#Trying not to pull that face waiting for them to realize its not there anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

01zfan · 2 months ago

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slope

model!anton x camgirl!reader | 8.9k words

contains: minji from njz is mentioned, reader is a camgirl, hookups and previous fwb relationship mentioned, protected sex, recorded sex, sex at the workplace mentioned

Neither of your jobs were fun. There was never any control in the amount of people that came in, no way of knowing when it’d be busy. There were Friday afternoons where there’s no business and Monday mornings when everyone was packed shoulder to shoulder. There were countless shoplifters that could never be picked up by the cameras due to the crowd and their ability to blend in and disappear.

There was always something wrong with the building itself. The sterile white interior was to hide that last week they found a rat in the food court, and the month before that there was kid missing for the better half of an afternoon. There were several buckets around the mall, picking up water from leaks and wet floor signs that were perpetually propped up.

Behind your register you spent all day handing gift receipts to customers. Over the years faces started to blend together and at this point in the day, someone only stuck out if they made a particularly terrible impression. If they asked about stock you didn’t have or if they needlessly gave you attitude they’d be on your mind for the rest of the day. At home doing dishes and randomly thinking about the tone of a strangers voice and getting so mad you have to leave to clear your head.

Your coffee always ended up becoming lukewarm because you constantly ended up working by yourself. You never had time to enjoy your coffee at the right temperature, and the corporate curated playlist became the worst type of white noise. Your customer service voice was wearing off, and standing behind the register with nowhere else to go was making you restless. Your knees nearly buckled during your last transaction, and you leaned all your weight against the table that the point of sale system rested on.

When the last customer left the store and people were browsing you finally had a moment to yourself. You had your wasted drink and your phone, tucked away beside the register in the place your manager chided you for. But she wasn’t here—she was never here—and the one thing that freed you from your customer service purgatory was stealing quick glances at your phone. Tiny moments of looking mindlessly at your notifications was what got you through the work day, and the act of defiance made you feel like you were in charge somehow.

You steal one glance towards the swinging door leading to the back of house. Your shift lead and coworker were back there, one on their break and the other pretending like they were doing work. When you realized neither of them were coming out even if you were screaming for help you pull your phone from its hiding spot beside the register. You prop up your elbows and rest your head in your hands, trying to hide that you’re looking at your phone and not bending down to stretch your body. You reason that it’s only fair you look at your phone, that’s probably what the two of them were doing in the back anyways. No one was in line to buy something and this was the fourth Shawn Mendes song you’ve heard in the last hour. You deserved to scroll around on your apps for a moment.

The time was what caught your attention first. That rush made the worst half of your work day disappear, and your coworker was due to come back on the floor any minute. You had a text from your annoying roommate about something annoying you were going to ignore until you couldn’t anymore. A notification of a TikTok being sent to you, something about threads on Instagram. You kept scrolling, waiting for something else.

For the past month that’s all that it felt like you were doing. Each time you looked at your phone you were waiting for a text message or a call. You wanted it to be from Anton, who used to work at the clothing store across from where you work. Your arrangement for your breaks was still so engraved in the back of your mind it had become a habit.

While you stare at your old text conversations with him, you see the swinging door open. You shove your phone into the cubby hole the same time Minji comes out. You relax seeing her, the one person who cares less about this job than you do. There’s no reason to play into the employee-of-the-month persona when it’s just Minji. She’s still finishing the food she got on her break and adjusting her uniform while she comes to you.

You didn’t even know what was happening in the store as Minji stood beside the register. You just looked at her, doing a quick scan of the store before reaching over you to grab her watered down drink. She took one last sip of mainly ice and water before tossing it in the garbage.

“You can go on your break.” Minji says.

You pull your phone from its hiding spot just for Minji to put her phone in the exact same place. She swallows the last of her food just in time for two people to wander. Minji greets them, a superficial hello as you grab the rest of your things behind the register.

Wordlessly you traded off with her, signing out from the system so she could sign in. You slide past Minji and she goes to your spot, standing on the anti-fatigue mat your manager got in response to you two begging for a chair.

After that you moved the fastest you had all day to make it to the back of house. Exactly what you expected was waiting for you behind the swinging door. Your shift supervisor was on her phone, looking at you from the side before going back to the loud video playing on her phone.

“Going on your break?” She asked.

There was a time when your shift supervisor was the hardest worker in the store. One step below the manager with none of the benefits, but she used to run the store diligently. Now she seemed to always be in the back on her phone, pretending to type something pertaining to business or ordering something else. Now she watches loud videos and was anal about time management, despite spending the majority of her day not helping on the floor.

But you’re not supposed to be focused on work. For the next thirty minutes you are free, nothing is tying you to work. You are trying to be in and out of the store fast, but your supervisor insists on having a conversation. When she pulls away from her phone completely you have to hold back a sigh, knowing you’re about to get a lecture on something unimportant. You were still pissed from when she took a customer’s side over yours last week, giving her a discount on her purchase even though she was in the wrong and rude. You wondered if she even remembered how the customer talked to you when she checked her watch quickly.

“Make sure you’re actually back in thirty minutes.” She says.

“Alright.” You say.

You don’t look at her anymore after you throw your jacket over your shoulder. From your bag you stuff your keys and wallet into your pockets, and you’re done. Your shift supervisor gets to sit in the back on her ass and get paid for it, but you can’t have a grace period with coming back from your break?

This is the exact reason why you and Minji abuse the fact that no one else wants to work here. You both get to be the worst employees in your own ways. She gives attitude back to the customers and is late almost everyday. You take extra long breaks and have a problem getting off your phone. What matters is that you two are here for every shift, even if you don’t want to be, and you two have been here for a long time. Like this place is purgatory or something worse you can’t escape. So you say okay to your supervisor telling you to come back on time, even when you both know you’re not going to. At the very most she’ll chide you and say something slick about being here on time, and Minji will say something under her breath about being grateful you two are here at all.

“Enjoy your break.” Your shift supervisor says.

“Thanks.”

You push the swinging door a little harder and clear out of the store a little faster. You don’t even look over your shoulder to tell Minji goodbye, and you don’t think twice about another unpredictable rush of people coming into the store. Minji is too focused on helping three customers at once to tease you about coming back on time. The best time to leave was when it was the busiest. If you were lucky by the time you came back the crowd would thin out.

You slip out of the chaos, enjoying the peace you’re going to have for the next twenty-nine minutes. You’re able to block out the grating music and Minji yelling for the next person to come to the register.

If this was a month ago, Anton would’ve been in the food court. He would’ve been sitting at the table right next to the yellow wet floor sign to sit at a table facing your storefront. He would’ve had his messenger bag slung over one shoulder and resting in his lap, eating whatever he munched on from the food court while he waited for you. You left your work in such a rush like he would still be there, looking at his phone but paying attention to who was coming in and out. You looked to the left to see the store Anton used to work at, the constant food traffic was something he hated. People going in meant they were messing with the clothes in the display, unfolding them and leaving it for Anton and his coworkers to fix.

When you found yourself stuck too much in the routine of seeing Anton you look up. On the second floor the images of his face and body sporting a luxury brand knocks you out of whatever trance you end up in. Anton from the past would see you before you saw him, pushing his white chair out from under the table until it grated against the linoleum floor. You can still see him accidentally knocking over his plastic cup from Auntie Anne’s in his haste to follow you. Anton from the past would’ve cut through the endless chatter and walked against the foot traffic of everyone else to keep in time with you. But the Anton now models for Gucci and Louis Vuitton, and his pictures are hanging up on the second floor to advertise the brand.

Still though, you can’t help but think about him. You would always look past Anton fixing his jacket and slinging his messenger bag just to fix it again. You liked looking from side to side in fake contemplation, like you both didn’t know where you were heading to.

Even if Anton isn’t here, you still do some of the same things. You turn on your heel the same way and head towards the exit against the foot traffic of everyone else. You look over your shoulder like he would be there, bobbing and weaving through the crowd to catch up to you. Sometimes you kept a distance other times you two would walk at the same pace, matching strides and everything. Without him there beside you, you imagined him still in the crowd, apologizing to everyone he was bumping into. You could see him vividly mouthing excuse me and sorry while you passed through without saying a word. He’d be moving sideways, trying to be as nimble as you were on your feet. He was too nice. If someone bumped into you, that was their fault. You were on your thirty minute break, everyone else was in your way.

The crowd didn’t thin out until you made it out of the food court. By the time you made it to the kids play area it was sparse. just the few people coming in from the parking lot or leaving the mall entirely. All the children that were ditched at the indoor playground stared at you walking in such a rush. Their mothers were busy shopping and the toys stopped being entertaining a long time ago, you didn’t blame them. But you kept the same pace when you normally would’ve slowed down for Anton to catch up, trying to make it to your car to maximize on your free time.

You looked up to the upper floors of the mall, the elusive place that had better hours and better pay than the stores on the ground floor. Up there they got hour breaks and a bigger staff discount. They also dealt with a different and more refined clientele, while you and your coworkers dealt with prepubescent shoplifters and adults who acted like children.

You looked even further up, until you made it to the glass ceiling where all the natural light came through. Moving up on the corporate ladder here meant being transferred to the higher end stores. But work doesn’t matter right now, you’re on your break.

You refused to slow down when you realized time was still ticking away. At this point, Anton would’ve started working up to a slow jog to close some of the distance. Another look over your shoulder and you would’ve seen he was closer, a hand over the strap of his bag and his other hand in his pocket. You zipped up your jacket. You could already feel the chill from the constant opening doors.

When you made it to your car, you were still thinking about him. You had to stop yourself from crawling in the backseat from muscle memory, and you spent your time in the drivers seat thinking about him. You had a secluded place in the back of the employee parking lot because of him. Your supervisor asked about why you were parked in the back corner of the parking lot all the time. You couldn’t tell her that you were too busy fucking the boy from a few stores down everyday on your breaks so you lied. You didn’t know that saying you had a tendency to bump into other cars would lead to you being quarantined in the back corner. The word spread fast, because even after Anton left and you tried rejoining your coworkers cluster of cars they started avoiding your vehicle like the plagued. So you stayed in the corner and you continued to think about Anton and what you two would do around this time of day.

Since Anton left there wasn’t anything that gave you that rush anymore. Knowing Anton was a couple strides behind you and he was closing in made it feel like you were young, no other worries beyond getting to your car as fast as possible. Getting closer and closer to your vacant car with the close-to-illegal tint blacking out all of your windows. That moment when it would just be you and him in the parking lot. Hearing his feet drag across the gravel in contrast to your light and quick steps. Not looking over your shoulder that one last time but knowing he was practically right there. Looking at his reflection in the window before you unlocked the back door. Crawling inside and closing the door behind you but leaving it unlocked just for him. That moment when you could see him but he couldn’t see you was always the best.

heyyyy

is your number still the same?

Everything else happened pretty quickly. Anton replied within the day and told you that he never left the city, he only traveled to each job.

But there was no way you could tell Anton the truth initially. Despite your previous arrangement, talking about what you did as a side hustle now felt too vulgar, especially because you were convinced he no longer wanted to be associated with the life he lived working on the ground floor of the mall. But something about Anton was so inviting, you couldn’t stop yourself from telling him that you did streams on the side to try and make extra income.

Anton surprised you after you told him. He asked if you needed help. Like you were coming to your workplace hookup and part time friend for help on your camgirl side quests. But Anton campaigned to help you, he was adamant that being a model made him a professional in terms of posing and lighting. Within the week you were sneaking Anton past your annoying roommate into your bedroom to help you take pictures and videos for your new Twitter account.

He was great help. The money started coming in, you gained followers faster than you ever had. You were getting the money finally, and you just needed a little bit more money to finally get a place of your own. The thought of a collaboration came to mind, and when you brought the idea up to Anton he campaigned for himself again, instead of a popular creator you were mutuals with.

You came around to the proposal quickly. The thought of working with someone you didn’t know already seemed crazy, but with Anton you could do it in the safety of your own apartment. So when he offered you agreed, and then you set time off for the weekend to film and asked your roommate politely if she could make herself scarce for a couple days.

“What if we went somewhere else to film?” Anton asked the question while you were putting back on your clothes after another photoshoot. He stood with his back facing you as if he wasn’t taking pictures of your naked body minutes prior. “Just to be extra safe? I think your viewers would like that too.” He added.

You told Anton he made a good point and that night he texted you to pack your bags for the cold and he picked you up directly from work at the end of the week.

The whole ride upstate Anton was adamant about going to a different location. He took his role as your director very seriously. A new location would interest your viewers, everything about it would bring people back. You two decided that a video would give you more money than a stream, and the longevity offered on posting to the platform was unbeatable.

When you and Anton arrived at the ski lodge you tried your best to not be amazed. You stopped mid-conversation to look at the cabin through the dashboard in amazement. Anton was still staring at you for a moment, and then he followed yours through the falling snow. The cabin was beautiful and laid out in a long line of the other cabins down the road.

“How much was all of this?” You ask when he puts the car in park in the shoveled driveway.

The thought of a private cabin in the snow and the cost was already piling on your never ending list of expenses. But Anton shook his head, even when he grabbed your bags from the backseat and let you lead the way to the cabin.

“The model money pays well.” Anton laughs to himself. You walk up the steps to the cabin and open the lockbox. “I came here for a photoshoot and they gave me a discount and everything.” He continues

When you open up the door your surprised again. You know that this is a resort, that it’s supposed to be a home away from home. But even with Anton turning on the light and coming in behind you to drop the bags by the door it’s peaceful. No loud roommate, no expenses, no work. There’s a peaceful stillness, even if you’re here under debauched pretenses.

“I think.” You point towards the common area with the long gray couch and the television hidden away in the entertainment center. “I think here would be a good place for it.” You motion vaguely to the area in front of the head of the couch. Anton walks beside you “We could set the tripod up there, ya know?”

When you look to Anton he’s nodding his head, but then he points upstairs.

“We should look at the other rooms too.” With his messenger bag over his shoulder and your backpack on his back he starts walking towards the stairs. You take off your shoes and follow after him. ”Just in case.”

Up the stairs you see the other rooms. To the left from the landing there’s one bedroom, then right next to it is the other. Anton follows you into each one, letting you turn on the lights and walk around in each room. When you turn back you see him waiting in the doorway. He’s already seen the entire cabin, he lets you choose the bigger room and brings your things up before he even thinks about grabbing his own things.

“Still prefer the couch I think.” Anton nods but still waits in the doorframe. He follows you like a shadow down the stairs, only creating distance when you sit down on the couch. His hesitation makes you pause. Your laptop is in front of you and so is the camera, and the tripod is already set up in front of you. “Once I’m done with everything up we can get started.” You say.

Anton is still off to the side from the couch, staring at you working. It feels like you’re at the mall again, instead of the food court it’s the wooden floors of the kitchen and your workplace is the living room.

You think about pressing further to see if Anton has gotten cold feet. Worse case scenario you can just have him film you, he’s done it before and you brought toys just in case. You shift on the couch and Anton finally comes closer. He sits on the furthest cushion of the couch and you prepare to hear the worst. Anton draws in a deep breath, and you push your laptop away.

“You’re not tired from the drive or anything?” Anton raises his shoulders and then motions outwards, like he’s trying to show you to let go of the burden. “Should we talk a little bit? Maybe get something to eat so we can clear our heads?”

