, come eating, brief mentions of wet dreams.
a/n: uhhhhh listen, this is my first pennywise fic despite being a registered clown fucker since 2017 (technically longer, but shhh). i'm not even going to explain myself here. you're either here for it and get it, or you don't. there's no mention of time periods so this can take place whenever you'd like. also ignore my abrupt ending i'm sick and can't be bothered. banners by @/veejiez @/dollywons and @/adornedwithlight!!
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Wind rustles through the leaves. A bird titters somewhere behind you.
The heady, buttery smell of popcorn drifts towards you.
Strange.
Very strange considering it's coming from the gaping, circular mouth of a sewer.
At first, it had started with dreams of floating. Dreams where every other thought dissipated and was replaced with the undulating, throbbing sensation of it. Then, those dreams turned… peculiar. A clown. Bells jingling. Distant, melodic calliope music that grew dissonant the longer you listened. Children singing a nursery rhyme that didn't make sense.
The really unsettling thing was that every time you woke up, you were soaked. You'd rub your legs together for relief, determined to restrain yourself from sliding your fingers between your cunt. But god, you wanted to.
So many Derry children had gone missing. Others made claims of a clown in a sewer. Surely, not your clown.
They were always playing near them — the sewers.
Probably the same sewers where you now stand, in a knee-length dress that flutters with the soft breeze. You take a deep breath of the familiar scent and take one step into the tunnel. Wet pebbles crunch beneath your feet as you step further inside. Amidst the popcorn, there's a distinct damp odor. It's colder without the sunlight.
Afraid of getting lost, you continue straight, avoiding any of the turns and glancing behind you every so often at the bright opening from whence you came.
The tunnel opens up into an expansive area. In the middle of it, a pile of… toys? Junk? Forgotten belongings that wash away into the sewers during the many rains — you pick out bicycle wheels and teddy bears with your eyes. It's impossibly tall, looming up above you.
This must be another dream.
And if it is…
Your footsteps echo as you curve around the mountain of discarded belongings. Something out of place.
A circus wagon with its side panel door open. From the prickling darkness, a tall, slender figure emerges. It smiles, revealing two buck teeth amidst other normal teeth. His eyes are bright blue, but seem to glow in the dim, blue lighting of the sewer. So, the children hadn't been lying. This wasn't some unfounded urban legend.
"Oh my god," you breathe. "It is you."
The thudding of boots thunders across the wooden floor of the caravan, echoing against the walls of the sewer as the clown takes a running leap, effortlessly landing a few inches from you. You lift your head, gazing into the abruptly warm, amber eyes that gaze back. Red lips part, revealing now sharp teeth, more teeth than any human should have. You blink, swallow. Tighten your fingers into a fist.
In any other situation, maybe you'd scream. Run away. But you don't. The clown sees this. After a few seconds, his mouth closes around the pointed, layered teeth. He shivers, and a jingling rings in your ears.
"Ouuh. Ooouh, you're not afraid… but…" The clown suddenly snuffles close to you, his red-tipped nose running along the length of your neck. "Something else."
Yes, you think. Something else.
You hinge slightly at the waist and gather the hem of your dress into your palm. You straighten, bringing the dress to your hip, and with your other hand, you reach into your cotton underwear and collect some of your warm, slick arousal on your fingertips.
You hold them out in front of you, like offering a feral dog some meat.
You can feel the clown bristle above you, elongating. Orange eyes flicker down to your fingers, to your legs. Back to your face. The expression on its face reads one thing — hungry. Big, long arms wrap around your torso, and you feel the jostling steps of the clown as it runs back towards the wagon, taking you with it. For a moment, it almost scares you, but as it always does in your feverish dreams, the arousal takes over when the creature in front of you presses your back against the wood panel of the wagon.
"What do you taste like…." Without warning, lithe, gloved fingers wrap around your wrist. Its crimson lips close around your fingers, the ones that are coated in your wetness. You can feel its mouth pulsing, tongue scrubbing at the pads to remove all traces. With a wet pop, it pulls your fingers from its mouth.
It smells you again. Every inch of you. Open-mouthed inhaling of the scents you give off while gloved hands trail behind its face. When it passes by your mouth, its hands on your neck, you catch its lips in a kiss.
The inside of the clown's mouth tastes unlike anything you've ever experienced. There's no remnants or hints of food, no personal notes, or anything normal. No, instead it's euphoric and dangerous and bright, like licking a battery. You dive back in for more, running your tongue along the other waiting muscle. A tongue that feels too long for its mouth. You moan into the cavern of the clown's throat, and a feral-sounding growl swallows yours.
Your groin presses up against Pennywise's. There's something there, but it's not what you're used to — not what you expected. Your hand drifts down between your bodies, almost apprehensively, to feel more. It takes a moment, digging underneath and between the silk confines of its costume, but eventually, you find it. What it is, you aren't sure. At first, it feels like you do, but larger, a longer slit that's wetter than you could ever get. The soft flesh is covered in a thick, viscous fluid that leaks from between the folds. Your finger trails along the slick edge curiously.
Then, without warning, something slimy and strong slithers from deep within, slithers out to meet your fingers. The tip of it curls around your finger like a serpent, writhing its way up the soft inner flesh of your palm, then your wrist. It's warm and has a strength that could pull your entire hand inside of it, if it wanted. You yank your hand away from between its legs, swallowing hard as you hear a retreating squelch. You don't dare look down.
"What… what are you?"
The once playful voice drops an octave, no longer high-pitched and melodic. The answer is serious and simple: "Everything."
The dull ache of fear presses a single sharp fingernail into your arousal. "No, what does that mean? What did I just touch?"
"Me," it insists plainly. "You want something else?" The question is eager, riddled with capability. You know what it means — a question of forms, of what it can do. It can take any form to frighten you, naturally. In this moment, however, it can take any form to fuck you, to please you.
You watch its eyes, glowing bright amber in the dim lighting, as they watch you. Finally, it speaks again. "You want to say yes… but you don't smell like you want something else... small human is hungry... curious…"
Your cunt aches. Beats hard. Whatever it is, it can smell your arousal as it leaks from you.
"I don't want to run… but even if I did, I can't run fast enough to get away from you."
The clown shakes its head quickly, excitedly.
"You want to play pretend?" you ask.
Another head shake. "Nnnooo… wasting time."
"Fine, then." You lower yourself to your knees, the grain of the old wood digging into the flesh. While maintaining eye contact with the creature, you lean back and drop your legs apart to reveal a pair of soaked underwear, your dress gathering at your waist. Its nostrils flare. The hungry gaze returns, and you notice a specific change in its stature. Pennywise mimics your previous position, on its knees, and shuffles close to you. Not close enough that your hips touch, however.
For a fleeting moment, you're confused.
Pennywise straightens up, almost proudly. From the slit, a glistening tendril slithers out with a wet sound, and you can't help but stare, watching intently as it grows, thickens. The tip of the deep red appendage snakes forward until it bumps into the cotton of your panties and glides upwards like a tongue, leaving a slick trail on the fabric. Then, suddenly, long fingers reach towards the fabric and rip it apart, tearing the shreds away from your legs before you have any time to protest. Not that you would, anyway.
As Pennywise towers over you, crawling its way up your body, the tentacle moves of its own free will, writhing and slithering between your legs. The slick sensation pulls a whimpering, pitiable moan from your lips, your eyes fluttering helplessly at the feeling. You throw your head back and flatten against the floor.
"Please," you beg.
"Pleaasse?" It echoes.
You nod, determined.
When it slips inside, driving its wriggly tendril forward, your jaw drops in a silent scream, pupils dilating. The feeling is all-consuming — it continues to penetrate your insides, writhing and stretching instinctively towards your deepest spots. Longer and thicker than any man you'd been with, it fills you in a way that leaves you breathless and sweating — scooting back to get away from it as the pressure intensifies.
