Pennywise x Female Reader Imagine | mind your manners | part 1/1
Holy fuck, I’m absolutely baked and horny as hell so you’ve gotta suffer with me @tilltheweedstakeyou . I was totally gonna be sneaky and do this through anon but it got too fucking long 💀
Imagine you move to Derry after some long-lost relative of yours bequeathed their home to you. You absolutely love the area except for the creepy house at the end of the road. You’re not sure if it’s the ramshackle appearance, the caving roof and gnarled windows, the rust, the weeds but whatever it is, chills dance along your spine whenever you take a peek. Something dark, something horrible lurks in those walls, you feel it in your bones as your every instinct screams to stay away, stay away, for the love of god, stay away.
The clown comes to you several weeks after you settle into 28 Neibolt in your dreams, and then in quick side-eye flashes until he invades every aspect of your life. You start seeing him around the house, then out when you run errands, in the park, in the little café you like going to on Sundays, at work.
His random appearances stop scaring you and over time, his lack of appearance is more distressing than his presence. He’s become such an integral part of your day and it’s odd when he’s not around. He never does much, he tends to loom in corners and cloak himself in shadow, watching with those burning eyes of his. Sometimes he speaks but he mainly watches, jealously capturing your every moment.
He never touches you – when you’re awake at least. There are times you wake soaked with sweat and heart pumping, thighs damp and trembling. Mind hazy, it’s during those moments you swear you feel the remnants of fingers brushing over the curves of your face and the slope of your neck. You never bring it up and neither does he, but he knows without a doubt. You bet he can smell the anticipation, the excitement pouring from your body even if you do your best to hide it. Your body has been thrumming in lowkey arousal all week, every sly glance, every quirk of his lips sets you alight and by the weekend, you’re a thundercloud ready to burst, frustrated and lusting in equal measure.
He gets progressively closer and closer throughout the week, and his eyes linger just a little longer than usual, slowly roving over your body. He scents the air on occasion, his pupils dilated when he spears you with an intense look. A strange trill rumbles from his chest, calling to you with a desperate black yearning that leaves you short of breath, cunt clenching hard.
It looks like he’s about to reach for you and you almost sob in relief, begging for release with your eyes only for him to stop before he makes contact. He pulls away, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with hellfire. His fangs creep past his lips, he’s utterly ravenous, looking like he could swallow you in one bite. He never follows through even though he knows how badly you want him, parting with a final look and a warning to be good.
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