You have to smile at Anton’s avoidance to look at you. The very first time you two met he was anything but assertive. Avoiding eye contact, delivering something for his manager and ending in a laugh when he realized how quiet he was being. He is better at holding eye contact now, but he still has to avert his eyes when he mentions why you two are here.

“Tryna take me out before we fuck, Anton?” You smile and Anton laughs too, breathy and exasperated before he smiles back. You motion towards your ready equipment. “My head is clear.”

The way Anton’s hands grip his thighs tells you he knows you’re lying. But you two haven’t caught up in forever, and you know he doesn’t want to be presumptuous. You cut him some slack, taking a deep breath of your own and crossing your legs on top of the bed.

“We should probably set some ground rules beforehand, though.”

Anton sits up on the couch and nods.

“I’m going to blur out our faces once we are done filming and we shouldn’t say eachother’s names.”

“What about pet names?”

Flashbacks to the sweaty backseat of your car and Anton moaning that you’re his baby into your ear makes you nod your head. It also makes you avoid eye contact, clearing your throat as you try to remember the other rules you wanted to set.

“I’ll ask before I do anything.” Anton looks from his lap to your face. He’s sincere, lips pulled to a tight line as he nods his head. “It’s your video and you’re in charge.” He says.

You knew Anton was different. When you became a camgirl you were exposed to an entirely different type of men. You saw the things they would say in your streams and on your posts, dirty things that had you wondering what they looked like on the other side of the screen. If you dressed pretty for a video they’d only tell you that it was nice like they knew it’d be coming off later. A setup for a terrible joke that you’d have to fake laugh at. He’s been eying you since he picked you up from work; not like he was tearing you apart but like he was trying to figure you out. No one has tried to figure you out since you started chose your profession.

You would’ve never guessed that Anton was so adamant about having you. Not in the way the other men wanted—he didn’t take you out to a disgusting bar hoping to score by paying the drink tab—but he brought you to a fancy cabin in the snowy hills and offered to take you to a fancy restaurant down the road that you’ve never been to before. He was treating this like a couple vacation. That seemed to be the way Anton wanted to have you. His pseudo-girlfriend, sitting across from him on a couch while you set up your camcorder to film you two having sex.

“Is your manager still an asshole?” He asked.

“Yeah. All she does is play on her phone in the back of house.” You answer.

What you really want to ask is why he hasn’t fucked you yet.

Like the worlds longest game of chicken, Anton has not made a single move on you. You two crossed over that line a long time ago, sometime between you pulling him on top of you during your lunch breaks. You two already talked about how awful your current managers and his former coworkers were, and he knew exactly how you liked to be touched. There was no reason to play this game, it could even be argued that this was all one big distraction from the task at hand.

You weren’t ashamed to admit that at this point in your life you had been around. Even if you were faceless in your videos and your streams that still counted as something. You were sure that Anton needed someone to match his outward demeanor. A shy, sweet girl, maybe he could find a model during one of his gigs. But he seemed persistent about you and getting to know you all over again. His doting wouldn’t stop you from making money, you knew he knew that. Sometimes it seemed like he enjoyed your resistance to his courting, that his shy chivalry didn’t have an affect on you.

Sitting across from him on the couch you still believed it. You were waiting for the moment Anton would start showing his true colors, being a little more like the other people you entertained. You wanted to call him a lover boy and pull at his beanie like you did when you both worked at the mall. You also wanted to tell him that he was doing way too much for you, that being here as his human dildo and photographer was more than enough. You still didn’t know how to possibly thank him for getting this secluded cabin away from your annoying roommate without even having to ask him.

No one tells you how cool girls who stream have to be. Men could be in this line of profession and do whatever they want. They can have no tact and still get laid just as easy. When you’re a girl who does what you do, you have to be indifferent. You have to treat everything like it doesn’t matter and you care less than you do. But you also have to be an angel, permanently with your customer service voice when you stream or interact with people over Twitter. You have to deny the sweet boys advances and lament that you’re too cool for them, even if you know nothing about them.

You also have to pretend like you don’t care that Anton hasn’t touched you since he started helping you with your side hustle. You have to pretend like you’re not so depraved by the thought of him and him alone that you start equating everything he does for you to sex. When he picked you up from work today that was sex. Him opening the car door for you and carrying your bags was also sex, and the way he let you take the biggest room was sex too. You had become so desperate in such a short amount of time that you had set up a system, all while dropping subtle hints you were too busy for a relationship.

You considered for awhile that Anton was seeing other people too. He definitely had to have a roster of his own, pretty models who liked his soft voice and gentle demeanor. You told yourself he was in a long term relationship that you didn’t know about and he was just looking to you for some fun, or helping out a friend. You also considered that he got his first model paycheck and needed a pretty thing to throw his extra money at.

You never asked Anton anything to confirm or deny your suspicions. You were too busy trying to ignore the fact that he hadn’t even touched you before you were searching up his ad campaigns in your free time. No one warns you about how cool you have to be. Treating everyone like another body is all fun and games until the body is young and interesting and kind and funny and hot and familiar and—

“I’m glad we’re here together.” Anton said.

“Me too.”

He closes a little bit of the distance on the couch, coming closer until only a cushion separates the two of you. You think to yourself again why he hasn’t fucked you yet. You would’ve settled for a quickie in the bathroom, or in the parking lot when he picked you up for old time’s sake. You would’ve settled for something as juvenile as grinding and heavy petting, anything would’ve mulled you over. You just needed your fun, that’s what you were looking for and what you were being deprived of because he was too busy treating you like his girlfriend.

Seeing how nonchalant Anton had suddenly become made you even more pent up. Was there something you didn’t know about him, was there something he was hiding? The more you thought about him, the more you realized you knew nothing about him. Just that he used to work a few stores down from you, and he modeled now and you were both pulled from your schedules to be here today.

Everything he did made you cling to his every move. When he moved even closer to you the camcorder was on the tripod now, and you shut your laptop and put it on the ground to move it out of the way.

The two of you are just sitting in silence, side by side. Even though neither of you have a time constraint, it feels like you’re running out of time. You should be pulling him on top of you, the longer you took the more footage you’d have to edit out.

“Are you usually like this?” Anton asks the question even though he knows the answer. He’s been recording and taking pictures of you for the better half of the month, and he knows that you’re never scared to film. But now you’re hesitant, it’s Anton who has to take the first step to put a hand on your thigh.

“I’ve never had to wait this long.” You move back to the corner of the couch so you’re propped against the armrest and the back of the couch. Anton immediately follows after you, turning on the couch to face you completely. When Anton covers up your body too much you put a hand on his shoulder, keeping the smallest distance between you two. But his hand moved to cup your cheek, and he’s grabbing at your thigh. “Why are you making me wait for so long?” You ask.

Anton pulls at you again, and he drags you from the armrest of the couch until you’re completely on your back.

“I wanted to treat you nice.” Anton’s hand guides your legs to wrap around his waist.

“You do treat me nice.” You say immediately. You pull Anton closer by a hand on his shoulder.

“But I also didn’t want you to think I was just around for sex.” Anton looks to the camcorder you propped up in the corner of the living room. The red dot blinks back at him, bright and a stark difference from the warm lighting of the lamp on the tiny table beside the couch. “Will this be in the video though?”

You turn Anton’s head to look back at you.

“Just pretend it’s not even there.” You say quickly. “I’ll edit it all out, don’t even worry about it.”

Anton smiles at you, and before you know it he has you flipped over on top of him. He guides you to straddle him completely, and then he’s pulling at the bottom of your shirt. He helps you push it off your body, and he balls up the fabric to throw it somewhere else in the room.

Even though you and Anton had gone all the way, you have never been put on such a display for him. Despite him recording you in various states of undress for your side hustle, there’s something different about you doing this just for him. Even if your camera records everything, you’re undressed just for Anton, and he’s looking up to you and gripping your chest like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you.

You don’t rush Anton’s hands. You let him be greedy and you let him take his time. You watch how you fit into the palm of his hand, how he wraps around you so easily.

Anton is holding onto you and then he moves so fast it almost makes your head spin. In seconds his chest is pressed to your front, and an arm behind him is keeping him propped up. He presses his lips to the valley of your chest. A gentle kiss turns into the feeling of Anton sucking at your skin. Your lips part and a tiny gasp slips out, Anton keeps sucking and you wrap a hand in his hair to keep him there.

He pulls away, and you can already tell the patch of skin is going to be ugly tomorrow. Anton is unaffected, instead looking up at you. His lips are still glistening with spit when he pulls you closer.

“Do you think I’ll still be a good fuck?” He asked.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, you knew he would be. Even when you tried your best to not give him all the credit, reasoning with yourself that his height would make him a good fuck on technicality, you knew there was something more to it. Anton had the tendency to be a gentleman, but a specific brand of chivalry that seemed to be an innate part of who he was. He held the door open for everyone without a second thought and he always waited for you to ask for help even if you were visibly struggling. He always offered to pay for anything you laid your eyes on. He knew how to throw his weight around and show off his strength in a way that wasn’t intimidating, but had a way of paying such intimate attention to everyone it made you feel like there was something more between you two. He is attentive, he is kind, he is hot, he is tall, he is strong, and you think about him all the time—of course you knew he’d be a good fuck.

Anton exhibited his strength again when you felt his hands scratch against your scalp, rough and demanding. As some sort of reprieve from the intensity you tried bringing your body closer to his. He was one step ahead of you—like he always was—and pulled you by your hair. You felt the pinprick sensation on your scalp and the tug made more of your neck and chest exposed to him. You could feel his eyes burn a hole the same place on your chest where there’d be a mark in the morning.

“How many people have you fucked?” Anton asked, eyes still on the angry splotch on your chest. “Since we stopped seeing eachother?”

He licked his lips and leaned his head towards the same spot before flickering his eyes up to you. The position Anton had you in currently was compromising and he showed no signs of letting go. By the marks on your chest and the numbness of your lips you could already tell that Anton had some sort of problem when it came to possession. He was clearly the jealous type too, evident in the way the word fucked fell from his lips. Like he had to gag the word out, like the simple thought of someone else touching you like this made him want to vomit.

The way Anton spoke made you think if you told him the truth of how many people you’ve seen there’d be nothing left of you by the time he was done. So you shook your head against the grip he has on your hair, trying to will the bass back to your voice.

“I don’t think you wanna know.” You say.

Your words hitch at the end when his hand palms your chest. Anton’s hands are soft despite the sheer size, but the way he pinches your hardened nipple is purposefully rough. Your sensitive skin is rolled between his middle finger and thumb, before he pulls your tit towards him. You whine from the pain and Anton looks at you eyes narrowed to let you know you gave him the wrong answer.

The answer to his question is much less entertaining, you couldn’t imagine telling Anton about all of the people who you entertain in your chats on your streams or the people that message you on Twitter. You also couldn’t imagine telling Anton that this was a slow week for you.

You finally casted your eyes down to Anton the same time he brought your chest back to his mouth. It was entirely too easy to hold you in the palm of his hand, to move you like you weighed nothing. You felt the absence of autonomy and it frightened you almost as much as it made you want to grind your hips on him again. The restriction didn’t stop you from moaning out when you felt Anton’s teeth graze your nipple, or whimpering when he brought his other hand to harshly pinch the other side.

You already feel an impeding orgasm just from how rough he’s being with you, you can feel your walls seize around nothing as you cause more of a mess on his lap. The feeling churning in your stomach almost made you sick as you looked down at Anton, tears dotting your waterline as it all became too much. He looked up from your chest to see your deep pout and wet eyes. Instead of cooing at you affectionately and asking what he could do to fix it he only laughed at you. With your chest in his mouth and his lips sucking on your skin he laughed. The vibrations made you jump and twist your hand around in his grip, desperately looking for his wrist to push your nails into.

“Were you thinking about me when you were with other people?” He asked. “Thinking about your boyfriend while you were playing girlfriend with other guys?”

You want to tell Anton that he is not your boyfriend and you don’t only entertain men. But once again, the truth seems to be suspended in Anton’s presence. So you nod your head, looking for some sort of reprieve from all the pressure. The fact that you look down at a fully clothed Anton while you’re getting more and more undressed is too much. Your bra came off a long time ago, and when you can get out of Anton’s greedy grip you try to push down at your waistband. You try to press your chest against his to kill two birds with one stone, but his hand that moved from your hair to your shoulder keeps you in place.

“Aht aht.” You could hear the mocking tone in his voice, your eyes refused to let you look down at the smirk that probably played on his lips. Your body unsuccessfully tried closing itself against Anton’s again, just to have his other hand tug on your hair again. “Don’t be embarrassed.” He coos.

Anton prevents you from pressing your body against his. You feel his eyes rake up and down your figure, again and again and you feel dizzy. You clench around nothing again and you whine, not stopping yourself from shaking your head.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

Anton hand released your hair a while ago but you keep it in the same place. You can’t form a thought but the way Anton looks at you tells you he already knows. Still he tilts his head to the side. He gives you the chance to answer, the same way a predator lets it’s prey run away for the sake of the chase.

“Fuck me please.” You say.

When you appear to be the most hopeless, Anton goes for the kill. His hands releasing you completely makes you freeze, like you weren’t fighting against his grasp moments prior. He looks at you looking at him, and then his hands go to resting behind his head.

“Do your thing.” He says.

You reach for the buttons on his pants way too fast. You stand on shaking legs and knees to undo it with hasty hands, completely opposite of Anton’s demeanor. His hands are lax behind him, barely holding himself up while you push his pants down his leg. Your pants are caught like a constricting belt on your waist, the material on your leg rides up more and more with each move you make. You’re unbothered though, more concerned with getting Anton undressed before your own comfort.

The only way Anton moves is to reach into his back pocket as you push his pants down. He grabs his wallet, setting it on the table beside the couch as you continue pushing the denim down. Anton finally helps by lifting his waist off the couch, his fingers pushing his pants down the rest of the way. You follow suit, finally taking your pants off and letting it join the pile of clothes.

When Anton moved to lean against the back of the couch you went to straddle him again, completely naked while he still kept his shirt on. His hands were underneath your ass, kneading the skin harsher than he ever did before. He lifts you up with ease, and brings you back down until your clit bumps against his dick. There’s already a tiny dark stain blossoming at the bottom of Anton’s shirt from the precum leaking out from his tip. You start pulling at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head so quickly it ruffles his hair.

“We never got to do this in your car.” Anton whispers it to you so low that you’re not even sure the camera would be able to pick it up. You’re becoming less and less aware of the camera recording you both, if you cared you would know that this was a terrible angle and it was barely picking up what was happening between the two of you. “Feels like the first time.” He laughs.

“It kinda is.” You look down to his lap, and you work the slimy latex of the condom he put in your hand over his dick. You never got the chance to put the condom on Anton, so you have your fun with him. You’re able to draw out a hiss from Anton and make him buck into your hand, and you’re able to make him lean his head back until he’s melting into the couch. “We get to take our time.”

Anton leans further into the couch and he’s nodding his head helplessly. He’s so different from just a few moments before when he was grabbing you roughly and leaving marks on your skin.

Like you two are desperately trying to make up for lost time you go through everything. You two are oscillating between being dominant and submissive, so quickly it’s almost confusing you both. Something tells you that you should be the dominant one tonight. That’s what your viewers are used to seeing, and technically you are the one on top. But you are at this place because of Anton, he’s the one that called you his girlfriend and meant it, and he was the one that was silently waiting for you to do what he wanted next. He was hard to figure out. He let you continue to jerk him off, letting out tiny sighs as your hand became slick from the lubricated latex.