Pennywise's arms are fast on your hips; however, it pulls you back sharply to its groin. The arms feel too long, too strong for its body, and sharp, black talons that have ripped forward from the tips of the white gloves dig into the soft flesh. It finds purchase, and tightens its grip. "Nooooo," It coos, almost mockingly. "You stay right here. You're not going anywheeeere!"
You mewl and clench your inner muscles hard. The creature above you snarls, and you feel the tendril twitch within you. It finds a rhythm with its thrusts. They're hard and meaningful, jolting your body backwards with each one. Internally, you can feel the tentacle as it moves, searches for your innermost spots, or curls back against the spongy flesh that makes you see stars.
Its thrusts are shallow, pulling you back and forth on the girthiest part of the tentacle while the rest of it curls and twitches inside you. You lift your head weakly, watching as it writhes. Above you, the clown is breathing heavily, snarling, and exhaling long breaths. Heavy-lidded, your eyes dart from between the two visuals repeatedly, fueling your release. It comes like a wave, crashing over you. Your toes curl, fingers tighten into fists. A single drop of sweat descends from your hairline, trailing down your neck.
"Fuck, oh my god…!" you cry.
With a sudden buck of its hips, the inhuman cock buries all the way inside you, pelvis pressed tightly against yours. You feel an alien, indescribable pulsing inside you, throbbing hard against your walls as it, too, orgasms. You feel full. And yet, the throbbing continues. The filling continues until it begins to leak out the sides with deep, wet squelches. Its release lasts longer than you think possible, and your body eventually goes limp in his grip, rocking helplessly back and forth with its erratic, slowing motions.
When the creature finally pulls itself away from you, drawing the tentacle back up into its body, a staggering amount of sticky, post-coital liquid seeps from between your legs — you can feel it dripping from your used cunt, which still throbs. It pools beneath you, slimy and warm.
"I can't believe you…"
You lift your head before continuing.
The clown is gone. Sucked back into the darkness from whence it came.
With a quivering breath, you find the torn scraps of your underwear and attempt to clean yourself up. The fabric absorbs little of the mess. You get to your knees first, then gingerly push yourself up onto your feet. Your legs are shaky and feel like they're made of rubber.
"Fawner" | It Welcome To Derry | Pennywise X Female! Reader
Warnings: gore, biting, creampie, missionary, tendril cock, dub con, kinda depressing, fear play, this dove may be dead, scary imagery, pennywise is his own warning, no you can't fix him. Word count: 8,477
A/N: Takes place during Welcome to derry season 1 in 1962, y/n is not used and I use he/it pronouns for pennywise interchangeably.
Click, Click, Click
Every time your stapler pierced the wood beneath the paper you felt worse and worse. This couldn't be real could it? Your eyes, red and tired, glazed over the missing persons poster, searing the black and white printed image into your mind eternally. You remember the day that this photo was taken. It was Linda's high-school yearbook photo. The night before this day you spent the night at her house so you could help her with her hair and makeup. The shine and gleaming in her eyes with a beautiful smile was immortalized on the tree in front of you.
Among that tree were two more papers just like it. Albeit younger missing persons, one six and one sixteen years old, the police hadn't found a body for either of them. You understood that children were a priority but it's almost like the police didn't care about your best friend's case. She was an adult woman who planned to become a nurse and had a cheating ex-boyfriend. So they believe she made a decision and just left Derry, and left you. It wasn't like adults didn't go missing sometimes in this town. You've been to the library, you've done your research and sure kids accounted for 80% of the cases but those adults involved mattered too.
Quite frankly you needed a break, the air was thick around you and made it feel like you were suffocating. If you didn't stop right now and rest you were going to fall even deeper into a pit of despair and there was a chance you may not be strong enough to climb out. These sleepless nights recently haven't been doing you any good either. Two weeks to the day Linda went missing and your life, mind and body have been upside down since. You grabbed the rest of your posters and stapler and walked off to recollect the very little of you that was left. As you crossed streets and treaded sidewalks, you received stares
There were stares from familiar faces and strangers alike. Some of them blamed it on you, believing that poor girl ran away because of you. You told the detective at the police station that there was an argument that night, a very minor argument. It wasn't anything that the Linda you knew would dare run away for. Among the group of stares there were looks of pity, they could see with their own eyes how disheveled you looked. Overnighters and reading several hundred paged books you checked out from the library were bound to reflect on you physically.
The home you now own, once belonging to your parents who up and left Derry to travel no longer felt the same. It felt and looked less like a home and more like a reminder that the last person to see her that night was probably you. As you walked up your steps you paused for a moment to look behind you and sighed, the wind was blowing trash over from the Neibolt lawn into yours. With the house being abandoned there were people who couldn't care less about littering near it and it always wound up on your property.
Inside your home you dropped Linda's posters on the couch along with the stapler as you didn't want any of that in your bedroom, that was your safe place. Nothing traumatic like that needed to be in the vicinity of it out of fear it may corrupt its pureness. Once inside your bedroom you closed the door and locked it behind you, your calendar to the left of your room above your desk gave you a grim reminder. You had two more days of vacation for your nursing job before you'd be forced to give up the free time you've been spending trying to figure out what happened to Linda.
No you didn't expect to solve this entire thing but you haven't even found a single clue anywhere. Even after the murders that happened at the movie theater, they never found bodies yet the police told the local news agency already that they had a suspect. When Linda found out before she disappeared she was devastated as she loved that movie theater and the memories you two shared watching films there together. Hank Grogan was one of the friendliest men you two had ever known and even though neither of you believed the allegations there was nothing anyone could truly do. Derry had its own way of running compared to any other place you've lived in..
You reached into your pocket for a piece of paper that had a phone number written on it. The local librarian who checked out your books this morning gave it to you to reach her in case you need more information about Derry. As if your mental health was a mere distant after-thought, here you were again, diving deep into this black void that you couldn't seem to part with. You took less than a five minute break and that was as far as you could push yourself before you became restless for answers again. With the librarian this morning, you had expressed your anguish and guilt about Linda's disappearance and it felt like she really understood and heard you. These days it doesn't feel like anyone in Derry ever hears you, hears your concern about what's going on.
You weren't going to force a stranger into your drama but the librarian generously offered her help and she seemed really nice. Making your decision, you entered the digits on the landline and the phone was picked up on the first ring. You quickly introduced yourself in case she forgot who she gave her office number to. “Oh I remember you! You were the girl this morning that came in looking for Derry history books.” You physically nodded your head and replied ‘yes’ over the phone, feeling the acknowledgement that she hadn't forgotten you. “Do you think that you'd have any other Derry history books or articles or anything really that I haven't seen in the library?”
You couldn't even hide the desperation in your voice that was oozing with your obsession in finally finding an answer about this, not even just for Linda but for everyone that's missing. “All of the tunnels are underground.” Your eyes immediately darted over to your father's old radio on his desk. You put the phone between your ear and shoulder to hold it up, while your fingers fumbled with the radio looking for an off switch. “They wandered away to join the show.” The song playing was blaringly loud. It was a sad drawn out melodic tune, with the sound of a young child's voice as the vocals.
You didn't recognize the song nor had you heard it before. “Down with the clown.” The off switch on the radio was stuck in the on position so you yanked the wire out of the outlet without a second thought. “Listen, I am so sorry. I'm calling from my dad's old office and he left his radio plugged in and I-”
“- Don't worry about it and actually I may just have what you're looking for, they're in my office here at the library, you're more than welcome to come in later tonight after closing time and I'll have everything ready for you to pick up. If that's okay with you?” A heavy exhale left your mouth relieved that she cut you off during your awkward and breathless apology. This small win lifted a miniscule amount of weight off your shoulders, you may actually be getting the answers you need tonight. Not just answers for Linda, but answers for everyone who's gone missing. There are people just like her who don't have a family to look for them so you're doing this for all of them.
