𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖓𝖔𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗 𝖃 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗(NSFW CONTENT)
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.
“Why would I? I watch you sleep anyway."
“...Right."