You look down at Anton just to find that he’s already looking up at you. His eyes keep on flickering down to the mark on your chest, and for a second you think he’s going to lean forward and leave another.

“Can I touch you?” He asks the question while his hands continue to knead your ass.

You nod anyways, and instantly one of his hands is wrapping around your waist and the other is going to your clit. The sight of Anton’s hand superimposing you is intoxicating. The way he knows to apply just the right amount of pressure behind his hands makes you lose the pace you set with your own. He’s too attentive for his own good you’ve decided. When he lifts his hand up quickly to lick the tips of his fingers before going back down you’ve decided he’s dangerous. He makes you pitch forward, and when he presses a little harder you let go of his dick completely to hold the couch on either side of his head for dear life. When Anton speeds his fingers up your huffing in the crook of his neck.

“I always wanted to do this.” Anton whispers directly into your ear before kissing the shell. When you open. your mouth to reply he applies more force, causing only a strangled whimper to escape your lips. “You have no idea.”

All you could do was nod your head. You felt lost, out of breath as Anton continued working his finger on your sensitive bud. He didn’t stop even when your hand went to his wrist to try and stop his movement but he’s stronger than you. He just looks up at you and bites his lip, smirking when you struggle to keep eye contact.

“Does it feel good?” Anton laughs when he sees you can’t speak. “So good, right?”

You start reaching your hand down to grab his dick, desperately trying to convey what you need physically.

You’re grateful he gives in without you having to beg for it, because Anton finally takes his hand away from your clit to grab his dick instead. His other hand lifts you from his lap slightly, lining up at your entrance. His fat tip prods against you, and the way you already feel the burn in your legs. You were a seasoned professional, but with Anton looking up at you like you were the cutest thing in the world left you second guessing yourself.

“You gonna ride me?” Anton leans back on the couch and takes you with him, and you answer him by sinking down on him.

You sigh when you feel him push into you slowly, and when it’s down to the hilt you pull in a sharp breath. You can feel yourself pulsing around him already, and you tilt your head back when Anton moves underneath you.

“Is this for your viewers or for me?” You twist your head to the blinking red light, reminding you that you still are recording every single thing taking place. Anton follows your gaze over your shoulder, bringing you close by a hold on the back of your neck. “I’m your biggest fan, you know.”

You realize there’s no point in recording anymore, because Anton whispers everything into your ear and your body is blocking the view. The only thing the camera picks up is the wet sound of Anton bringing you down and down again on his dick. You don’t put on a show like you used to when it was just you and your toys, this is the real thing. Anton is living and breathing and warm, taking up all of you and getting you to take all of him again and again.

“I watched everything, by the way.” Anton keeps his hand wrapped around your waist, moving you back and forth on him. “You sound so different now, though.”

“No I don’t.”

You start moving your hips the same way Anton guides you, doing anything you can to take back control. He responds by changing the pace, and then bringing your chest close to his mouth again. Right next to the mark he already left he leaves another, that’s angry and even bigger than the one before.

“Yes you do.” It’s pitiful that you squeeze around Anton at the bass in his voice. He’s sincere, and then you’re on your back with Anton looming over you. “I know the sounds you make on your little streams are fake, but you’re not playing it up for me at all.”

The new position lets Anton dig deeper into you, and it lets him go faster and harder too. You’re on display for the camera now , and you’re reaching behind you to find stability in the armrest. Your sounds are unfiltered, slipping through your parted lips. You’re loud and wrecked, and Anton is right. You’ve never made sounds without thinking about them first. Nothing about this is calculated, down to the ferine way Anton is fucking you. He’s crashing his lips onto yours and you’re moaning into his mouth, just when you think you can handle it one of his hands pushes on the back of your thigh.

“See?” Anton is struggling too, his words getting pushed out with each thrust. He looks down between your two bodies where you meet. “You’re never this loud for your fake boyfriends.”

“Baby.” You whimper and he looks to you. The light from the lamp catches the sweat beading at his forehead and the flush on his cheeks. “I won’t be able to use this footage if you keep talking like that.”

Instead of pulling back, Anton smirks again. He speeds up, making your chest move and making you lose your breath again. He holds onto you tight and brings his body closer to yours, strong and solid over you.

“We’ll just have to film again then.” You scratch his back and you can’t even verbalize that you’re close. Anton’s sweaty forehead is pressed to your chest, keeping you glued together. “I got plenty more for you.”

You can’t keep it together long enough to warn Anton. You just move your hand to his head, holding him close to your chest as you cum. Anton stills for you, and you pathetically lift your hips again and again to get more stimulation. You squeeze around him and Anton just coos as you, kissing the flaming skin on your chest and telling you how cute you are even if you’re treating him like a human dildo.

He continues murmuring to you and coaxing you down from your peak until you’re spent underneath him, laying completely flat on the couch until you start melting into it yourself.

Anton’s large hand that was wrapped around your waist moves to your lower stomach instead. Feeling his hand on you causes you to twitch, and when he teasingly applies force you groan and start to writhe underneath him. He laughs at your condition, seemingly unfazed as he backs away from between your legs to sit down on the couch in front of you. The only indication that he’s as wrecked as you are is the way he takes in deep breaths, but even then he is ready while you’re still trying to regain your composure. Anton rubs your knee and smiles at how your limp leg yields to the lightest amount of force.

“I definitely won’t be able to use any of the footage.” You say. You turn your weak head to the camera and Anton follows suit. You playfully kick at his chest with your foot. “I bet the lighting was terrible. And you kept on talking to me all crazy.”

Anton’s hands go to your ankle, wrapping around it. He guides a foot to one side of your body, propping himself between your legs again.

“Well. We do have all weekend.”

#commissionz #01zfan: anton #anton smut #riize smut

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amsznn · 10 months ago

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Please I’m begging u could you write Chris x reader when reader gets wisdom teeth out. Pet names only baby

WISDOM TEETH - c.sturniolo

“todays video is gonna be a bit different guys.” chris spoke into the camera before turning it to you, revealing you leaning on the kitchen counter. “y/n’s gonna get her wisdom teeth out!” your head quickly shifted towards the mention of ‘wisdom teeth’, unfortunately being reminded of what will be your reality in a matter of moments.

“chris stop, she’s literally fearing for her life right now.” nick said while laughing. “don’t worry y/n, its not that bad.” he said while patting your shoulder.

“i dont think i wanna go anymore.” you said quickly as you remembered how much pain nick was in while he was recovering.

“it’s gonna be alright baby, we’ll be right there.” chris reassures as he wrapped his shoulder around you, still holding the camera.

it took some convincing, and maybe some bribery from your boyfriend to get you food after the procedure, to finally convince you to get in the car and go through with getting your teeth pulled out. you had been in pain for a long time, complaining about the pain the teeth were causing you.

chris knew this and knew the best thing for you was to get them out. now you all were packed in the car with matt and chris in the front, while you and nick were in the back.

occasionally chris would reach behind his chair and allow you to hold his hand for some time. he knew as you were trying to appear calm and collected, your mind was actually racing.

but that feeling would only intensify as matt pulled into the parking lot of the dentist office. you did all the regulations upon entering the building, signing in, and waiting.

before you knew it you were in the chair, about to get those teeth pulled out.

“promise, you’ll stay?” you turned over to chris, watching him with pleading eyes as he grasped your hand in his.

“promise.”

timeskip

a couple of hours passed and you were finally off of the operating table. drowsy and unaware of where you were.

“where..where am i?” you spoke. you realized there was a strange feeling in your mouth. “waths in my mouf?!” you quickly tried to take out whatever it was from your mouth before chris stopped you.

“y/n, you need those in there baby.”

confusion took over for the rest of the day as your boyfriend completed the rest of the paper work and walked you out to the car where matt and nick were waiting.

“sooo..how’d it go?” nick asked amused as he saw your state. “nick, sit in the front i wanna sit with y/n.” chris said as he opened your side of the car door. you almost face planted as you got in but nick was quick to balance you before moving to the front seat.

chris didn’t feel like filming on the way back home since he’s sure you would kill him if he ever uploaded a video of you in this state. blabbering on and on about nothing that made sense while also questioning everything and anything.

“chrissy…why are there three of you.” you pouted before poking your boyfriend’s face, the reaching to poke matt and nick’s face as well. matt swatted your hand away and scolded you since he’s driving.

“why are you yelling at me?” you frowned at matt who you thought was chris before saying, “im breaking up with you!”

chris could only laugh at your antics causing his brothers to join in as well.

“y/n that’s matt.” he softly said while caressing your shoulder.

you made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth in realization, and muttered and apology to matt for threatening him.

you all made it back home, with chris carrying you to your shared room. as soon as he set you down on the bed it was lights out for you. immediately falling asleep in your boyfriend’s bed. he smiled as he moved his face in front of yours, softly giving you a kiss on the forehead, trying not to wake you up.

“i love you, y/n.” chris whispered, to which he got a snore in response. but thats all he needed. he knew you loved him just as much.

a/n: sorry i didnt know how to end it but i hope you enjoyed!

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo x black reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic

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kyupidu · 7 months ago

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Hello!!! Can I have a yandere twisted Astro mayhaps?? :0 or just twisted Astro if youre more comfortable, headcanon or oneshot, its up to you!! Either way thank you and I hope u have a nice day/night :)

● Forever in his arms.

Yandere!Astro x toon!reader

Warnings: Yandere, Asphyxiation, Delusions, forced affection, astro is abit mean in the first half

Notes: This is my first yandere fic it might not be the best sorry! but i hope you enjoy reading! also i couldnt get the images to work so i just didnt add them..

A smile would grace your face as you finished your fourth machine, two more to go! This was your last floor till you were able to finally go back up. You snickered abit at the thought of being able to brag about how to gotten to such a high floor all by yourself AND finally being able to sleep.

Venturing off to find your second to last machine, noticing a twisted Cosmo approaching you quickly hid behind two boxes and a shelf. Sitting there for abit you peeked to see if Cosmo was gone. This caused you to fail to notice a certain sleepy twisted approaching you.

Closing your eyes and sighing thinking that the coast is clear, you twirled around just to be grabbed by the throat at slammed against the wall. Your head would hurt as you writhed trying to escape its grasp though Astro being the stronger one was unphased by your attempts.

Thrashing and kicking and yelling you grasped the hand around your neck and pulled on it hoping his grip would lighten. Your panic filled eyes would meet tearful ones, recognizing them. tears gathered in your eyes you choked out "S-Stop! Stop Astro!" you pleaded so fearful you forgot that this wasn't your friend.

Hearing this put a thought in his ichor fogged head making him remember.. something. Although he could slightly remember it. You had stopped him with a worried look in your face , although he couldn't remember anymore than that. What he did know is remembering it made him feel.. something.

He felt warm.. warm like... a hug.. -wait a hug? This thought caused a picture to finally resurface, of you hugging him. This made his hand loosen and fall to his side. You fell to the ground and scrambled to catch your breath.

As your breathing somewhat calmed you quickly got up and ran. This would cause him to come back to his senses. No.. you couldn't leave.. he loved you so much.. he yearned for you to hug him again.. he yearned.. for you, he would make sure you NEVER left. As you ran trying to find a place to hide still trying to catch your breath you failed to notice you were running toward a research capsule.

As you approached it you finally noticed it, you were too late and tripped over it. Falling to the ground, before you could even try to get back up four arms picked you up rendering you helpless. Struggling in his hold trying to get out as he turned you toward himself. You looked at him sobbing thinking that you'd never see your friends again. To him you always looked so beautiful even when your crying like this.

You looked cute crying, but he was sure you'd look even better with a grin. Using on of his hands pat your head and the other to cup your cheek and wipe away your tears. It felt so good to be in your embrace once more.

You slowly stopped trying to get out realizing that wasn't gonna work. "It's okay.. everything's okay now.." he said bringing you closer to him. It was good you stopped trying, it was always gonna be useless. No matter how much you ran he would always catch you. He hoped this meant you loved him too. You would forever be in his arms.

#dandys world x reader #dandy's world x reader #dw astro #dw astro x reader #astro x reader #Im not sure if i like this or not #constructive critism welcome #sorry for any grammar mistakes!

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 2 months ago

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Some sort of hive mind thing

Written for the Kissing Booth bonus card of the @steddiebingo

Prompt: Body Swap

Rated: T

Words: 975

Tags: POV Dustin Henderson; Body swap; Secret relationship; Coming out; Implied sexual content (very brief, very vague); Crack and humor

“Okay, the others are on their way.”

Dustin puts the walkie back on his bedside table. The alarm clock tells him it's a little after four in the morning. When he tries to tug on his hat to ground himself, he realizes he isn't wearing one because he's still in his pajamas. Biting back a yawn, he snatches his Thinking Cap from its hook on the wall and puts it on. He feels like he's going to need it.

“While we wait, walk me through this again,” he says, turning back to the two miserable figures sitting side by side on his bed. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” says Eddie.

Dustin blinks. He can practically feel his brain whirring in his skull as it recalibrates. Sweet mother of all that's logical, this must be the fourth-most bizarre thing that ever happened to him.

“Oh, wait,” says Steve. “If you say Steve shouldn’t I answer? Wouldn't want half the town to find out about this. I've barely even shaken the satanist allegations. Better not add body snatching to the list.”

“The fuck?” Eddie hisses. “First you steal my body and now you're taking my name, too?”

Steve grins, wide and toothy, fluttering his lashes exaggeratedly. “Let's table the discussion about who's taking whose name for later, big boy. We've more important stuff to figure out right now.”

Okay, make that the third-most bizarre thing.

“You both went to bed as usual,” Dustin says over the ensuing string of bickering, wondering not for the first time who's babysitting who here. “Then, a few hours later, you woke up to discover that you're stuck in each other's bodies.”

Eddie-who-looks-like-Steve snorts a laugh and Steve-who-looks-like-Eddie elbows him.

“Quit it! Be serious about this!”

“I’m trying to, but he said stuck in-”

“Did anything happen last night?” Dustin asks.

They both flinch. Eddie attempts to pull a lock of hair in front of his face but grasps at thin air.

“Did anything- … I have no idea what you- … Nothing happened! Nothing at all!”

Dustin raises an eyebrow at him. Eddie starts chewing on Steve’s knuckles.

“Really? You sure? Nothing strange or out of the ordinary? I need you to think real hard about this, it could be important.”

Steve shrugs, raking a hand through Eddie’s hair and frowning when his fingers get stuck in the frizzy mess. “Dunno, man. Our life's pretty much an endless string of freak incidents, so it's kind of hard to say what qualifies as- Gross, dude, stop chewing on my nails.”

“It helps with my anxiety, and you have mine,” Eddie grumbles, but he still stops chewing.

“Which is why it's crucial,” Dustin shoulders on, “to look for patterns. There must've been something that caused this, and there must be a reason why it happened to the two of you. Oh, you think it has to do with the bats? You're the only ones who got bitten, so maybe that's the connection. Maybe it's some sort of hive mind thing.”

He has started pacing up and down in front of the bed, but at the corner of his vision, he can see how Steve squints Eddie’s dark brown eyes at him.