“Is tonight after closing time fine for you?” You mouthed a curse when you realized you hadn't answered after the first time she asked that. “Yes! Sorry about that, I-” Your meek apology was cut short again by her laughing this time. “Oh I bet you're a real fawner aren't you? No need to be always so sorry. I'll see you then.” After saying goodbye she said your name before she hung up the phone which deeply confused you at first because you didn't remember giving her your name. Something about it just felt weird to hear that but once you realized that to check out a book you had to use your library card with your name written on it and you began to feel quite silly. Then the realization hit you that you didn't get the librarian's name either.
You've been so on guard of other people since your Linda's disappearance. If something awful happened to her, anyone could be a suspect. When you began putting the books you checked out this morning into your bag you realized that something was off. It was just not as heavy as it was this morning? You looked inside and noticed Linda's blue knitted sweater was missing from the bag, you had been wearing it this morning and had taken it off in the library and stuffed it in your bag and now it's no longer there.
After a few minutes of frantically searching around the house the sweater was nowhere to be found. You made the split decision to grab your bag again and head out the door. That sweater was so not staying in the lost and found bin until tonight. You wanted it back right now and if your walking speed didn't say it the tears flowing from the corners of your eyes did. As you turned a sharp corner a man walked past you with the most impossibly wide smile on his face, he leaned in towards you while walking in the opposite direction and you screamed then backed up against the wall.
Everyone in the vicinity was looking at you with concern and when you looked back at the man, he was already continuing his route walking like nothing happened.
You had to admit that the lack of sleep, the grief, sadness and guilt were getting to you. Never in your life had you seen anything like that before. You turned the corner and jogged the next block before heading into the library. Before walking to the front desk you wiped your face of any dry tears and fixed your hair in the restroom. It would be best if you didn't look like a loon while asking about a missing sweater.
The walk to the book checkout desk was short but you frowned when you didn't see the woman that helped you with your books this morning. “Hi uh good morning, wait I mean good afternoon, I'm sorry, have you seen the librarian that was working here this morning? I left a sweater here and she may have seen it.” The elderly man behind the desk raised an eyebrow and looked at the janitor to the left of you mopping the floor and shrugged. He swept his long gray hair over his shoulder and took his reading glasses off.
“I am the only librarian that was working here this morning, are you sure it wasn't another day of this week?” The room suddenly felt really small and like it only began to get smaller from there. One of your eyes began to twitch and you rubbed it with your hand. “No, no no, this morning, there was a woman, she had like long black hair, red lipstick, and was wearing glasses and she uh-”
“You're sweating. Are you alright?” Your hand came into contact with your forehead and you instinctively wiped. Your vision became somewhat blurry when some of it got into your eyes while you began to feel nauseous. This could have been some kind of sleep deprivation induced vertigo that made you feel this way.
“Are you sure there was no one else here this morning?” Your voice was quieter this time barely above a whisper because that's all you could get out. You were preoccupied with feeling like you were swaying… just a sick sense of nausea that reminded you of the time you got seasick while fishing with your father. Both the janitor and the elderly librarian nodded in response to your question leaving you feeling defeated.
From looking down at both their name tags you could see they were both golden plates and had their names displayed visibly on it. The woman this morning had on an old fashioned red name tag with a name you didn't bother to look at, you were just happy someone was being nice to you. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the paper the woman had written the number to her office on. You handed it to the janitor and looked at him for some kind of confirmation that he'd have the explanation for this and know you weren't some kind of walking looney bin.
“This would be the phone number to the back office but the woman you saw certainly didn't work in there today. That office is out of service and has been for years.” Tears began to fall from your eyes again and your lower lip quivered, this had to be a joke, a sick joke they were playing on someone who was grieving. “I swear I'm not lying, here take a look.” The janitor pulled a key from his key ring and opened up a side door to what looked like a dark room filled with cobwebs. He reached inside and cut the light on and the office looked just as abandoned as he said it was. There were boxes strewn about the room and on the desk in there you could visibly see a red rotary phone covered in dust. You wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your shirt and began to reconsider everything that had happened today. What exactly was real and what wasn't?
“This office got closed down due to sewage leakage from a bust drain pipe that the town was supposed to pay to fix. It smells awful in here, definitely not safe for anyone to go poking around in there.” The janitor pinched his nose before backing away from the door. That room did stink and it was a particular smell, almost like the same kind of smell you'd get a hint of if you got too close to the Neibolt house.
Were you dreaming? Did you go home and take a nap after putting up missing person's posters and this is just a nightmare you were having. “Has anyone brought something into the lost and found today?" The voice that came out of you was winded and broken.
You didn't wait for either of them to answer as you walked over to the front desk, picked up the handset of the telephone and punched in the number given to you by the librarian. The ominous red rotary phone on the desk began to ring loudly and went unanswered by the three of you. The janitor reached into the room and cut the light off then closed the door, leaving your legs suddenly too weak to stand on. Both men guided you to the lost and found bin that you were able to see was entirely empty.
“Do you want us to call an ambulance?” You didn't answer as you managed to find your strength to leave and make it back to your home. The walk home was cold and solemn, the fallen leaves strewn about the ground crunched under your boots. It was already dark out and the people who were outside earlier were safe within their own homes, leaving the streets desolate and quiet. The street lights provided the occasional spotlight to see the sidewalk ahead but that didn't make you feel any better.
By the time you made it to your front porch was a gentle feeling of ease that was interrupted by the feeling of being watched. Once inside you had the thought that if you really wanted to you could board up all the entrances and exits for weeks and stay inside as long as you wanted to escape the horrors of the world as you know it.
You closed the door and put both locks on it and looked around your living room. Your home had never felt so quiet before, so still. The walk to your bedroom was slow and harrowing, the analog clock on your wall had ticks that sounded louder than normal and drew your attention.
Then you focused on the time, an hour left? Where had all the time gone? There were easily three hours of the day missing from your memory. Maybe you did collapse and slumber the last time you were home and just didn't realize. If that were the case then you shouldn't really be shocked by all of that, your brain has been a fuzzy mess all day. Seeing things, hearing things, and losing time. The logical side of you wanted to point the finger at sleep derivation but this felt like something deeper within you spiritually.
If it was all in your head would going back to the library to get the history books even be worth it? What if this librarian that was there and not at the same time had taken Linda's sweater out of your bag when you weren't looking? You felt violated in a sense of trust by someone you couldn't even prove was in the same vicinity as you. You had confessed your worries to her and she listened to you. Her face had shown you expressions of concern and empathy. You could still remember how she'd adjust her glasses when talking and flip her long black hair over her shoulders to get a better view of the books you were checking out. Just to find out that she was never there and there's a chance it could be your brain's way of sadistically punishing you for the lack of sleep.
Hallucinations like that even from the most sleep deprived people don't just pop out of thin air and if you're dreaming you would have woken up by now with the amount of times you've pinched yourself on your way home. All you could do was sit in your bedroom and wait, you didn't bother fixing yourself dinner as you were still nauseous and no longer had an appetite. If you tried to eat you wouldn't be able to keep anything down in a state like this. Trying to pretend like everything was normal was the last thing you wanted to do right now, how could you be normal when you needed answers. Your eyes watched the hands on the clock move until the hour hand pointed to nine and the minute hand pointed to twelve.
That was your cue to get off of the floor, and grab one of your father's jackets from the office as well as the bag with supplies he'd take with him camping to prepare to leave the safety of your house. Before you could turn your front door knob you paused. There was a bright red balloon sitting in front of your door that was visible through the glass panes in the middle. Before you could process what was going on the balloon moved, floated, across the street to the Neibolt house and stopped at its open front door before popping. As depressing as the thought was maybe Linda was dead and she was guiding you to find her. That could have been a plausible explanation but why would she be terrorizing you simultaneously. Nothing about this made sense.