“But that was months ago,” he says. He’s still wearing Eddie’s rings, Dustin notices. Eddie has pulled their hands into his lap and started fiddling with them, muttering something about how they won't fit Steve’s stupid, giant saucer hands. “Why would it happen now?”

Dustin snaps his fingers. “Something must've triggered it. There must've been some kind of dormant connection the entire time, and one or both of you must've done something to activate it.”

He stops pacing and turns to them, only to find they’re not looking at him anymore. Instead, they’ve ducked their heads together and started muttering among themselves in hushed voices. Dustin catches the words oughta tell him, and wrinkles his brow.

“Tell me what?”

“Okay!” Steve screws Eddie’s eyes shut and pinches Eddie’s nose. “You know how you asked me to drive you to the arcade last night?”

“And you told me no because you had this big, important date?” Dustin rolls his eyes. “Sure. What about it?”

“And how you called me after?” Eddie says. He has started pulling on the ends of Steve’s hair now, and it seems to be getting frizzier by the second. It looks a bit like regular Steve put his fingers in a socket. “And I said I’d love to chauffeur you, but I couldn’t because I had already made plans?”

“Yes,” Dustin deadpans. “You were both completely and utterly unhelpful and I had to cycle all the way there in the dark and the wind, thank you for reminding me. Now what does this have to do with any-”

“Dustin,” says Steve. He looks at Eddie, then down at their entwined hands. Pointedly. Dustin feels his jaw drop.

“Oh,” he says. “You mean you were- … You both couldn’t make it because you were each other’s- … Oh! Oh my God, please don’t tell me- … Were you two making out?”

Silence drops. Somewhere outside, bicycle tires crunch on gravel, heralding the arrival of the Party.

“Sure,” says Eddie. “Let’s call it making out.”

Dustin groans, turning to open his window.

“Let’s try to keep this between the three of us,” he hisses. “The others don’t need to know this.”

“What?” Steve grumbles. He’s always blushed easily, but now, with his newly acquired pale complexion, he looks like an Eddie-shaped lava lamp. “These kids have dealt with interdimensional monsters and telepathic wizards, you’d think they’d be able to stomach two guys kissing.”

“That’s not it,” Dustin says, and now it’s his turn to break into a smug grin. “But Max bet me twenty bucks you wouldn’t last until Christmas, and I'm broke, so I'd appreciate it if she wouldn't find out just yet.”

More Steddie bingo

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's steddie bingo #steddiebingo #steddiebingokiss

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blackleatherjacketz · 1 year ago

Text

All Better

Eric Northman x Female Reader

Summary: You miss a meeting because you're sick, and Eric makes a house call to make you feel better.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Eric being Eric, Strep Throat, Antibiotics, Shoving, Blaming, Kissing, Glamoring, Hypnotizing, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Healing Vampire Blood, Blood Drinking, Biting, Vampirism, Nipple Play, Licking, Cunnilingus, Female Orgasm

Read more Eric!

“You don’t look very good.” Eric states the obvious as his brows knit together in a look of, wait a minute, is that… concern that you’re seeing on his face? It must be the medication you’re on that’s blurring your vision and dulling your senses, because you’re pretty sure that ‘concern’ isn’t in Eric Northman’s emotional repertoire. “What’s wrong with you?”

It isn’t until he pushes you up against the wall, staring at your pale face as beads of sweat run down your temples that he understands why you didn’t show up to Fangtasia tonight or bother answering your phone when he called. The realization of your illness slowly melts that concerned look of his into a stoic expression of understanding, allowing his pupils to expand just the slightest bit before his lips part in silence.

“I’m just sick, it’s nothing.” You try to look away from him, tempted to fall back into your old habit of isolating yourself when falling ill, only he grabs hold of your chin to prevent that from happening.

“Sick, how?” That sense of understanding gets washed away in a flash, his brief display of genuine emotion quickly covered up by his usual curt and cutting tone.

“It’s just an infection, I know I should have called, I just didn’t think you’d…”

“Didn’t think I’d what?” He tightens his grip on your chin, bringing his face closer to yours. “Didn’t think I’d notice that my favorite human wasn’t there to greet me tonight?”

Favorite human? Did you hear that right? You can’t help but raise your eyebrows in surprise as he admits it out loud, albeit through gritted teeth.

“I was too weak to drive out there, I…” You mutter as his cool grip on your face chills you even more, forcing your body to shiver in its febrile state.

“Then let me heal you.” He offers, his eyes scanning over your shaking form before he brings his wrist up to his mouth.

“What?” Your arrangement with Eric has always been very simple; you show up once a week to let him feed on you and he pays you enough money to cover your mortgage each month. It had never been more than that though, never crossed any other carnal line despite your secret desire for more intimacy with him. He had never once offered you his own blood before, and the idea of it still kind of scares you, if you’re being honest with yourself. “Heal me?”

“So you won’t be sick anymore.” He loosens his grip on your face, his hand falling loosely around your neck.

“I’m on antibiotics, Eric, I don’t need your blood.” You attempt to walk away from him but he places his palm flat across your chest, forcing you back into position against the wall. Even his restrained amount of strength is too much for your weakened muscles to withstand as you wince in pain.

“Let me heal you.” He stares into your eyes, accessing your subconscious mind as you can’t help but stare right back, too tired to put up any sort of emotional barrier between the two of you. You’ve seen him do this to others before, convincing them to do whatever he wanted, whether that be to pay him back, run away or even kill someone for him. You just never thought he’d do it to you.

“Okay,” You hear yourself whisper almost immediately before taking his hand and leading him to the couch at the far end of your living room. You watch him sit down as if he’s already been there dozens of times before, as if he’s lived there with you already, as if he owns the place. You feel him pull you onto his lap, guiding your hips and thighs so that you’re now straddling him in the middle of your couch as his hands carefully smooth their way up your back.

“You’re shivering.” He grins as you settle into him, your pelvis slowly rocking against his hips as his hands find their way into your hair. “I can fix that.”

“Yeah?” As scary as the idea of drinking his blood is, the thought of letting this feverish hell continue any longer seems way worse.

“Let me take care of you.” Eric fumbles through the random items on the side table closest to him until he finds something sharp at his disposal: a ball point pen. He pushes the cap off with his thumb, smiles up at you before jabbing the pen into his neck so quickly, you barely have a chance to register what’s happening before he pulls you in closer. “Now, drink.”

You gasp as your heart races in a confused sense of horror, watching droplets of his blood ooze out of his wound and down the porcelain skin of his neck. Your lips begin to tremble as his fingers weave their way into your hair, pushing your mouth in closer to his throat as you attempt to fight your body’s natural panic response.

“Drink.” He instructs again, only this time more sternly.

Having no other choice but to do as you’re told, you open your mouth and lick the droplets of blood from his neck as he continues to hold you in place. It tastes a little better than you thought it would, a sort of salty mixture with hints of iron and blackberry wine that leaves a surprisingly pleasant aftertaste on the back of your tongue. Kind of like a rich Cabernet.

Well, that’s not so bad, now is it?

You open up again and start down at his clavicle this time, making sure to clean up any remnants of the fluid until you get all the way up to the puncture site, greedily suckling straight from the source. You can hear him moan as you lap him up, feel his grip on your hair tighten as you consume him, getting lost in the closeness of your bodies and the binding of your fluids. You’re sure that he can hear your heart beating wildly inside your chest, thumping hard against his as you wrap your arms around his torso to get even closer to him. You can feel his blood working inside you, healing you on a cellular level; each vampiric red blood cell eradicating any bacteria into oblivion as the weakness leaves your muscles and the pain dissipates from your throat.

“Enough,” he whispers reluctantly, now having to pull your mouth off him. “That’s enough, sweetheart.”

His words barely bring you out of your trance, his salty flesh no longer beneath your tongue as he tugs on your scalp to get you to finally stop drinking. It’s almost as if you’ve been brought back to reality after having one of the most intense dreams you’ve ever had as you watch his wound heal just as quickly as he had made it. You’ll never get used to that.

“It worked.” You exclaim gratefully. “I feel better!”

“I told you.” Eric grins as he runs his thumb across your bottom lip, reminding you that you’ve made quite the mess of yourself. “This is why you have to let me take care of you.”

“I’m not very good at that.” You’ve always had to take care of yourself in the past. One lesson that life has taught you time and time again is that the second you start depending on someone is the very moment that you’ll be disappointed.

“I know, but you have to let me do it anyway.” His eyelids drop halfway down as he looks at you longingly, gazing upon you in a way that you’ve never noticed before.

Maybe it’s that look, or maybe it’s the high of his blood now coursing through your veins that makes you suddenly feel compelled to press your lips against his, letting that vampiric confidence guide your actions. You keep them there for a few seconds, realizing that he isn’t pulling away from you, but instead is kissing you back with just as much enthusiasm as he pulls tighter on your scalp.

You’ve always wanted to kiss him, from the very first moment that you saw him. But something about him told you that he had women throwing themselves at his feet left and right; and you didn’t want to be like one of them. You were just grateful for the little contact you got when he fed upon you each week. You relished every caress of your cheek, every squeeze of your waist that sent shivers down your spine before he ended up drinking his fill. You never thought that he’d be interested in you like this, that he’d actually want you in that type of way at all.

However, his tongue now parts your lips as his kiss intensifies, all but moaning the truth into your mouth as if he’s been waiting just as long to finally taste your lips. His kiss is desperate and sloppy, so different from the perfectly put together business man you first met that night at the bar. His composure casually crumbles to pieces as his hands travel all over your body, frantically grasping onto your muscles until they find themselves in your hair again, his lips curling into a deviously satisfied smirk.

You feel him grow beneath his jeans, his clothed member now brushing against the thin fabric of your underwear as his hips needily writhe against your junction. His deliberate movements trigger that moisture to collect between your thighs as he continues his rhythm upward with several shallow breaths. Now stained in his own blood, his mouth ventures over every inch of your lips and chin before moving down to your jawline, licking a trail alongside your pulse.

You whimper in response, grinding your needy center against him as you brace yourself for the bite that never comes. Instead he lifts your shirt up over your head, exposing your bare breasts to the cool temperature of the room as your nipples harden in front of his face.

“You’ve been holding out on me.” He teases, letting go of the rest of you so he can graze his palms across them, sending a much more intense tingling sensation down your spine.

“I didn’t know that you wanted to…” Your breath hitches as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard before wrapping his arms behind you and turning you on your back. He keeps contact with your skin the entire time, pulling on your sensitive tissue as he looks up at you with those eyes again, dragging your tender bud in between his teeth.

“Really?” He laughs with a smirk. He moves on to the next one before popping it into his mouth while pinching the other, sending a barrage of little fireworks into your skin. “You think I make feeding contracts lightly?”

“No, I uhh…” Your back arches toward the ceiling as he sucks bursts of delight into your tissues, humming a sweet vibration against your skin as you all but melt beneath him. Pleasure being the last sensation you expect to get from Eric’s mouth, you can’t help but feel a little breathless as his fingers simultaneously tug your underwear down your hips as they instinctively lift off the couch cushion to aid in their removal. “It’s hard for me to tell sometimes.”

“You thought I didn’t want you?” He licks a languid path down your quaking abdomen as your muscles contract in hurried anticipation, beads of sweat popping up in his wake. He circles around your navel with his tongue, kissing a hungry trail down your pelvis while his hands help slide your panties off your calves and feet. He smiles and spreads your thighs as far apart as they can go, straining your muscles as he stares at you like a jungle cat would its prey before it pounces. “Looks like I could be a better communicator.”

His fangs drop and his eyes darken, wasting no time in settling between your thighs to take the bite you were wondering would ever come at all. Instead of sinking his fangs into your femoral artery to get the most blood in the least amount of time, though, he bites you just above your swollen center. He laughs as you yelp from the piercing pain, letting that red hot fluid spill down your already dripping wet seam before he dives in to finally taste it.

That cold, blood-thirsty vampire that you’ve known for the past few weeks finally comes out as he starts licking streaks of crimson up and down your puffy lips, spreading the blood and gore into your folds as his tongue delivers that tantalizing balance of pain and pleasure that you’ve only read about in books. He growls like the creature of the night that he is as he devours you, snaking his arms beneath your thighs to pull you in even closer as his mouth delves into your flesh. Unable to be sated, he flicks his tongue up and down your sensitive clit, sending signals of ecstasy up through your spine and into your brain as your eyes flutter with visions of shapes and colors you never knew existed.

Maybe it’s the vampire blood pumping through your veins for the very first time, or maybe it’s Eric’s skilled mouth that forces your eyes to roll back into your head. The way he keeps eating and drinking makes it feel as if each and every tiny hair on your skin is now alive, standing on end waiting for him to touch them, to give them permission to explode until your entire body begins to shake. You reach out for him in vain as the otherworldly sense of euphoria washes over you, forcing every muscle in your body to convulse in rhythmic waves as he relentlessly drinks from your bloody cunt. He glances up at you only to grin as your skin changes color, warming and cooling in phases as your orgasm violently works its way through your skin and bones and finally out of your mouth.

“Eric!” You cry out as he finally pulls back from you, licking his lips as you rattle and hum in the crimson mess he’s made of you. “Oh my God, Eric!”

“See?” He smirks as he watches you come down from your hormonal high, running your hands through his hair as he finally gives your bloody center one last lick. “All better.”

#eric northman #alexander skarsgard #true blood #eric northman smut #eric northman fanfiction #eric northman x reader #eric northman fanfic #vampires #vampire

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milla-frenchy · 9 months ago

Text

Hold my hand

4k1 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: a stranger saves your life. Or your and Javi’s love story Warnings: 18+ mdni. soft!Javi, alternating pov, fingering, Javi can lift reader, size kink, oral (f/m), piv, creampie. No age specified.

a/n: this is written for PPCU Body Worship writing challenge, hosted by @joelmillerisapunk 😘🫶 I got Javi and hands 😍

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

You were walking towards the beach, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your bare legs and arms. Once arrived, you laid your beach towel on the sand, took off your shorts and a tank top, and put on some sunscreen. Then you dipped your feet in the water. Its temperature was perfect. You walked along the shore for a few minutes and looked at the few surfers and swimmers.

You couldn’t resist the idea of swimming and you moved towards the open sea. You let it slightly cool your thighs, then your stomach. You dove under a wave, enjoying the coolness of the water. You swam a few breaststrokes, and let yourself be carried on your back between each wave for a few minutes.

When you looked back towards the shore, you noticed that the current had carried you much further than you thought. You were a good swimmer and didn't worry, starting to crawl towards the beach.

But a wave you didn't see coming washed over you. You swallowed a mouthful of water, just before another one broke on you. You realized that you were in deep water, even farther away than before, and a third wave took you by surprise, leaving you breathless.

The current was still pulling you further away and you started to worry.

Each of your other attempts to reach the shore was a failure, and the worry turned into panic. It overwhelmed you. You knew that you had to stay calm, but you couldn't think straight anymore.

Another wave swept you away and a full panic, nagging, tightening your stomach, was overtaking your brain.

You looked around. A few surfers were on their boards, unaware of what was happening a few feet away from them. When another wave swept you back with it, you felt helpless. Seeing the shore even further away.

“You ok?”

You turned towards the voice just before another wave hit you. A hand grabbed yours and pulled you back up to the surface. The man was facing you, worried.

“I… I can't go back,” you answered, trying to blink back the tears that were gathering in your eyes.

“I'm gonna help you. Don’t worry, everything's gonna be ok.”

You nodded, holding onto his hand.

“A wave is coming, we’ll use it to get closer to the shore. When I tell you, kick your feet, okay?”

“Okay,” you stammered.

“Now!”

You did as he told you, and when you looked up at the shore, it was a little closer.

“Another wave, it's gonna crash on us. It's just foam, okay? I’ll hold your hand. Take a deep breath, now!”

You took a quick breath before the wave hit you. Clinging to his firm hand.

“Please don't let go of me. Don't let go of me,” you pleaded after his firm grip pulled you back to the surface.

“I won't, trust me. We'll get to the shore in a few minutes.”

“But the last wave pushed us away!” You didn't mean to yell but your panic was too strong.

The man, on the other hand, remained calm. There was no fear in him, as if he was used to handling potentially complicated situations.

“I know, but another wave is coming - a good one - and we’re gonna use it to move forward. Swim!”

You followed his instructions with each wave, good or bad, holding his hand tightly. His hand never shook, never let go of you, and that silenced your apprehension.

And you finally reached the shore.

“We made it, see? You did great and you're ok. I'm Javi, what's your name?”

He was looking at you, slightly worried as he was waiting for your reaction. You knew he was talking to you to bring you back to the reality: you were safe.

You gave him your name, still choking, exhausted from the effort.

“I’m glad to meet you. Everything's ok. Where are your things?”

You showed him and he accompanied you there, without letting go of your shaking hand.

“Here. How are you?”

“I'm… I'm…”

You were holding back your tears, realizing that without him you would still be struggling in the sea, or worse.

“Thank you, Javi. I’m… I think you saved my life.”

“I just helped you a little, you needed reassurance. It’s easy to panic in these situations.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Do you need me to stay with you for a few minutes, or are you ok?”

You assured him that you were fine. He smiled at you and waved, before walking away. You lay down on your towel, catching your breath, and watched him walk over to his towel and drink some water before going back into the sea. You turned to the other side and the tears that you’d been holding back finally fell.

Once you calmed down, you sat up and looked at the man’s things. You grabbed a paper and a pen from your bag.

“I didn’t get to thank you properly. Here’s my number. I’d be happy to take you out to dinner, if that’s okay with you.”

You put the paper under his sunscreen and left.

Several days passed when he finally called you. You already thought he wouldn’t reach out to you. He thanked you but told you that the invitation was unnecessary, that the help he had given you was completely normal. You insisted kindly, and a meeting at a restaurant was arranged for the next evening.

When you arrived, he was already there, waiting for you in front of the restaurant, dark glasses on and a cigarette between his lips. You realized that you hadn't even looked at him well, given the events. He was breathtakingly handsome- brown hair, clean-shaven face except for his mustache. He was dressed in black and his clothes fitted him perfectly. He was gorgeous.

You got out of your car and joined him.

The dinner went by without any awkward silence or discomfort. You told him about your job, and he told you that he used to work for the government in Colombia, but had now moved back to Texas. He seemed like a confident man, not too emotional but caring. You tried not to stare at him too much not to seem creepy but his beautiful face hypnotized you. Your gaze sometimes rested for a few moments on his large, veiny hands. So masculine. Those hands that had supported you in the sea.

“Have you gone swimming since that day?”

You looked down before admitting that you were slightly scared.

“You should go back. To not let that worry set in.” Sensing your uncertainty, he added, “I can go with you if you want. So that you could regain your confidence.”

You agreed to meet at the beach the next morning, before each leaving in your own car.

You met up the next day as planned, and at first you didn't even think about the sea. You got chills seeing him in his swimsuit. He had a slim waist, broad shoulders, and a body of a Greek statue.

“You ready?” he asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“Will you go with me? Just in case”, you murmured. Your fear of swimming again was slowly taking over you.

“Of course. I won’t let you handle this alone, Hermosa.”

Your mind was telling you that maybe the nickname wasn't special. But the butterflies in your stomach didn't hear it that way.

Damn, you were down bad for him, and you barely knew anything about him.

“You coming?” he asked, already in the water, looking at you as you stood frozen on the sand.

“Yeah! Yeah, sure”, you replied, following him to the shore.

Javi hesitated for several days to call you, after seeing your note. When he saw you struggling in the sea, it awakened his protective instincts. He couldn’t help himself with them.

During dinner at the restaurant, of course he saw the way you looked at him, even if you tried to hide it. He was trained to sense emotions, feelings. And he didn’t want to let yours settle. You weren’t some hooker he would fuck in exchange for information, or to release pressure. He had never wanted to break hearts, even if he was used to it happening. He knew the effect he had on women. As soon as you walked out of your car, he already knew what you felt.

The way your hand had latched onto his in the sea, the way your beautiful eyes were staring at him in the restaurant, brought out emotions he had been pushing away for a long time. And he didn’t want to feel those emotions. Not that time, when he had only recently left Colombia, and when he was longing for a normal life. But a voice in his head kept telling him that that was a normal life. Spending time with someone, no matter what happened next. And right now, he was trying to resist that voice. Even though his flirtatious side couldn't help but come out when he called you that nickname. He felt the way your body reacted. It made his cock twitch in his swimsuit. Luckily, you were too focused on his lips to notice. So he walked towards the sea, counting on its coolness to refresh him. And his cock.

When you reached him, he was already waist-deep in the water. He was walking so fast from the beach that you wondered if he was even waiting for you.

“It’s a perfect day to go swimming again. There aren’t too many waves, it will allow you to get back to your usual sensations. Shall we?”

You nodded, and you swam for a few moments, moving a little away from the shore. You felt safe with Javi by your side. Until a wave bigger than the others formed.

“Javi!!” you called, voice worried.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Stay calm, you’re gonna do it.”

You took a deep breath and dove under the wave, as you had done hundreds of times before that cursed day. When you came out of the water, you met his worried gaze, waiting to see if you were okay. And you were. He smiled, and you spent a long time swimming in the sea. Your fear was gone, thanks to him.

You went to have a drink at a bar next to the beach. It was Javi who had suggested it, and you were delighted. You were still at the bar when he took your hand in his and complimented your nails. You were under his spell, and you felt yourself blush like a teenager.

You saw each other every day after that. Spending more and more time together. He smiled and laughed regularly now, opening up to you.

One evening, you went to the movies. You were scooping popcorn out of the same bucket, and sometimes your fingers would brush against each other. He needed to feel you more, and couldn't wait any longer—he brushed your arm with his hand, and you looked at each other. The intensity of his gaze was so strong that you could barely hold it.

“Do you wanna come to my place after the movie, Hermosa?”

You nodded. But you two didn't wait any longer and left for his place in a minute.

He grabbed your hand as you were walking to his car, and his lips crashed against yours, his hands tightening around your waist. Your tongues brushed against each other as his hands were already roaming your body. Everything about him exuded sensuality. He was like a wild animal. A thirsty, hungry, agile feline, having captured his prey that just wanted to be devoured. You finally made it to the car, and luckily his apartment wasn’t far away. You kissed whenever the traffic allowed, and your fingers had already run through his hair more times than you could count on two hands. You were glued to each other until you walked through the door of his apartment. You wondered if Javi would be the love of your life or the one who would break your heart into a thousand pieces. But right now you didn’t care, only that moment mattered. Those feelings that he made you feel. You wanted his hands all over your body, and you probably had wished for it since the first time he grabbed yours, in the sea.

When you entered the dining room and he pressed your ass against the table, you were both breathless. The clothes you had gradually taken off littered the floor of his apartment. You were only wearing your panties, and Javi still had his jeans on. One of his arms was around your waist, keeping you tight against him, and he squeezed a breast with his other hand, before taking it in his mouth, sucking and licking your nipple. Your fingers ran through his hair until you took his hands in yours, eager to touch them in different circumstances, and you kissed the tips of his fingers. He looked at you, eyes fixed on your lips that were placing small kisses on his skin. Keeping his hands in yours, you lowered one of them to your crotch. Sliding his fingers along your folds still covered by your panties.

“You’re so hot, baby”, he murmured. He smelled of tobacco and mint, and you were intoxicated by his scent.

You kept brushing your folds and your swollen clit with his fingers. He let you do it, as if he liked not being in charge. You could hear his breathing quicken, his jerky heartbeat against yours. You grabbed the hem of your panties and pulled them down to mid-thigh.

“I think I fell in love with your hands that day. Wanna feel them in me”, you whispered into his ear. With your underwear still around your thighs, you took his hand in yours again, slid it down to your pussy, and stroked yourself with his fingers. Running them over your soaked parts. You moaned against his chest before pushing them further into you. You used his digits to finger yourself, and it was perhaps the most sensual thing you had ever done.

Your fingers pressed to his, he kept fucking you slowly and you rubbed your clit with your thumb.

“I’m… I’m gonna come, Javi.”

He placed his other hand against the back of your neck, holding you tight, and you came on his fingers. Panting, you let your forehead rest against his shoulder, catching your breath while his hand was caressing your hair.

“Came so hard for me, baby…”

He brushed and breathed in your hair, holding you close. You didn’t expect him to be so gentle, so patient. You knew nothing about his past, his love life, but when you had seen him in front of that restaurant, so sure of himself, so handsome, you had imagined someone else. A womanizer, maybe.

You hastily removed your panties, just in time for him to lift you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. He grabbed your ass with his hands to hold you up and kissed you. You couldn’t get enough of running your fingers through his hair while you were kissing his luscious, warm lips. His mustache was soft against your skin.

He carried you to his bedroom, as unknown sensations were running through his mind.

Javi wasn’t the one to fall in love. His life was always dedicated to his job. It was dangerous in Colombia and he didn't want to involve someone in it.

So he fucked women he met in bars. Women that fell for him, the second their eyes were laid on him. He would bring them home, he wouldn’t have gone to the movies with them. There would have been no seduction game.

He fucked hookers regularly, too. His informants. He cared about them and offered them protection as much as possible. But he didn’t love them.

But since he had met you (saved you) on that beach, since he had seen your eyes filled with tears, since he had gotten to know you, his heart was beating in a way it had never done before. Even for his ex fiancee. He had not yet thrust into you and he already dreamed of waking up against you. He didn’t know what was happening but this bliss intoxicated him. He felt himself melting at your touch and he yearned for more. For the first time, he could offer his protection to someone who was not related to his job. Someone who wasn’t in danger of being hurt or murdered by sicarios. Someone for whom he wasn’t a client. Now that life was behind him, and his heart was craving something else. Proximity. Sharing everything he had to offer with someone.

With you.

He lowered you, next to his bed. Your eyes met and your sweetness made him melt again. He brushed your cheek tenderly.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve seen the worst in my job. The darkest possible things. One day I’ll try to tell you about it. And the way you’re looking at me right now… it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The sweetest, and I feel like I’m seeing something bright for the first time, finally. And I needed it.”

His confession took your breath away. You felt deep down that he was sincere. He wasn’t playing a perverted game to lure you into his bed. It was stronger than that, and it was overwhelming.

“I need…”

“What do you need, Hermosa?”

“Need to feel you… need you inside me.”

“Not yet, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Why would you hurt me?”

He unzipped his jeans, and your eyes didn't know where to look. His face, his shoulders, his chest. His body was beautiful. He pulled down his jeans, he wasn't wearing anything underneath. Your eyes landed on his cock, and your mouth turned into an O. You were unable to make a sound.

“Do you trust me, baby?” he asked, taking off his pants completely.

“I… Yeah, of course.”

“Let me get you ready, okay? Lie down on the bed. I’ll go slow.”

You did what he said and bent your knees. He settled between your thighs, and his face just above your pussy was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life.

His thumb ran over your wet, soaked folds.

“I wanna taste you. Wanna feel you shake.”

He licked your cunt up and down, in one long stripe, and growled. Your taste, your scent was driving him crazy.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You taste so good.”

He wanted to make you come on his fingers and his tongue, and never stop eating you. He wanted to feel you around his cock. He wanted it all, and he felt like his heart was going to explode.

He kissed your clit, then placed his lips around it. Sucking it lightly before swirling it under his tongue, and you curled your toes instantly.

He pushed one finger, then two, into your dripping pussy. Your fingers gripped his temples then his hair, and he was crazy about the feeling, about you expressing need and eagerness. He was listening to your moans, which were getting louder and louder. Feeding on them. He felt that you were going to come again soon, that you would be ready to take him. His cock kept throbbing, the precum flowing down his cock. He was used to preparing pussies before fucking them. He sometimes did it mechanically. But not today, not with you. His 5 senses were alert and fully focused on you, until your hands clenched his hair and you pulsed on his tongue. Your walls squeezed his fingers while you sang his name, and it was the most beautiful music he had ever heard.

He placed one last kiss on your clit, softly, watching you come down from your high. His eyes just above your heaving stomach, and his fingers still buried inside you.

You sat up, and said “lemme taste you, Javi. I want to feel you on my tongue, please, baby.”

Your voice was a melody to his ears. The way you said “baby” could have been enough to make him come in the sheets.

“Fuck… ok baby, ok.”

He lay down and you knelt down next to him, marveling at his gorgeous, tan cock. The tip was oozing. You licked his slit softly, impregnating your throat with his taste, before taking his tip in your mouth and sucking it gently. Your fist clenched on his shaft, your head bobbing, your lips completely spread around his cock. Eager to give him as much pleasure as he had given you. Your thumb brushed his balls before you licked them. Sucking his soft and fine skin.

“Damn, Hermosa… Fuck, that’s good, baby. So good.”

His praise made your pussy drip while you kept sucking, lapping at his balls, his shaft, his tip. You couldn't help but crawl up to his lips to kiss them before taking him back in your mouth, until he begged you to stop.

“Wait, baby please. I wanna feel you around me. Wanna see how beautiful you are, all spread out for me.”

You kissed his stomach, licked his nipples, and spread kisses on his collarbone, then his lips. He gently manhandled you to lie down under him. His hands cupped your cheeks and you kissed, the taste of him and you mixing between your lips. His body weighed down perfectly on yours. He grabbed his cock and nestled it at your entrance, making you moan. You bucked your hips forward, eager to finally feel him inside you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight… So tight for me,” he said as he pushed in slightly. Your walls parted for him as he buried his head into the pillow, his breath hitching in the crook of your neck.

“Wanna feel you, Javi. All of you.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you… I need to go slow.”

“It’s ok, I swear. Thrust in, please. I need to feel you, all of you in me.”

He pushed in, just like you wanted him to. The effect made you bite your lip, your pleasure overflowing throughout your being.

“Oh my god, Javi… you're so big, you feel so good…” He kissed your forehead, then rubbed his aquiline nose against yours before placing his lips on yours. It was the most intimate sex you had ever experienced. More intimate than any you had experienced with previous boyfriends. He was thrusting softly, slow and deep strokes without taking his eyes off you.

“You look so good beneath me,” he murmured.

His hand slid between you and he brushed your clit, amplifying your moans.

“Javi… so thick…”

“I know baby, I know. It's a lot.”

“Yeah, yeah… too… too much.”

“Too much? You want me to stop?” he asked, looking at you, a little worried.

“No! No, too much sensation but I love it. Don't stop, please, I wanna feel them all.”

“Damn, baby, I… I wanna feel you come on my cock. Can you do that for me? Squeeze my cock with your tight, little pussy?”