You gripped the door knob and stepped out and closed the door behind you. With the void space and black abyss of the Neibolt doorway right in front of you several feet away, this felt like an awful mistake that you'd pay for in another life. If Linda were here right now she'd give you a good earful about how dumb what you're about to do is, walking yourself to a potential early death. You stepped through the pitch black doorway and almost as if fate, when you reached into the pocket of your Father's jacket you managed to pull out a metal flash light. After walking a few feet inward the front door slammed shut behind you and no matter how hard you pulled on it you couldn't open it.
The windows of the house were boarded up as far as you could see with your flashlight. When you peered toward the stairwell, a red balloon floated down in a straight line before turning into a doorway to the right down a long hall. Regrettably you followed it, carefully, watching it lead you down a flight of stairs and to an old well. The well had a rope thrown down it and attached to a mechanism that would have been used to lower a pail into it. A well inside a house just wasn't plausible to you and was completely unnatural. By far it wouldn't be the strangest thing you witnessed today but it did contribute to your growing migraine.
You had a fear of heights but there was no way out of the house, the door wouldn't budge and the windows weren't usable, so this had to do. You grabbed the rope and tried your hardest not to look as you used your legs against the rocks of the well to lower yourself deeper into the abyss. Once you got down far enough you looked to your left and could have sworn you saw two yellow glowing orbs in the middle of a tunnel. Upon taking a closer look there was nothing there, but the feeling of being watched lingered.
Once you managed to throw yourself onto the ledge the balloon had dropped to, you realized you left your fathers hiking bag at the top of the well. Yet that wasn't the worst of your troubles.There were jagged cuts and scrapes on the outer sides of your legs and your hands were red and bleeding with rope burn. The adrenaline and fear of falling prevented you from feeling the pain of your descent. Had you expected that this was where you'd find yourself you would have changed out of your skirt
The balloon didn't wait for you to compose yourself before leading you into a circular entrance and the stench that hit you was unmistakable. This was the scent you smelled at the library and now the scent you smelled here. You were in the sewer systems of Derry. It seemed like the further you got down the tunnel, the faster the balloon would float to the point that you were sprinting after it. It led you to a large room with a mountain of garbage in the center of it. The closer you looked the more you realized that this wasn't garbage, it was kid's toys, kid's shoes, adult shoes, jackets, furniture, and jewelry all piled in the center of a room. The water level there was up to the ankles of your boots but you found a higher ground to stand on to keep yourself from splashing.
In the middle of it all looked like a circus booth that was aged and rotting away. There was a clown on the door of the booth and the longer you looked at it the worse the feeling of your heart sinking became. Your eyes searched for the top of the pile and you gagged when you shined your flashlight upward. There were bodies… Whole and in pieces just floating around the pile in a circle. The breakfast you ate this morning felt like it was going to come back up while your eyes lingered.
You weren't going to climb the pile but something several feet above you caught your attention, it looked like Linda's blue knitted sweater, caught on something and dangling from the pile. Maybe you were going to climb it, as soon as you lifted up your foot to find stability on the mountain of trinkets you felt a hand on your shoulder pull you away from the pile and throw you back up against it back first.
It was Linda, there were maggots digging holes through her face and she was covered in dirt and grime, her skin was gray and peeling away from the bone. Her flesh was saggy and wrinkled like someone had left her in the water too long. When she smiled some of her teeth were cracked and broken but her two front teeth unnaturally long within her mouth catching your attention. Your mouth opened wide for a scream and when nothing had come out, tears began to fall. Was this hell?
Her soggy hands clutched both the sides of your face and and your eyes widened in fear “Oh I haven't seen you in two weeks, how about a kiss best friend?” She lifted you up off the ground and you clawed at her face to the point the maggots and flesh were getting peeled off by your fingernails. When she brought your face closer to hers and opened her mouth several rows of sharp teeth extended from the widened orifice. You kicked, yelled, and fought for your life, even putting your nail into one of her white glazed over eyes didn't stop her from slowly lowering your face into hers from the height she held you at.
Once your face got closer and closer to hers her teeth started to rapidly open and shut together as if she was excitedly expecting a bite. Suddenly you felt warm, it was an unnatural and odd feeling for you. That same warmth seemed to be radiating upward. Your nose was so close to her extended maw when she stopped moving you.
Your neck ached as she held you above her by your face alone and let the rest of your body dangle. She just stopped, mouth remained unmoving and her noninjured white eye staring blankly up into yours. There was silence while you dangled and you noticed her nose was up turned as if she was sniffing the air. With your face less than an inch from hers her hands let go and she dropped you. You landed on your left side and the drop was so painful your body went into the fetal position from the feeling.
You looked up at her standing, staring at you silently and then back around the room. “That's such a-” Linda looked up and sniffed the air more before looking back down at you. “- unique smell.” Claws extended from the tips of her fingers and she leaned over and crept toward you slowly with that wide smile again. Her clawed hand reached and grabbed you and held you in position as she leaned downward and sniffed from your chest upwards to your face, rubbing her own face crawling with insects and rotting against you.
With a cracking noise and various unnatural movements Linda's features changed, she grew bigger, her short blonde hair became coppery with big upturned curls. Her nose became red and clown paint covered her face until it became a more masculine one. The thing above you towered over you far more than the rotting corpse of your best friend did. “I won't tell anyone that I was here, please I swear just let me go, I promise.” Glowing yellow eyes glared into yours and it felt like a suffocating feeling of coldness washing over your body.
“Please I swear just let me go, oh don't hurt me Pennywise, I'm so young, I have a long miserable life to live.” It mocked you egregiously and exaggerated your whining in such a dramatic tone. That performance was followed up by a deep guttural laugh that made your stomach turn. A black claw drew a line from the side of your neck to your collar bone, it stopped at the neckline of your shirt and paused for a moment as if thinking. The bells on the clown's costume rang as it jiggled its head for a moment excitedly as if it had an idea. “Maybe I'll be generous, you are grieving aren't you?” The glare of those glowing eyes felt like an intense burning heat on your own eyes as if they were searching and probing inside your head to confirm his statement.
The clown's face narrowed and their smile dropped and you realized the game that was being played, you also got the feeling that if you didn't play along you'd wind up just like the floating circle of corpses above you. “I am grieving miserably because my friend disappeared.” You weren't going to stroke this thing's ego any more than that and grabbed your aching side as you watched the smile reappear on its face. This was a game to it, whatever it was, whatever he was, and now it was forcing you to play too.
The clown's bold and demanding yellow eyes looked right and left then returned to you “Little do you know, there is an exit to this place. Just run and hide, put up a great chase! Maybe I might just let you leave?” The clown crossed two of his fingers behind his back unbeknownst to you while you focused on the word ‘might’.
“Might.” You exhaled and didn't mean for your tone to harbor a hint of annoyance and when those sharp black claws returned within view of your face again you flinched. That flinch meant nothing as the tip of one of his claws nicked the bottom of your chin. “Beggars can't be choosers! I mean you are such a fawner so I know you'll indulge me.”
That sing-songy voice compiled with the hint of malice underneath when calling you that name made you feel nauseous. Not to mention he just called you the same thing that the librarian did. Everything that's happened wasn't just your brain cruelly judging you, it was whatever this monster is that's toying with you.
“I told you the way to leave and you're still standing here looking pathetic, do you want the Pennywise dancing clown performance? The circus, the lights, the smells? Oh no you're much too old for that, that's for children. I know how to motivate you.” Its face contorted as its body slimmed until limbs remade themselves longer. The clown paint became messier and his hair turned into a mess of balding black hair. There were a pair of broken glasses on his face and razor sharp teeth protruded from jagged angles of its mouth.
He was turning into a monstrous version of the librarian he pretended to be this morning mixed with this potential facade of a clown. You didn't need to see the full transformation to make the decision to turn around and bolt. That familiar heat in your lower stomach returned while you ran from corridor to corridor in the sewer system. That feeling made you uncomfortable and very confused.
Thankfully you never let go of your flashlight but the layout of the sewer system made every corridor looked practically the same as the last. Meanwhile that thing was probably just sitting back watching you. Watching how you lose your mind running from tunnel to tunnel dragging yourself through ankle deep still water while looking for an exit. Maybe there was no exit that was just another lie too, like you were set up to fail. Set up to run around like prey while the predator watched in glee. It could probably be anything in these corridors even invisible to your eyes and nothing scares you more than ending up like Linda. The last thing you wanted was to be murdered by that thing and left to rot or eaten.
The circle of floating bodies above the mountain was too far and too dark for you to point Linda out directly with your flashlight, but you know she had to be amongst them. Your legs burned, not just from the cuts and bruises but from the running. In an area free of gray water there was a crawl space big enough for you to fit through and hide momentarily. Your heart felt like it was practically beating out of your chest and while in that crawl space you were given the chance to get it under control.
It-He-She whatever it is was drawing out what could be the final moments of your life like a sick game. You acknowledged that the longer you sat here, the quicker that monster had a chance to find you so you had to move. You made your way out of the crawl space to the other side of the corridor and while stepping out to grab your flashlight you got caught in a thin sticky material dangling from the ceiling. It stuck to your jacket, clothes, and face and you screamed. It felt like spiderwebs but you couldn't reach your flashlight to check.
To get free, you had to tear at it until you wound up face down on the cement floor and began searching for your flashlight. When you finally found it you grabbed it and held it up to your face and in front of you was the lengthened and distorted face of this twisted imitation of the false librarian. Once its maw opened you then forced yourself up to run in the opposite direction.
You found your way back to the room with the mountain of items and dropped down on the floor, there was no exit. You were being toyed with and shouldn't have been so naive to fall for it from the beginning. The temperature of the room seemed to get warmer with your amount of running. The sky was also becoming lighter from what you could see from above the pile as the room was lit up without you having to use the flashlight anymore. It kept you here the entire night, hiding the exit from you, forcing you to run in circles, playing this sick game with you that appeared to be over.
“Fun night?” You looked in the direction of the voice and saw the clown leaning against the wall by his clothed elbow, mocking you for being tired and out of breath. The puffy white, gray, and red clown suit looked unchanged as if this monster had been in this form undisturbed the entire night. “Now you might just be the one I've kept down here the longest."
Your body had given up and you dropped down then sat there while the clown stalked its way over to you, its arms swinging inward as it leaned over and approached you slowly with a twisted smile on its face. You were clearly dealing with something that couldn't get tired, couldn't be injured and would lie to you for its own entertainment. Your stomach clenched and formed knots hiding something deeper and you closed your eyes tightly. When the clown made it to you and you felt its presence around you, you flinched instinctively when its tongue ran up the side of your face.
To you that action felt odd, he did it again to the other side of your face and you swore you could feel the grazing of teeth against your cheek. A deep chuckle erupted from your left and the closeness of such a feeling of cold intimacy made you feel heat once again. You refused to open your eyes but could feel him sniffing into your neck. Teeth grazed down your neck to your shoulder and it stung as they broke skin. You could feel the blood of your shoulder get lapped up as you instinctively dropped your upper half down to the cement floor and with you, the mouth of the clown followed.
A set of claws ran up your skirt and onto your left thigh and you immediately shut your legs. The clown next to you found this humorous and you opened your eyes to see the lower half of its face was blood red as the torn skin on your shoulder bled far more than you thought it would.
“Oh don't worryyy it won't kill you, you've already shown me you're such a strong girl, running around in the sewers for hours from the big bad monster chasing you.” A moan left your mouth when the lips of the entity next to you latched right back onto your shoulder to suck the blood from your wound. Your body was so exhausted that you didn't even have the strength to sit up and move away from it.
“What are you going to do to me?” Death felt inevitable but delaying it and leaving you unknowing of what's to come felt cruel. When the clown's mouth left your shoulder you let out a whimper and the loss of its touch made your body shudder. “I'm not sure, but once I have an idea you'll be the first to know...” The creature winked at you and returned to sniffing the air. He glanced down at you with a knowing look and the truth was evident, you were strangely enjoying this… You felt it first when you were picked up while it was pretending to be Linda. This was a familiar heat you could only identify as arousal.
The clown, the monster - Pennywise didn't have to ask you tell him what you felt, as he could see, hear, smell and sense it within you. Even if he did ask you wouldn't be able to lie about it. Not with the way your legs were clenched rightly. Pennywise gave you a curious coo and rose to his feet and walked a short distance away from you.
“Are you just going to be my pet now? Want me to indulge you just like you indulged me?” Its gloved hand gestured a come hither motion and you rose up and got on your hands and knees and crawled over to it and that only made the clown's toothy grin widen. It moved its finger in a circular motion and you understood what it was instructing you to do and you rolled over on your back and then back on your hands and knees. The humiliation did nothing to absolve your arousal.
The trick you did made your cruel captor howl in laughter and what hurt was that it was laughing at you and not just laughing to laugh. The joke this clown was telling was you and you were just a source of entertainment to it. You widened your knees further apart on the floor to let your legs splay open and the clown's brow ridge rose at your behavior. “Ooh you don't know just what it is you're asking for.”
Instead of replying to his remark you just lightly swayed your aching hips. You had no idea if this was going to work but the way he touched you and put his mouth on your shoulder felt intimate in nature. This thing could have been male, female, both, or neither and still your body's feelings and situation wouldn't have changed. Was this the fear that was arousing you or the depravity of the unknown?
You rolled over onto your back and widened your legs, your skirt was still covering your lower half which was facing the opposite of where it was so you didn't feel completely exposed. “Someone's feeling bold…” That sing-songy voice returned and the clown's expression appeared like it didn't believe you were genuinely doing what you were. His mouth extended open with various rows of teeth showing, with the skin of its face stretched so far back you could barely see his eyes. Still you stayed in the same position on the floor with your knees up and legs wide looking at it from an upside down view.
When you didn't run, not like you had the strength to, it closed its mouth and crept closer to you. You were instantly dwarfed in size by the clown again as it appeared over you. Clawed gloved hands roamed your body again and you were caught off guard when it tore right through the center of your skirt. You weren't going to let it call your bluff so you stayed still while it did the same with your undergarment. Those glowing orbs for eyes never left your own as if searching for some kind of hesitation or hoax in your expression to give in to the inkling that you've been pretending this whole time.
Once his gloved hand touched your heated core your hips rolled and then your back arched unintentionally. He pulled his hand away and examined it and you could see from your position on the floor that the front side of the glove was sticky with your slick.
Your legs parted more, inviting it to come closer and in return it smeared some of your slick across your face and laughed at you. You watched one of its gloved hands reach down to the groin area of the aged clown suit and tear at the fabric. Something thick and a pale pink color unrolled itself, then extended straight out and began to swell. The rigid tendril’s tip thinned out somewhat as it reached its tip where there was a slit with oozing clear fluid leaking from it onto your bare belly. There were grooves and notches along its shaft, and it was completely alien to the anatomy you would have expected.
You couldn't hide your confused expression looking at its sex, the thickness of it was about the same thickness as your forearm and the same length as it. Maybe this wasn't worth doing to hope it would put you in its good graces to let you go. If this was his original intent he would have taken you by force hours ago but instead he waited for you to demean and humiliate yourself. You were dragged from thoughts when a glob of drool landed in your right eye and you shut it then put your hand up to notice that above you it had its many rows of teeth on display again and it was drooling profusely with much of it hitting your face.