“Fuck… yeah… yeah keep going. I’m gonna come… oh fuck!!”

Your walls squeezed his shaft so tightly when you came for the third time, that he whimpered.

“Where?” he asked, almost out of breath.

“Inside, inside…” you replied, still shaking.

Your face in his hands, he didn’t stop watching you, thrusting in as slowly until he spilled his cum in your pussy, rope after rope. He lay against you and turned you towards him, his soothed cock resting against his thigh, his cum leaking out of your pussy.

He always thought that you got better with time when you have sex with someone. He wondered how it could get better with you.

He held you close, your face against his chest, his hand on the back of your neck and the other on your lower back. He knew that you needed him to protect you, and he had a lot of protection to offer.

“Keep your hands on me, Javi, please,” you whispered before falling asleep.

No, Javi hadn’t fallen in love. Ever.

Until the day his hand caught yours in the sea and you taught him another way to take care of someone.

And he had never felt so free in his life, so peaceful. After years of daily angst and darkness, his heart finally felt lighter in his chest.

Thank you for reading 🙏

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439 notes · View notes

tinylilacbun · 3 months ago

Note

I feel like the whole kidnapping situation would give reader so much stress in the first few weeks that her little side would sometimes slip out, even tho she tries to repress. She would whimper and try to suck her thumb as a self soothing habit almost unintentionally, and everytime jj tries to gain her trust and replace her thumb with his, she would slap his hand or jerk away. But as the months go by and the "trust" comes, he would be the one cuddling her and giving her his thumb (even at the times he's the reason she's sad, because he's manipulative like that)

You're trying so, so hard to keep your composure. It's been days or even weeks, you don't even know anymore, having completely lost a sense of time in this cramped bedroom, at least you know when it's day or night thanks to the windows that are sealed shut.

Your mind has been screaming at you to regress, to get a break from the constant stress you're being faced with but keep telling yourself that you can handle this, that you'll find a way out and everything will be over.

JJ makes sure you're always confronted with your little space to give you no choice but to regress at some points, just like the pacifier that's laying on the nightstand that you don't dare to touch and give him the satisfaction that he's getting to you.

Or the plushie that you keep throwing across the room whenever he places it back beside you, and the only source of warmth is the colorful blanket with tiny bunnies printed on it.

As the time passes by JJ checks up on you more often during the day, not just to give you food water, or taking you to the bathroom when needed, because your resolve begins to crumble the more he's being gentle with you.

You're so in your head that you don't even notice when your thumb makes its way into your mouth, closing your eyes as you soothe yourself and try to blend out the way the handcuff on your left wrists that's attached to the headboard digs into your skin.

You don't even flinch when you feel the bed dip, only opening your eyes as you feel a hand running through your hair, seeing JJ sitting beside you with a soft smile on his face.

Your body doesn't even tense up as it used to whenever he is near, you even start to appreciate the little bits of affection he gives you.

You've made so much progress without even realizing, not flinching away or talking back to him as you did at the start.

You're completely overwhelmed with everything lately, not understanding what's going on in your head, why you can't bring yourself to claw at his face or keep fighting his every attempt of being close to you.

The tears start to slip before you can stop them, sniffling into the pillow as you sink into that familiar floaty feeling you always have whenever you regress.

You don't even resist when JJ moves to lay down beside you, carefully manoeuvring you to cradle you in his arms, covering you with your blanket as you quietly weep into his shirt.

"Sh, I know, it's okay. Papa's got you." He murmurs, his chin resting on top of your head as he rocks you back and forth gently.

Papa. He keeps addressing himself with that title. You don't even know his real name, he never mentioned it or found it necessary to tell you since he'll only be papa to you, nothing else.

JJ's has waited so long to get you to this point, to make you crave his comfort, the way he assures you that you don't have to worry about anything anymore, that he'll always be there to protect.

He slowly grabs your wrist to pull your thumb out of your mouth, quickly replacing it with his before you could protest, breathing out when you seem to accept it and nuzzle more into his body warmth.

"There we go. You're all good, little bun." He hums, reaching into his pocket with his free hand to get out a set of keys, carefully unlocking the cuff around your wrist for the first time in weeks, tracing the red mark before wrapping his arm around you again.

He presses a kiss against your hairline, getting a little more comfortable on the bed with you cuddled against him, tucking the lovey - that he stole from your house just before he kidnapped you - into your arms, smiling when you instinctively hug it closer to your chest. "Things will get better, you'll see. As long as you behave we could have it real nice."

#chasing shadow au #stalker!jj drabble #little!reader

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majinael · 4 months ago

Text

You’re not going anywhere.

Michael Kaiser and I met during the final years of my high school. From the moment I laid eyes on him, I was captivated. I became his biggest supporter, his unwavering believer. In time, he fell for me too, even if it took him longer to realize it.

But as we grew together, doubts began to creep in. I found myself wondering if he saw a future with me. He never spoke about moving in, marriage, or anything remotely long-term. At first, I dismissed it, thinking it was normal for someone who struggled with emotions, especially romantic ones. But as time passed, I started confiding in my closest friends. Listening to them talk about their partners planning apartments and futures together, I couldn’t ignore the sharp sting of jealousy.

That night, I sat alone on the couch in his dimly lit room, wrestling with my thoughts. Should I bring it up? Or bury it like I always had?

The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled me from my reverie. Michael stepped out, fresh from the shower, a towel slung carelessly over his neck. He glanced at me, sensing the tension in the air immediately.

“You’re quiet,” he observed, slipping into a pair of shorts.

I sighed, avoiding his gaze.

He crouched in front of me, resting a hand on the edge of the couch to meet my eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

I muttered a weak, “Nothing.”

He didn’t buy it.

“Bullshit. Tell me.”

I slid past him, standing up and putting distance between us.

“I feel like…” I hesitated, then took a steadying breath. “I feel like you’re not taking this relationship seriously anymore. We’ve been together for three years, Michael. Three. And yet, we haven’t moved in together, you never talk about the future. Is this… not what you want?”

The silence that followed was heavy, deafening.

“Do you even imagine a future with me? Or are you just waiting to.. leave?” I added, my voice cracking despite my attempt to stay composed.

He stepped closer, his hand gently landing on my shoulder, trying to turn me toward him in vain.

“It’s not that,” he rectfied “You know my career doesn’t allow me to think about that kind of stuff yet, princess.”

His words only fueled the fire burning inside me. I pushed his hand away, my fists clenching as anger and despair warred within me.

“Then I don’t want this,” I snapped, my voice sharp and unforgiving.

Michael’s eyes widened in shock, his usual composure slipping. Anger flickered across his face as he grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to face him. His piercing gaze locked onto mine, but I turned away, unable to hold it.

“What do you mean by that?” he demanded, his voice carrying a faint tremor of pain beneath its intensity.

Tears threatened to spill as I bit my lip, cursing myself for letting frustration drive my words. I didn’t mean it. Not truly. But it was already out there, and I couldn’t take it back.

He pulled me closer by capturing my wrist in his hand. Lifting it to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss to the back of it.

“You’re not going anywhere, not because of this stupid fucking reason” he murmured, his tone firm , commanding.

I yanked my hand away, my movement harsh. For the first time, I saw uncertainty flicker in his expression, a rare crack in his confidence. He was losing control of the situation, and it was unfamiliar territory for him.

I understood his reasons. Deep down, I knew he was right. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. My desires, my expectations, felt so far away, and the bitterness was suffocating.

In one swift motion, Michael cupped my face in his right hand, forcing me to look up at him. His touch tilted my balance, leaving me on my tiptoes as he leaned in.

“Stop being unreasonable,” he said, his voice low but commanding. “You’re smart enough to understand.”

I squirmed in his grasp, the position almost unbearable, a frustrated moan escaping my lips. His, curled into a grin -a maddening, knowing grin- before he closed the distance between us, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

And just like that, my resistance crumbled. His kiss melted away every ounce of rebellion in me, leaving only the raw ache of love and longing.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered against my lips, breaking the kiss only to claim them again.

My back met the wall as he deepened the kiss, his desperation palpable.

“You're not going anywhere.” he murmured, his lips brushing against my jaw, trailing down to my ear in soft, butterfly kisses.

“Tell me you’re not going anywhere.” His voice trembled, a faint whimper betraying his vulnerability.

I couldn’t fight him anymore. Wrapping my arms around him, I pressed myself against him, burying my face in his shoulder.

“I’m not,” I whispered, my voice shaky but resolute.

#blue lock #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x you #blue lock x you #blue lock angst #bllk kaiser #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #gender neutral reader

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s4kura-tr3 · 3 months ago

Note

Hiya! Back, back again >:)

I was thinking about JJK men with an anxious reader? (I’ve personally been super anxious cause I’ve been sick and get SUPER anxious while I’m idle, especially with the ADHD simply- not letting me, so I’ve been thinking about it :P)

If you do this, thanks so much!! If you don’t, that’s totally cool too!! Have a fantastic day/night!! :D <3

(Sorry for the slow post, school has been kicking my butt..🥲)

Gojo satoru — You sat at the corner of the café, the soft hum of conversations and clinking coffee cups around you doing little to quiet the buzzing thoughts in your head. Your fingers tapped against the ceramic of your untouched drink, and your leg bounced under the table as your eyes darted around the room.

“Are you waiting for someone?” a familiar, cheerful voice chirped from above you.

Your head snapped up, startled. There he was—Gojo Satoru, all six feet three inches of him, leaning over the back of the chair across from you, his trademark sunglasses sliding slightly down his nose to reveal his brilliant blue eyes.

“I—I didn’t think you’d come,” you stammered, your cheeks flushing.

“Didn’t think I’d come? I wouldn’t miss a date with you for the world!” He grinned, sitting down without invitation. “Though, I’m offended you underestimated my charm.”

His playful teasing made you smile, even as your heart continued its anxious rhythm. “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought…maybe you’d have something better to do.”

Gojo’s expression softened, his usually smug demeanor replaced with something more sincere. He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, close enough that you could see the faint scar just beneath his glasses.

“Better than hanging out with the most captivating person in this city? Nope,” he said, his voice gentle now. “Besides, I promised you last time that I’d be here. I don’t break promises, you know.”

You swallowed hard, glancing down at your cup. “I just…sometimes I think you’ll realize I’m not worth it. I’m not like you, Satoru. I’m not confident or fearless. I overthink everything, and sometimes I can’t even breathe because it all feels like too much.”

Gojo’s hand reached out across the table, covering yours. His touch was warm, grounding. “Hey,” he said softly, “first of all, you’re allowed to feel like that. Life can be overwhelming, and I get it. But don’t ever think you’re not worth my time. You’re worth everything, okay?”

Your eyes widened, and he continued, his thumb lightly brushing the back of your hand. “You don’t have to be like me. You don’t have to be anyone but yourself. And if your brain gets too loud sometimes, that’s okay. I’ve got the loudest brain ever, so I know how it feels.” He grinned, trying to ease the tension.

A small laugh escaped you, and he beamed. “See? There’s that smile. You’re braver than you think, you know. Just showing up here today? That takes guts. And lucky for you, you’ve got me to help when things feel heavy. You don’t have to do it alone.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, chasing away some of the weight in your chest. You let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Thank you, Satoru.”

“Anytime,” he said, leaning back in his chair. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added, “Now, let’s get some cake. You can’t be anxious when there’s cake. It’s scientifically impossible.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin spreading across your face. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“For you? Always.”

Geto Suguru — The evening was quiet, the kind of stillness that made your thoughts louder than you wanted them to be. You sat on the couch in your small apartment, knees pulled to your chest as your mind raced with worries—about work, about people, about things that didn’t even make sense anymore.

The knock on your door startled you, and you hesitated before standing. You didn’t need to check to know who it was. He always had this perfect timing, as if he could sense when you needed him most.

When you opened the door, there he stood: Geto Suguru, dressed in his usual black robe-like outfit, his long dark hair tied neatly behind him. He held a small bag in one hand and gave you a gentle smile.

“I figured you hadn’t eaten yet,” he said softly, stepping inside as you moved aside. “So I brought your favorite.”

You blinked at him, warmth blooming in your chest despite the anxious haze clouding your thoughts. “You didn’t have to—”

“Shh.” He held up a finger, his expression teasing but kind. “I wanted to. Sit down, and I’ll set it up for you.”

You followed his instructions without protest, sinking back onto the couch as Geto moved around the kitchen like he’d been there a thousand times before. The smell of the food he brought began to fill the space, grounding you in the present.

When he finally joined you, he placed the neatly arranged meal on the coffee table, but his focus remained on you. “Rough day?” he asked, his voice as calm as always.

You bit your lip, your hands twisting in your lap. “It’s just…everything. I feel like I can’t keep up, like I’m always messing something up, and it just won’t stop.”

Geto’s brows furrowed slightly, but his expression wasn’t pitying—it was understanding. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before letting his hand rest lightly on your shoulder.

“I know how that feels,” he said quietly. “When it feels like the world is closing in, and you can’t catch your breath. It’s exhausting, isn’t it?”

You nodded, surprised at how easily he seemed to understand.

“But,” he continued, his thumb tracing comforting circles against your shoulder, “you don’t have to face it all at once. It’s okay to take things slow. One step at a time, one thought at a time. And if it gets too overwhelming, you’ve got me. I’ll carry as much as I can for you.

Tears prickled at your eyes, but you blinked them away. “Why are you so nice to me?”

He chuckled, leaning back slightly. “Because you’re important to me, that’s why. I care about you. And I’ll do whatever I can to remind you that you’re not alone, even when your mind tries to tell you otherwise.”

You let out a shaky breath, the weight on your chest easing just a little. “Thank you, Suguru. For being here.”

“Always,” he said with a soft smile. Then, his eyes lit with a playful glint as he gestured toward the food. “Now eat before I have to feed you myself.”

You laughed, the sound surprising even you. As the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm—him making jokes to distract you and you letting yourself be pulled into the warmth of his presence—you realized just how much lighter the room felt with him there.

Nanami kento — The soft click of the front door closing echoed through the quiet apartment. You sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. The weight in your chest felt immovable, like no amount of deep breaths or distractions could lift it.

“(Y/N), I’m home,” Nanami’s steady voice called from the entryway. His tone was the same as always—calm, measured—but there was an undercurrent of concern beneath it.

“In here,” you managed to reply, your voice quieter than usual.

It didn’t take him long to find you. He stepped into the room, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up. When his eyes landed on you, his sharp gaze softened instantly.

“Rough day?” he asked, crossing the room and crouching in front of you so you were eye level.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze as your fingers twisted the fabric of the blanket. “It’s…a lot. Everything feels too much. I don’t even know why.”

Nanami tilted his head, studying you for a moment before he reached out to take your hands in his. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you in the present. “You don’t have to justify it,” he said simply. “Sometimes things feel heavy without a clear reason. That doesn’t make your feelings any less valid.”

Your breath hitched, the calm conviction in his voice making your throat tighten with emotion. “I feel like I’m drowning, Kento. And I’m so tired of feeling like this.”

Nanami’s thumbs rubbed slow circles against your knuckles, his steady movements as comforting as his presence. “You don’t have to face it alone,” he said softly. “I’m here. We’ll take it one step at a time, together.”

You let out a shaky breath, finally meeting his eyes. The weight in your chest didn’t disappear, but the tight knot loosened ever so slightly under his steady gaze.