The entity you were straddling on your back put a gloved hand on each of your legs, and then another pair of arms and gloved hands stretched out from its back with a cracking noise and they restrained your arms. The grip the four hands had on your limbs was tight and forceful and the claws on the end of each finger were digging into your skin. With it above you and restraining in such a way the only thing you could do was stare at it in its face.
When the tip of his organ came in contact with your folds there was no heat to be felt from it, it was as cold as his stare. He wasn't angling himself so the appendage itself was searching for what it needed and moved autonomously. You didn't get a moment to brace yourself, or feel ready before the tip breached your slit and within seconds the girth of the shaft was fighting with the walls of your cunt for acceptance. Your eyes burned with tears from the pain of the stretch as a gasp left your mouth with his tendril impeding inch by inch until it would sheathe itself.
If it didn't leak its own fluid to help with the process there was no way this creature would have been able to force it in like without splitting you in two. Above you was the same expressionless face with dozens of sharp fangs hovering above your face and of course it was still drooling. Some of the drool started to drip onto and then into your mouth and weep up to your nostrils if you held your head too far back. If you didn't angle your head up you'd surely drown from this.
It didn't take long for the guilt and pure horror of your situation to come back up, this monster killed and potentially ate your best friend then lied to you, tricked you, and tried to eat you and here you lay on your back like a whore in the most intimate of encounters with it. What kind of a best friend were you? A whimper left your mouth when you felt a particularly hard thrust. That hard thrust was followed by several quick snaps of the clown's hips that caused pain in your lower half that made you bite your lip.
With restrained hands and unable to grab on to anything, the only thing you could do was lay there and wonder when it would be over. When a pace of rhythm he liked was found your prior feelings seemed to change. The tip of his non-human cock began to repeatedly nudge the crux of your cervix in a way that had your hips rolling and rising up to meet his pounding. You didn't have to bite your lower lip anymore to hold your pained cries as those turned into embarrassed moans and whimpers with the introduction of pleasure.
If it was possible to lay here all day while this creature did this to you, then you probably would have. Even with all your bruises, cuts, scrapes, scratches and a singular bite, yet none of that compared to this. Whatever kind of sick and guilty enjoyment you got from fear, and from it hurting you led to this. On your back being used by it while the wet sounds of your connecting sexes echoed throughout the room. There was still shame and embarrassment in this act but that did not drown out your desires. Looking up at the clown you wondered what it was thinking during this. Was it just as ashamed as you, a predator copulating with its prey? Would he still want to eat you after this interaction was finished and he got his fix?
His tongue lazily rolled out of his mouth and swiped the side of your face, lathering the drool up to your eyebrow. A loud gasp left your mouth when his pace got faster. With the way it was rutting down into you, the fabric of the clown suit was rubbing up against that special bundle of nerves above your entrance just right and it made your eyes flutter. The area of connection that formed from having him inside you became so wet that his organ had slipped out. It autonomously and frantically found its way back into you and the thrusting resumed.
Your hips raised up further and that fabric that was rubbing you so wonderfully started to make you feel like a knot was undone in your lower stomach. Before you knew it you felt white hot heat while your walls clenched and spasmed around the cock that had no intention of slowing down its pace of intrusion. Each clench was harder than the last, finally a long moan left your lips. It took the monster above you a few more rough thrusts before he halted and stayed inside you while a cool liquid shot into you rope by rope, so much so that you could feel it frothing out around him. Your breaths were deep and slow and for the first time in hours it felt like time was going by slower. While you laid there with it still inside you still unmoving even after the end of its climax, those golden yellow orbs watched you drift off and fall asleep underneath it.
When you awoke you were lying face down in your home and everything hurt. All the blood on you had dried and coagulated, your bottom half was still naked, all your bruises, cuts, scrapes, scratches and a singular bite were still there. The moment you tried to stand up your knees buckled miserably. Your front door was thankfully closed and locked. That thing must have dropped you flat on your face and left you there without a care. You wobbled your way to the shower and sat in there and let the hot water run on you. Hopefully it wasn't too late to scrub your wounds with an antibacterial soap so you wouldn't get sepsis.
The first time you looked in the mirror you almost cried, you had a big purple bruise on the side of your face. Your hair was matted, you had a cut on your lip from ultimately trying to kiss that thing and you couldn't remember when. There was some kind of dried crust from the clown drooling on your face. The bite on your shoulder made it look like you had survived a bear attack. You still had your left shoulder and arm for which you were great for. There were tiny pin prick wounds around your wrists from where it had been restraining you.
Once you picked your dignity off of the floor then got dressed and fixed your hair you'd have to go out and do grocery shopping like you promised would do for days now. Obviously you covered your face with makeup before you left your home and put sunglasses on. You wore a longer skirt and turtle neck and on your way out the door you tried your hardest not to look at Linda's missing person's posters that were on the couch. The walk to the grocery store was surprisingly quiet and you hadn't seen a single hallucination on the way there.
In the aisles of the store you picked up the essentials, being careful not to linger too close to others and kept your head down. You walked past a group of kids picking up snacks and made it to the next aisle to put ground coffee in your cart. “So what are we going to do?” You heard one of the girls ask with a worried tone and you fought your brain telling you to leave it alone and move on so you eavesdropped. “We go into the sewers and find the clown, how else are we going to prove that my dad is innocent?!” you dropped the second can of ground coffee on the ground and your heart skipped a beat.
Soon as your breathing became faster and you pushed the shopping cart into several aisles over, your hand had been grabbing the cart so hard that you could see the whites of your knuckles. The tears started rolling down from under your glasses and the gravity of the situation began to hit you, and hit you hard it did. You watched the sign above the butcher's display case become blurry under your tears under the words and letters rearranged themselves reading 'I'll kill them all.'
Okay but imagine this: cock warming while you help apply his clown make up.
18+
"Robert," you warned with a strict voice. "Stop that or I'm going to mess up your make up."
He hummed with a smile on his face as you continue to press the white painted covered sponge against his cheek.
"You feel so good, darlin. Can't help it," he lets out a tight groan, his cock thickening inside of you.
You bit down on the inside of your cheek, doing your best not to let him know how turned on you were by this. His cock deep inside of you as you sat on his lap, applying his Pennywise make up.
"The show starts in ten minutes and I only have your left cheek covered. I need to focus," you said, kissing his nose.
Bob's, or as you called him Robert, hands rested on your hips, slowly dragging you back and forth on his cock. This was his idea, you sitting on his cock as you applied his make up, and you thought he would behave but you should have known better. Robert was crazy about you, this relationship new only by a few weeks, and you two couldn't keep your hands off of each other. Any chance you could get, his cock was inside of you or your mouth was taking his entire length.
"Fuck, your pussy is so god damn tight," Bob groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as his cock began to swell inside of you. "Can I fill you up, darlin? Please. I'm not gonna be able to hold it."
Setting the sponge and face paint down on the small desk next to you, you slowly grazed your lips over his, breathing heavily into his mouth. You let out soft mewls of pleasure, saying his name in the kind of voice you knew drove him wild, and started bouncing on his cock. The sounds of skin on skin and your shared groans of pleasure were sure to be heard by anyone passing by his carnival tent. Neither of you care, however. As hard as you were trying to hold back, hearing Bob beg for you always made you melt for him.
"Fill me up real good, ya? So I'm walking around all night with your cum running down my leg," you nibbled on his bottom lip, wet pussy dragging your arousal against his pants.
Bob's head fell against your shoulder as you rode him faster now, the old wooden chair holding both of you up creaking.
"God damn it, darlin. You know I love it when you talk like that," he brushed away your shirt from your neck to sink his teeth into your slick skin. "Take it all, every last drop."
The last three words were enunciated with a hard thrust into you before his warmth filled you full, some of it dripping down onto his lap.
Pennywise x reader. Reader has a pussy but no gendered pronouns are used. TW Menstruation. Pennywise eats you out while you're on your period. N.SFW. MDNI.
Devoured
Pennywise's fascination with you demands restraint.
Your flesh and blood tempt it daily, tightening a knot in the pit of its bottomless stomach that it can hardly soothe away by feeding on others.
Across eons it hasn't encountered another being it feels such an attachment to. Certainly it has kept others alive for its own benefit before; those it can manipulate into sowing seeds of fear on its behalf, those willing to lead flesh and blood to its gaping maw. But never one like you.
You confound it; hurt it with your affection and torment it with your adoration. Yet it spends as much time seeking your attention as it does feeding, salivating at the prospect of tasting you, horrified at the notion that you would no longer be there if it did. Aching, yearning, furious and enamored.
The craving is unbearable. And yet it endures.
Pennywise waits, tortured by that gnawing hunger until your monthly bleed. And then, it feasts on you, curled up between your thighs, lapping at the painfully slow trickle of blood seeping from your cunt while you claw at its back.
It could lie there for hours, drinking you down, a deep rumble of contentment rolling from its chest.
“Are you purring?” you ask, smiling through your shattered breaths as your fingers seek purchase at the base of Pennywise’s neck.
“You taste good,” it responds, matter-of-factly.
Glowing golden eyes watch you, somehow desperate for your approval, relishing the way you react to every languid lick of its tongue. It isn’t quite certain when it became addicted to that.
“I want you,” it mutters, dragging its nose between the lips of your cunt and breathing you in. It tongues the bud of your clitoris, blood-stained mouth curving into a smile. “I want you all to myself.”
“You have me. Fuck, you feel so good.” In that moment your words alone could bend the devourer of worlds to your every whim. But the only request you make is, “More. Don’t stop.”
It doesn’t look away as it sticks out its tongue to delve back into your flesh, instincts raging at it to bite and tear and feast.
But no. It cannot do that, not with you.
Not to your pretty, pretty skin, glistening with slick, blood, and saliva, throbbing and twitching beneath Pennywise’s lips.
Oh, but you taste so good.
“Fuck, Pennywise,” it hears you gasp, and what a lovely sound.
The need within it boils until little licks aren’t enough. It presses forward, its tongue completely buried in you. Deeper and deeper, salivating as it gluttonously seeks every drop of you it can. Licking and sucking, drinking you in.
Your legs rest upon its shoulders, inviting it to feast, your hands planted firmly at the back of its head as you buck your hips, rubbing your clit against Pennywise’s crimson-tipped nose.
“Don’t stop,” you demand. It couldn’t if it tried.
You’re close to climaxing, it can tell. The blood sealed tantalizingly away in your veins floods to your pussy, making you hotter, swollen, tempting beyond anything it has ever known. And sensitive. So sensitive. Your body jolts with every new sensation, and yet you so greedily seek them out, your pussy clenching and squeezing its tongue. As much of a glutton for it as it is for you.
Suddenly it’s no longer about the blood, but a new hunger. A craving for your bliss, for the agony of your ecstasy. It’s about the feeling of your fingernails digging into its back, the way your breath catches as you ride its tongue like nothing else matters. It’s your complete abandon, the beauty of your twitching muscles and nerves and flesh and sinew as you come undone with its favorite name on your lips.
And it’s the quiet afterward, the slowing of your breaths, the little shudders as Pennywise resumes its slow feeding, your fingers languidly playing with the coppery curl at the top of its head.
“So so sweet,” it muses, letting your flavor roll across its tongue. It nuzzles your inner thigh, smearing the blood from its chin before lapping that up too. It couldn’t bear to waste even a drop of you.
And while the craving grows quiet, at least for a little while, the rumble in its chest only grows louder.
Thank you for reading! Interaction is always appreciated. If you liked this you may like my other Pennywise stories.
hi omg i loved stalker!reader, she's literally me with penny lol i'm that level of unhinged for him ⋆. 𐙚 ˚🤭
but could i request a pennywise fluff oneshot idea?
like maybe it follows stalker!reader, and he saves you from a scary situation involving ppl in town, allbeit begrudgingly, but then carries you home and makes sure you're okay, and he holds you as you fall asleep ⋆˚꩜｡♡💋🥺
i think it could be an interesting challenge to write him being sweet to reader, but in his own way, while keeping him as in character as possible
It Keeps You Safe.
pun intended
Pennywise x fem!stalker!reader
☞ fluff & comfort, snuggles, townsfolk prick, catcalling, possessivess, vague mentions of canon violence, Penny being Penny-yay!
This fic is directly linked to my Adoration Headcanons, where stalker!reader made her first appearance 🩷
Hope you enjoy, lovely moot!
Alertness.
It's the kind that goes under the skin, a subtle shift in the air when someone is watching you too long.
You're just walking home, shoes a little muddy from the Barrens, head full of things you shouldn't love this much.
You've been out too late again, too close to the drains. Too close to him.
The town is half-asleep, streetlights humming low and orange.
And then someone whistles.
Your stomach drops.
The sound follows... Sloppy footsteps, lewd laughter. Some guy from the pub, or maybe he just looks like someone from the pub. You don't look long enough to find out.
You walk faster.
He calls something after you.
Something that's supposed to sound flattering but drips instead, thick and mocking and objectifying.
When you don't answer, he gets bolder.
Boots scuff the pavement.
You turn a corner and that's when the air goes wrong wrong.
The wind dies entirely and the lights flicker momentarily.
And from the gutter comes a balloon.
Crimson like wine—or blood.
It bobs once, twice.
The man behind you laughs, nervous now.
"The hell is that—"
You don't have to see what happens next.
You just hear it... Garrulous laughter. Not human...
Then the man is gone. Just gone.
Running, screaming something about a clown.
And suddenly, everything's quiet again.
Not peaceful though.
You're shaking, clutching your own arms, trying to remember how breathing works.
Then a huge shadow moves in front of you.
Pennywise steps into the streetlight like a nightmare unfolding.
Ruffled collar, too many teeth hiding behind a smile that's only now turning back to gentle. His eyes are gold, fixed right on you.
"You're trouble" he says, voice low and lilting. "Little thing wandering around my streets… collecting attention that doesnct belong to you. Oho..."
You swallow hard. "He—he followed me."
His head tilts, curious.
"I noticed... *sniff* You smell like fear. Not yours anymore, though. His."
He giggles.
Your pulse stutters.
You open your mouth to thank him, to say something sane, but then he's crouching, face inches from yours.
His gloved fingers trace a smear of dirt on your cheek.
"So fragile" he murmurs, almost to himself. "Soft little thing, all cracked china and heartbeat."
You forget to breathe—again.
He sighs dramatically, theatric as ever.
"Humans, humans... Always needing rescuing."
Then he stands, looming impossibly.
"Up up up!"
"What?"
Clawed hands slide around your waist before you can argue.
Effortless.
Like you weigh nothing.
He scoops you up against him, your shoes dangling, and the air hums faintly where his skin touches yours through fabric.
You cling out of reflex.
He chuckles, deep and sharp.
"Oh relax, little magpie. I'm not hungry tonight."
That shouldn't be comforting, but somehow it is.
The world blurs.
You blink, and then you're home...
His way of moving, reality bending to suit his whim.
He sets you down on the bed, surprisingly careful. His claws catch the blanket, tucking it under your chin.
"You—you scared him off."
"I do that." He grins, the corners of his mouth twitching wider than humanly possible. "Scaring is easy. And fun! You're… harder."
He studies you for a long moment then, gaze flicking from your eyes to your trembling hands.
Then, almost absently, he sits beside you, weight making the mattress dip.
The room feels too small with him in it.