“Let’s focus on the basics,” he continued, his tone practical but kind. “Have you eaten today?”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.

“Then we’ll start there,” he said firmly, standing and offering you his hand. “Come on. I’ll make something quick, and we’ll sit together. No pressure to talk if you’re not ready.”

You hesitated, but the look on his face—warm, patient, unwavering—made it hard to resist. Taking his hand, you let him guide you into the kitchen.

As he moved around with practiced ease, slicing vegetables and boiling water, he made quiet conversation, nothing too heavy. He told you about a coworker’s antics at the office and how the new bakery he passed had a line around the block. His voice was calm, steady, a soothing balm to your racing thoughts.

When he finally placed the bowl of food in front of you, he sat beside you at the table, his hand resting lightly on your back. “Take your time,” he said, his tone as soft as his touch.

You took a bite, the warmth of the food spreading through you like the comfort of his presence. “Thank you,” you murmured, glancing at him.

His lips curved into a small, rare smile. “You don’t need to thank me. Just remember, no matter how heavy it feels, you’re not alone in carrying it.”

Toji fushiguro — You sat curled up on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. The TV was on, but the sound was muted—just background noise to fill the heavy silence in your apartment. Your chest felt tight, and no amount of shifting or deep breathing seemed to make it better.

The sound of keys jingling snapped you out of your thoughts. The door opened with a quiet creak, and Toji stepped inside, his broad frame instantly making the small space feel smaller. He kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, his sharp green eyes flicking to you almost immediately.

“You’ve been like this all day, huh?” he asked, his voice low and gruff but not unkind.

You glanced away, embarrassed. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, though your voice cracked on the last word.

Toji let out a short, knowing laugh. “Yeah, that’s convincing.” He walked over, dropping onto the couch beside you with a heavy thud. His body heat radiated toward you, and though he didn’t touch you yet, his presence alone was grounding.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asked, leaning back and draping one arm along the back of the couch, his tone softer now.

You hesitated, staring down at your hands. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Everything just feels…wrong. I can’t stop overthinking, and it’s like no matter what I do, I can’t calm down.”

Toji’s brow furrowed as he watched you, but he didn’t rush you to say more. After a moment, he let out a low sigh and reached out, his rough hand resting on your knee.

“Hey,” he said, his voice steadier now. “First of all, cut yourself some slack. You’re allowed to feel like this. Nobody’s got it all figured out, not even me.”

You glanced at him, raising a skeptical brow. “You sure about that?”

Toji smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m serious. You think I’ve never had nights where I felt like ripping my own damn hair out? Life’s messy, and sometimes it gets too loud up here.” He tapped his temple lightly.

His words caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected him to open up, even a little.

“But,” he continued, giving your knee a gentle squeeze, “you don’t have to deal with it on your own. You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

Your throat tightened, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I just feel so stupid sometimes. Like I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”

Toji’s expression darkened slightly, his tone firm. “Stop that. Your feelings aren’t stupid, and you’re not a damn burden. If it matters to you, it matters. Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise.”

His words struck something deep inside you, and before you knew it, you were leaning into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t hesitate, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The weight on your chest was still there, but it felt a little lighter with his steady presence grounding you.

“Feel like getting some fresh air?” he asked after a while, his voice low and rumbling. “Sometimes a walk helps. If not, we’ll come back, and I’ll make you something to eat. Or we can just sit here, your call.”

You nodded against his shoulder, his straightforwardness cutting through the fog in your mind. “A walk sounds nice.”

Toji stood, pulling you to your feet with ease. He grabbed your coat and handed it to you, his lips quirking into a small grin. “Good. And if anyone so much as looks at you wrong, I’ll take care of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his dramatic threat, the tension in your chest easing just a little more.

With Toji by your side, the world didn’t feel quite as overwhelming.

Sukuna ryomen — You sat on the floor of your room, back pressed against the wall, trying to breathe through the crushing weight in your chest. Everything felt wrong—your thoughts raced, your heart pounded, and no matter what you tried, the panic refused to let go. You buried your face in your knees, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.

“Oi.”

The familiar deep voice cut through the haze in your mind. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Sukuna. His presence always carried an undeniable weight, like the air itself bent around him.

You didn’t respond. Maybe if you ignored him, he’d leave.

“Are you seriously going to sit there like that?” he said, his tone sharp but lacking its usual venom. You could hear his footsteps as he crossed the room. “You’re better than this.”

You finally lifted your head, glaring at him through tear-filled eyes. “Better than what? Feeling like this? I can’t just make it stop, Sukuna.”

He crouched down in front of you, his crimson eyes narrowing as he studied your face. “Tch. No one said you had to ‘just make it stop.’” His voice was quieter now, almost calm. “But you’re not going to get through it by curling up and letting it win, either.”

You scoffed, turning your head away. “Why do you even care?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he shot back without hesitation. His words were blunt, but his tone softened slightly. “You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let some invisible nonsense bring you down, you’re wrong.”

Your breath hitched, his declaration catching you off guard. Sukuna, of all people, wasn’t exactly known for kindness or concern. Yet here he was, crouched in front of you, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“You don’t have to fight this alone,” he said after a moment, his voice lower now, more controlled. “But you do need to fight it. Let it scream all it wants. Let it throw its punches. Then stand up and remind it who you are.”

His words struck something deep within you, and tears began to fall despite your best efforts. “I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Sukuna sighed, leaning back slightly but staying close. “You can,” he said firmly. “And even if you stumble, I’m here. I’ll drag you back to your feet if I have to.”

You looked up at him, your vision blurred with tears. “You’d really do that?”

He smirked, but it wasn’t as sharp as usual. There was something softer in the way he looked at you. “Of course. Can’t have my little human breaking apart, now can I?”

A shaky laugh escaped you, and Sukuna’s smirk widened slightly. He extended a clawed hand toward you, palm up. “Come on. You’re not staying on the floor all night.”

You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his. His grip was warm and surprisingly gentle as he pulled you to your feet. He didn’t let go immediately, his hand lingering in yours for just a second longer than necessary.

“Better,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You don’t need to be perfect. Just keep moving forward, little one. That’s enough.”

You nodded, his words settling in your chest like a spark of light. With Sukuna beside you, the weight on your shoulders didn’t seem quite as heavy anymore.

Megumi fushiguro — You sat at the edge of your bed, gripping the fabric of your pants as your mind spiraled. Your chest felt tight, and your breaths came shallow, no matter how hard you tried to slow them. You hated this feeling—this overwhelming, suffocating anxiety that left you frozen in place.

A knock at the door broke through your haze

“Hey,” Megumi’s soft, steady voice called from the other side. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated, debating whether to send him away, but before you could answer, the door creaked open just enough for his head to peek through. His dark eyes locked onto yours, scanning your face with quiet concern.

“Thought so,” he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He didn’t say anything else right away, just walked over and sat beside you on the bed, leaving a small but comforting distance between you.

You stared at the floor, ashamed to even look at him. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, though the tremble in your voice gave you away.

Megumi let out a quiet sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You don’t have to say that,” he said, his voice calm and even. “I can tell you’re not.”

You bit your lip, feeling the tears start to build. “I hate this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hate feeling like I’m stuck in my own head, and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Megumi glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t have to figure it out alone,” he said after a moment. “I know it feels like you’re drowning, but you’re not. I’m right here.”

His words made something in your chest ache, and you let out a shaky breath. “I just—I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not,” Megumi said firmly, finally turning to face you. “Don’t even think that. Everyone needs help sometimes. Even me.”

You blinked, looking at him in surprise. “You?”

He gave a small, almost self-deprecating smile. “Yeah. You’ve seen how I can get—shutting people out, trying to deal with everything on my own. It doesn’t work.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “You’ve been there for me before. Let me be here for you now.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and Megumi didn’t hesitate. He scooted closer, his hand reaching out to gently rest on yours. His touch was warm and grounding, steady in a way that made your chest feel a little less tight.

“Breathe with me,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Just focus on my voice.”

You nodded, following his lead as he guided you through slow, deep breaths. His voice was calm, his presence unshakable, and gradually, the suffocating weight in your chest began to ease.

“Better?” he asked after a while, his tone gentle but hopeful.

You nodded again, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “A little,” you admitted.

Megumi gave you a small smile, the kind that was rare but always genuine. “Good. It doesn’t have to be perfect right now. Just one step at a time.”

He stayed by your side, his hand still resting over yours, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe again. With Megumi’s quiet strength grounding you, the storm in your mind didn’t seem so impossible to face.

Yuji itadori — You sat on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring blankly at the floor. Your chest felt heavy, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t untangle. Everything felt like too much, and no matter how hard you tried to calm down, nothing seemed to work.

The sound of the door opening barely registered in your mind.

“Hey, I’m back!” Yuji’s cheerful voice echoed through the room, followed by the sound of a bag hitting the floor. “I got your favorite snack—” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw you. “Wait…what’s wrong?”

You didn’t look up, trying to blink back the tears threatening to fall. “It’s nothing,” you murmured, though your shaky voice betrayed you.

Yuji was by your side in an instant, crouching in front of you with a concerned expression. “Hey,” he said softly, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Don’t say that. If something’s bothering you, it’s not nothing.”

You shook your head, burying your face in your knees. “I just… I don’t know how to explain it. My head won’t stop racing, and everything feels like it’s too much.”

Yuji sat down on the floor in front of you, crossing his legs and resting his arms on his knees. “Okay,” he said gently. “Then you don’t have to explain it. But you don’t have to deal with it alone either, okay? I’m here.”

You peeked at him through watery eyes. “I don’t want to ruin your day, Yuji. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

He frowned, his face softening as he reached out to rest a hand on your knee. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re never ruining my day, okay? You’re important to me. If you’re feeling bad, then I want to help.”

His words broke something in you, and a tear slid down your cheek. Yuji’s expression didn’t falter. Instead, he smiled, soft and reassuring. “You know what we’ll do? We’ll take it one step at a time. No pressure, no rush. Just little steps until it feels better.”

“How?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“First, we breathe,” he said, shifting to sit beside you on the couch. “Come on, match my breathing. In for four, out for four.” He exaggerated each breath, making it easy for you to follow.

You mimicked him hesitantly, the steady rhythm of his breathing drawing you out of your head little by little.

“See? You’re doing great,” he said, beaming at you once you both settled into a calmer pace. “Now, do you want to talk about it? Or do you just want to sit here for a while?”

You glanced at him, his warm smile easing the tightness in your chest. “Just…sit here for now.”

“Okay,” he said simply. Without hesitation, Yuji wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you gently against him. “We’ll just sit. I’ll be here as long as you need.”

The warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing grounded you in the moment. With Yuji by your side, the weight pressing down on you didn’t feel quite as heavy. He didn’t need to say anything else—his presence alone was enough to remind you that you weren’t alone.

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nayaacknndy · 3 months ago

Text

"as long as i'm here, no one can hurt you."

The sound of the keyboard echoed in the quiet room, the light from the laptop illuminated the face of the man in his late thirties in that dimly lit room, the glasses provided a reflection of the screen as he did the rest of his work, The silence of the night was deafening, but it made his hearing senses sound clearer to be alert.

A sound of the door creaking was heard, making him turn towards the source of the sound, thinking it was his wife, but it turned out to be just their cat, it meowed softly, approached him and climbed onto his table.

"There, buddy." He stroked its head, making the cat purr, but soon after, the cat meowed, looking at him with its gray eyes.

Leon didn't really understand or realize that look, until he heard the sound of breaking glass, making him jolted and immediately rushed out of his study, ran down the stairs in a hurry, and saw her there, his wife, one hand gripping the edge of the table, and the other touching her face.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, babe." As soon as Leon pulled her into his arms, he could feel Noah's body shaking, her skin felt cold, he could already guess what she was feeling right now. Anxiety and possibility of PTSD.

Ignoring the broken glass to calm her down first, their cat who had been following Leon now climbed onto the dining table, sitting quietly watching them as if it had previously told him something was wrong with her.

"It's okay... I'm here now, always be right here with you." Leon kept trying to calm him down. While Noah remained silent, as if her emotions were struggling inside her head.

The warmth of Leon's body warmed her body and heart, making her lower her own ego, with hands still trembling and hesitant, she returned Leon's hug, burying her face in Leon's chest. Leon stroked her hair, while his hands were still tightly hugging her.

Leon cupped Noah's face, staring into the red and amber irises he admired. "I'll clean up the broken glass and let you have your hot chocolate, just wait a minute for me, okay, honey?" Leon smiled, giving Noah a small peck on her cheeks.

Leon did his job, cleaning up the glass shards and wrapping them safely for disposal, then made Noah the drink she wanted. Meanwhile, Noah, who was watching Leon silently, felt a soft touch on her shoulder, turning her head to see their black cat trying to get her attention by gently rubbing its paw on her cheek too, so Noah carried the cat in her arms, her expression was still hard to read, as if Noah herself was still confused about how she should react.

Some time later Leon finished making Noah hot chocolate, leading Noah to their bedroom as a comfortable place for Noah to calm down. Once inside, Leon closed the door softly, leading Noah to sit on the bed after which he put down the mug of hot chocolate, stroked Noah's cheek to keep trying to calm her down while Leon sat beside Noah, holding her hand in an attempt to let her know that she was not alone.

"You're not going to keep silent, are you?" Leon asked, his eyes still glued to her face while Noah looked pensive as she held the cat who kept looking at her face too. "You sometimes forget my duties as a husband."

Those words managed to make Noah turn her head towards Leon, a little confused look, a warm smile on Leon's face indicated that Noah didn't need to hide herself anymore, telling her that it was okay to involve him, it's okay to be herself around him.

The dark and dead gaze told him that Leon was right, the gaze that had no sparkle made his heart ache, with a faint smile of understanding, Leon shifted to adjust his position on the bed, pulling Noah into his arms as he half leaned against the headboard.

"Leon." Noah called, his voice soft, Leon hums softly, letting her know that Leon was listening.

"Am I Lycus?"

"No, you're Noah." Leon said, stroking her hair, his lips kissing the top of Noah's head, the woman did not take her hands off the cat. "You're still Noah to me though you're as strong as a goddess."

"You are stronger than you think, though you feel fragile." Leon said, his voice and breath were enough to calm Noah down at this moment.

"I am weak–"

"No, you're not, darling." Noah was silent, letting Leon's words sink in, her expression starting to weaken, but she didn't cry, her heart was pounding and her body felt hot and cold again.

"they said–"

"Mhm, not them." Leon cut her off, not letting Noah belittle herself. "You are special, you are strong, don't deny that."

Biting her lower lip, Noah took her hands off the cat to circle Leon's waist, closing her eyes, letting her ears rest on Leon's chest to listen to his heartbeat, making her calm down slowly.

Slowly, the images of her past faded back into Leon's arms, the burden on her shoulders fell off instantly, allowing her to surrender to Leon's love, allowing Leon to see her fragile side, allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of Leon, her husband.

His kisses, his voice, his breath, his heartbeat soothed her soul, makes her want to leave everything just to be near him, to feel the warmth that soothes her.

"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you." Leon said, resting his cheek on the top of Noah's head once his woman had finally fallen asleep, followed by their cat who also seemed to calm down when it saw Noah getting better, lying between them.

"It's okay... Noah, don't worry, i'll be right here when you need it."

"Don't pretend to be strong in front of me when you're not, you are allowed to be weak in front of me, I love you for who you are and however you are."