His voice softens.
"Don't go walking out there alone again. Unless you want to see good old Pennywise go all angry."
"Mhm... I like seeing you" you murmur, half-asleep already.
He laughs quietly, an eerie musical sound. "Of course you do."
One gloved finger taps your forehead, then your collarbone, then he pokes your knee just because.
"Hmm. Still in one piece. Mostly."
You blink up at him.
"What'd you mean? Mostly?"
He leans closer, eyes glinting.
Now electric blue.
"No bite marks, no missing bits… Shame. You mortals bruise so easily. It's adorable!"
Then, without warning, he pinches your cheek like a nosy grandmother.
"Soft! See? Perfectly soft. Very snuggleable."
"You're mad." You say, entirely smitten...
He looks equally delighted.
"Awee... Compliment accepted."
You're soon drifting, warmth seeping through your limbs, safe in the strangest way possible.
Somewhere above you, the bed shifts, and you feel a heavy arm curl around your waist. Claiming.
He's really warm for something that shouldn't have warmth at all, or pulse.
Is It simulating all these things for you? Knowing humans find comfort in them.
The ruffles of his collar brush your neck.
His chest rises and falls slow and deliberate, like he's mimicking your breathing just to lull you.
Here's your answer. Even him breathing is intentional.
Long fingers trace patterns over your ribs, almost like he's mentally counting them.
You burrow closer anyway.
His laughter fades into something like a purr.
When you wake in the morning, he's gone. Only a single red thread is tied around your wrist, knotted neat.
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Author’s Note: This was requested but I accidentally deleted it from my inbox, but it’s here! Much like my “what do the slashers smell like” headcanons I’ll be describing the hygiene of some of these guys so if that grosses you out this one won’t be fun.
Characters included: Pennywise, Art the Clown, Valak, Brahms Heelshire, Pinhead, The Djinn
Warnings/notes: 18+ MDNI (nothing explicit but still), descriptions of kissing/heavy making out and rough affection, descriptions of body horror in Pinhead’s part, descriptions of dental hygiene, it/he pronouns for Pennywise, he/they pronouns for Pinhead, no physical description of reader, not beta read
Pennywise:
• Getting a kiss from Pennywise is not something that happens at the beginning of your relationship (if that’s what you call it)
• It’s not that it doesn’t understand kissing. He understands quite well actually. But kissing a human has never been something the Deadlights have even considered before. But it happens eventually and when it does it’s messy, sloppy, and surprisingly dominating.
• Pennywise’s version of kissing teeters between the average, sweet kissing you were familiar with and whatever the entity’s definition of kissing is.
• He holds your face in his hand and pecks at your lips and cheeks. When the faux clown is feeling particularly worked up, he’ll hold you tight and kiss you deeply, a deep growling in his chest as he does so. And after a while, his version of kissing turns into more licking than kissing.
• You try to explain to it that licking the side of your face is not kissing and you’re promptly shushed. He knows, he just doesn’t care.
• Pennywise doesn’t taste bad when you kiss him. Which is surprising when you realize dental hygiene is nonexistent to him but less surprising when you realize that Pennywise isn’t a clown but a cosmic entity that can change appearance, smell, even taste on a whim. It definitely makes kissing him a whole lot more appealing.
Art the Clown:
• Are you sure you want to kiss him? Like are you really sure? You are? Okay…
• Art’s kisses depend on his mood. They can range from being lighthearted and silly to incredibly harsh and dominating.
• If he's in a particularly good mood, his kisses are surprisingly soft. He'll leave a trail of kisses on your neck and jaw before kissing your lips gently. Sometimes he'll nip at your bottom lip if he's feeling playful or frisky.
• When things do heat up, Art gets a lot rougher. He'll hold your head in place while hungrily kissing you. If he's not in the best mood, he might wrap his hand around your throat to keep you in place.
• Art can get nasty with kisses. Like truly gross. There will be spit, there will be tongue. And depending on how many people he has killed that day there might be a little (or a lot) of blood as well.
Valak:
• Kissing Valak is a rare thing but when he does kiss you it always feels like he’s claiming you in some way, like he’s reminding you of what he is and what it means to be with him.
• He often pulls you in by the chin and leads you to him, mostly when he’s in his nun form. He often kisses you slowly. He rarely gives out short, sweet kisses because to him they’re meaningless and not worth his time.
• His teeth can be a problem when it comes to kissing him. In his true form and his faux nun form, he has rows of sharp teeth which sometimes get in the way.
• He’s not opposed to using those teeth either. When he’s feeling particularly playful he’s been known to bite your lip. He only does this when he’s the Nun, the teeth he has in his true form might just rip your lip off.
• Speaking of teeth, do angels and demons brush their teeth? I doubt Valak does and I highly doubt he feels the need to do so. That being said, Valak’s mouth doesn’t taste awful but his breath does smell like the rest of him….fire and brimstone, as if he rolled around in Hell before tiptoeing into the material plane. It's an…acquired taste.
Brahms Heelshire:
• It took a bit for Brahms to kiss you properly.
• There are insecurity issues surrounding his face and for a while he'd just "kiss" you through his mask, pecking the porcelain lips against your skin instead of his own.
• It's not until you lift his mask and kiss him first that all his hesitation stops.
• Brahms is the walking definition of needy. Nearly every kiss from him feels desperate, like all he ever wants in life is for you to touch him. Like he's scared it will somehow be the last kiss.
• He's quite the messy kisser. When Brahms gets worked up (which he often does), he tends to lack coordination. He's not bad at kissing but his eagerness and constant need for more get in the way of him learning how to get good at it.
• Brahms clings to you when he kisses you. He'll tug at your clothes and grope any part of you he can get a hold of.
• He attempts to turn sweet, short kisses into something more and has a bad habit of pouting when you tell him you can't sit around and make out with him all day.
Pinhead:
• When you first started a relationship with Pinhead you assumed kissing him on the lip was simply not an option for you. Although you did sit and ponder about what it would be like you ultimately wrote it off as a possibility.
• When you wanted to show the cenobite affection you would take to kissing their hand or giving them a hug.
• You were completely taken aback when the Cenobite offered to give you what you craved.
• Pinhead surprised you by pulling the pins out from around the front of his face. One by one he pulled the long rods of metal out from around his lips, nose, cheeks, and chin. It was horrifying but in an odd way, you were extremely flattered that he was willing to do that for you.
• Kissing Pinhead is a rare occurrence but when it happens they kiss you so passionately that it leaves you dizzy and wanting more.
• He kisses you slowly, holding you close as he does so. His hands barely wander unless he knows there's something else you want. If that's the case he will tease you as he kisses you.
• His lips are freezing and his breath smells slightly metallic, like a faint hint of blood is lingering in his mouth. It's not unpleasant but it takes some getting used to.
The Djinn/Nathaniel Demerest:
• The Djinn rarely kisses you but when he does it's as a reminder that you're his. He barely does it to show affection.
• This is not to say he's incapable of showing affection, he absolutely is capable. But he's not very affectionate at his core.
• When he chooses to kiss you, it's often short but there's a firmness to it. He grips your chin and pulls you to his lips and when he lets go of your chin, the kiss stops. That's how it often is unless you're craving something more.
• When you are craving more affection from him he unfortunately likes to turn it into a game. He will constantly try to trick you into audibly wishing for him to kiss you. He's not doing it to be mean per se, it's just his nature.
• When he relents, he kisses you for as long as you want. He's surprisingly passionate and unless you're careful things may heat up too quickly with him.
• He can get surprisingly feisty under the right circumstances. If you play your cards right one kiss from him can turn into an entire makeout session.
• Don't put lip biting past him, he'll absolutely do it.
• Sometimes, when you pull back to catch your breath he'll grab you by the back of the head, pull you back, and leave marks all over your neck.