—a/n : lmk if I misspell something, English is not my native language—

i bring a fanfic from oc x canon that i have (Lyceon is the ship name), im posting it here cuz usually on Insta, well... let's just say Insta hates me for typing long like this lol. so hope you like what i wrote, im not that good at writing, and made this in a hurry because it was already midnight, i'll revise this if there is something wrong :3

#leon kennedy #resident evil #fanart #leon x oc #leon fanart #resident evil fanart #oc x canon #oc #re oc #rebhfun #resident evil oc #fanfic #older leon kennedy #death island leon

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its-avalon-08 · 10 months ago

Text

bruised knuckles (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, he calls her his ex's name, tears, comfort

(no hate to any ex-girlfriends, i just needed it for the story)

Y/n slammed the apartment door shut, the echo bouncing off the bare walls. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, the Montreal wind whipping through the open window doing little to cool the simmering anger inside her. The fight with Carlos had escalated quickly, their voices rising above the city's evening hum.

It all started with a seemingly harmless Instagram post. A picture of Carlos and his ex-girlfriend, Isabella, posing together at a charity event they'd both attended. The caption, "Great catching up with a dear friend, Isa! #SupportGoodCauses," only fanned the flames of insecurity Y/n had been trying to ignore for weeks.

"It's nothing, Y/n," Carlos had said, frustration lacing his voice. "We've been friends for years. It's just a photo."

"But you never post pictures with me," Y/n had countered, her voice tight. "Not from events, not from anywhere."

"That's different," he'd argued. "This was for charity. Besides, you hate being in photos."

"Maybe I wouldn't hate it if it felt like you wanted to show me off," Y/n shot back, the words stinging on her tongue the moment they left her lips.

Carlos had sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Come on, Y/n. Don't start this again."

The conversation spiraled, old hurts resurfacing. Y/n, a freelance photographer who thrived on capturing moments, felt invisible next to Carlos, a Formula One driver constantly in the spotlight. The insecurity gnawed at her, and Isabella's friendly post felt like a giant red flag waving in her face.

The fight reached its peak when, in a fit of anger, Carlos reached across the table, his hand landing on hers. "Look, Isa –" He stopped short, his eyes widening in realization. The air hung heavy as the weight of his mistake settled on them both.

Y/n's heart shattered into a million pieces. The name, a careless slip, confirmed her worst fears. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She stood up, her voice choked with emotion.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, the words barely audible. Then, louder, her voice cracking, "You called me your ex. That says it all, doesn't it?"

Carlos scrambled to his feet, reaching for her, but she flinched away. Tears streamed down her face as she grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and started shoving clothes inside with trembling hands.

"Y/n, wait," Carlos pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. "It was a mistake, I swear."

"Don't," she choked out, the single word laced with a lifetime of unspoken hurt. "Just don't."

carlos's pov

Regret, cold and sharp, clawed at my insides. Y/n stood there, the duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her beautiful eyes red-rimmed and filled with a pain that mirrored my own. My stupid mistake, the one unforgivable slip of the tongue, hung heavy in the air.

"Y/n, please," I pleaded, my voice thick with emotion. "Don't do this."

She reached for the car keys on the hook by the door, her movements jerky, mirroring the storm raging inside her. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a desperate plea for her to stay.

"We can talk about this," I stammered, my hands shaking. "It was a mistake, a stupid, careless mistake. I love you, Y/n. You know that, don't you?"

But the words seemed to fall flat, bouncing off the walls of the suddenly cavernous apartment. Her gaze, once filled with warmth and love, now held a coldness that sent shivers down my spine.

"No, I don't know that anymore," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The sound of the engine turning over ripped through the silence. I lunged towards her, desperation fueling my movements. "Wait!" I yelled, but she was already out the door.

I watched, helpless, as she slid behind the wheel, her face etched with a pain that mirrored the agony twisting my gut. The car lurched forward, pulling out of the driveway and disappearing into the Montreal twilight.

I sank to my knees, the floorboards cold against my skin. Tears, hot and unchecked, streamed down my face. My vision blurred as the weight of my actions crashed down on me. I'd driven her away, the woman I loved more than anything, with my own stupidity.

The silence in the apartment pressed in on me, suffocating. The remnants of our fight – a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the counter, a book abandoned mid-sentence on the couch – mocked me with their normalcy. Everything seemed so trivial, so meaningless, without Y/n.

The sound of her car fading into the distance echoed in my ears, a constant reminder of the love I'd so carelessly thrown away. In that moment, I would have given anything to take back my words, to rewind time and hold her close, to assure her, with every fiber of my being, that she was the only woman I loved.

But all I had left was the deafening silence and the crushing weight of regret, a heavy price to pay for a stupid, careless mistake.

Rain lashed against the windshield, blurring the neon lights of Montreal into an unrecognizable smear. Y/n gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, tears blurring her vision further. Each sob that wracked her body felt like a shard of glass tearing through her chest.

Following a route etched into memory, she pulled into the familiar driveway of Charles and Alexandra's house. The house, usually a haven of laughter and warmth, felt like the only place she could go.

Scrambling out of the car, she ran for the porch, the downpour soaking her clothes in seconds. Pounding on the door, she barely registered Charles' surprised face before collapsing into his arms, her sobs erupting anew.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" Charles asked, concern etched on his face. He ushered her inside, the warmth of the house a stark contrast to the storm outside.

Alexandra appeared at the sound of the commotion, her eyes widening at the sight of her friend. "Oh my god, Y/n! What happened?"

Wrapping her arms around Y/n's shaking form, Alexandra led her to the living room couch. "Charles, get some tea, honey. A strong one."

As Charles disappeared into the kitchen, Alexandra held Y/n close, her gentle touch a balm on the fiery pain. Finally, between choked sobs, Y/n managed to get the words out.

"It's Carlos," she hiccuped. "We had a fight. A horrible fight."

Out came the story, a torrent of hurt and betrayal. She spoke of Carlos' insensitivity, his unwillingness to acknowledge her feelings, and finally, the crushing blow – the slip of the tongue that confirmed her worst fears.

"He called me his ex," Y/n choked out, burying her face in her hands. "He doesn't even love me, does he?"

Alexandra squeezed her hand, her voice firm but gentle. "Hey, hey, look at me." Y/n complied, revealing red-rimmed eyes and a tear-streaked face. "Don't jump to conclusions. You know Carlos can be a bit of an idiot sometimes."

Y/n scoffed. "A bit of an idiot? He doesn't even see me, Alexandra. I'm just some inconvenient truth compared to his glamorous life."

Charles returned with a steaming mug, placing it carefully in Y/n's hand. "Here," he said softly. "Drink this. You need to calm down."

Y/n took a sip, the warmth spreading through her chilled body. "It's not fair," she continued, her voice trembling with anger. "He never wants to post pictures with me, never makes me feel like I'm part of his world. And then, on top of it all, he calls me his ex?"

A tense silence filled the room, broken only by the soft crackling of the fireplace. Charles exchanged a worried glance with Alexandra. He knew Carlos and Y/n's relationship had been strained lately, but this was worse than he'd imagined.

"Look, Y/n," Charles began, choosing his words carefully. "We don't know the whole story. Maybe Carlos messed up, but you know he loves you."

Y/n gave a humorless laugh. "Love doesn't act like that, Charles. Love doesn't make you feel invisible."

Alexandra took over, her voice laced with quiet strength. "Y/n, honey, sometimes love needs a good talking to. You can't just run away and expect things to fix themselves."

Y/n considered this, her anger simmering into a dull ache. The thought of facing Carlos again filled her with dread, but the idea of losing him altogether was even more terrifying.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered, burying her face back in her hands.

Charles and Alexandra exchanged another look. They knew this was a fight Y/n and Carlos had to face alone. But for now, all they could offer was a warm hearth, a listening ear, and the unwavering support of friends. The storm outside might rage, but inside, a different kind of storm was brewing, one fueled by love, hurt, and the uncertain path that lay ahead.

The first knock on the door was almost gentle, lost in the rumble of thunder that seemed to be having its own tantrum outside. The second one, though, made Alexandra and Y/n jump. It was a pounding, a desperate plea that sent shivers down both their spines.

"Charles!" Alexandra exclaimed, worry flickering in her eyes.

Charles, already on his feet, moved quickly towards the door. He flung it open, bracing himself for another downpour, only to find Carlos standing on the porch, rain clinging to his clothes like a second skin. His face was pale, streaked with rain and something else that looked suspiciously like tears.

Without a word, Carlos pushed past Charles, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Y/n curled up on the couch. He moved towards her like a man possessed, ignoring Charles's bewildered questions.

Y/n flinched as he approached, but Alexandra placed a calming hand on her arm. Carlos stopped a few feet away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He looked like a broken statue, rain dripping from his hair like tears.

Then, with a shaky breath, he sank to his knees before Y/n. His voice, rough and raw, cut through the silence.

"Y/n," he started, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, just listen. I don't even know where to begin. I messed up. I messed up so badly, and I don't deserve you, not after what I did."

He took a shuddering breath, his eyes locking with hers. The raw pain and desperation in them made Y/n's heart clench.

"That name," he continued, his voice cracking. "There's no excuse. It slipped, a stupid, careless mistake. But the truth is, you're all I see, Y/n. You're the light in my world, the calm in the storm. You make me a better person, even on my worst days."

A single tear escaped his eye, tracing a path down his cheek. Y/n's breath hitched. Seeing Carlos, the confident, fearless driver, reduced to such a vulnerable state, chipped away at the wall of anger she'd built around her heart.

"I know I've been a jerk," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I haven't shown you how much you mean to me. You deserve to be celebrated, to be shown off to the world. I was scared, Y/n. Scared of losing you, of not being enough. That stupid post, it was a reminder of what I almost lost when you came into my life."

He reached out a hand, his fingers hovering just above hers. "I love you, Y/n. More than words can ever express. You're my best friend, my confidante, the woman I want beside me through every victory and every defeat."

The room hung heavy with unspoken emotions. Y/n watched him, a silent battle raging inside her. Charles and Alexandra stood by, unseen witnesses to the raw vulnerability playing out before them.

Finally, Y/n reached out, her hand trembling slightly. She took his hand in hers, the warmth a stark contrast to the coldness that had enveloped her heart.

"I...I need to hear you say it," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Show me, Carlos. Show me that you love me."

Carlos's face lit up with a smile that could rival the sunshine on a perfect day. He squeezed her hand, his voice thick with emotion.

"I'll spend the rest of my life showing you, Y/n. I'll post pictures until you beg me to stop. I'll shout your name from the rooftops if that's what it takes. Just give me another chance, please."

A sob escaped Y/n's lips, this time a sob of relief. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time they were tears of forgiveness and a love that, despite the storm, still burned brightly.

As they pulled each other into a tight embrace, the storm outside seemed to lose its fury. Thunder rumbled one last time, a distant echo of the tempest that had raged within them. In the warm embrace of love and forgiveness, Y/n and Carlos found their calm, ready to face whatever storms life threw their way, together.

The drive back to their apartment was a quiet one, punctuated only by the rhythmic swish of the wipers and the occasional rumble of thunder that seemed to echo the turmoil within them. Y/n sat close to Carlos, her hand resting on his arm. Her fingers brushed against a tender spot, a small bruise blooming where he'd pounded on Charles' door.

Without a word, she reached out and cradled his hand, her touch soft against his calloused palm. A tear welled up in Carlos's eye, spilling over and tracing a glistening path down his cheek.

"Y/n," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't deserve you."

Y/n squeezed his hand gently. "Don't say that," she said softly. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, and that includes me."

Hesitantly, she brought his hand up to her lips, placing a gentle kiss on the bruised knuckles. The touch sent a jolt through Carlos, a mixture of pain and a surprising sweetness.

"It wasn't about the pictures, Carlos," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "It was about feeling unseen, like I wasn't a part of your world."

Carlos looked at her, his eyes searching hers. "But you are my world, Y/n. You're everything to me."

A small smile played on Y/n's lips. "I know," she said, her voice filled with a newfound understanding. "You just needed to show me."

She reached up and wiped away the tear that stubbornly clung to his cheek. Her touch was a balm, soothing the raw emotions that had been churning inside him.

"We can work on that together," she continued, her voice firm but gentle. "Right now, all that matters is that we're okay."

Carlos took a deep breath, letting out a shaky sigh. "I love you, Y/n," he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "More than anything in this world."

Y/n's heart swelled with love. "I love you too, Carlos," she whispered, leaning closer.

Their eyes met, a universe of unspoken emotions passing between them. Slowly, Carlos leaned in, bridging the gap between them. The kiss was filled with a quiet intensity, a promise of a new beginning, a love that had weathered the storm and emerged stronger.

As they pulled away, breathless and filled with a newfound closeness, the rain outside began to taper off. The clouds parted, revealing a sliver of moon peeking through. It wasn't a perfect night, but for Y/n and Carlos, it was a new beginning, a chance to rebuild their love, brick by brick, stronger and more beautiful than ever before.

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takamimami · 6 months ago

Note

I am a fucking idiot my brain clocked out while I was reading the prompts

All Angst;

2, 8, 11.

All with both Law and Kid (seperate)

Hello, my dear. Thank you for the request! I have been needing to crank out some good old heart-wrenching angst, so this request was much appreciated!

That being said, I am a sucker for both Kidd and Law, so this will be a two-parter - sorry to keep you waiting :3 but I promise there will be plenty of angst and smut in the next part, so hopefully it is worth the wait <3

Kidd/Law x F!Reader - SFW - "Please don't talk about yourself like that." - STORY UNDER THE CUT CW: ANGST; kidd is prideful and stubborn, law is moody and sensitive, crew mate!reader ---word count ~1k each

A simple comment about him controlling his temper was all it took to have you and your captain at each other’s throats. You couldn’t understand how he could be so brazen and hot-headed when danger stared him in the face, and he didn’t give you a chance to explain where your concerns stemmed from before he dismissed them completely, his stubbornness rearing its ugly head as he cut you off in the middle of your sentence.

“I don’t care to hear anymore, Y/N. I am the captain of this crew, and I will handle things my way. The pirate I am has gotten our crew to where we are so far - so if you have a problem with the way I handle things…”

🌷

“...Either keep it to yourself or get lost!”

You barely heard the words leave his mouth as he stared down at you, chest puffed out and breathing heavily as he yelled. Your eyes burned, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how hard his words hit you. Instead, you looked over to Killer - who normally played peacemaker between the two of you during your squabbles - to find him rubbing his temples as Kidd turned and stormed away from you, leaving you standing in the middle of the deck. Unbeknownst to you, Quincy was also lurking near the stairs to the helm, witnessing the fall out of what started out as a heart-to-heart with your captain.

You let the first sob shake your shoulders as the door to Kidd’s workshop slams shut, and Quincy and Killer are immediately on you, both of them reaching a reassuring hand to your shoulders. You brush away from their touch, storming to the bow of the ship to get away from everyone, feeling your chest tightening as you struggle to draw in breaths.

To your surprise Quincy follows you, lingering a few feet from where you grip the railing, trying your best to level your breathing as tears continue to sting your eyes. She doesn’t say anything, not wanting to leave you alone, but also not wanting to impose on your space as you try to settle your mind.

“He didn’t mean it,” she says softly, shifting closer to you as you turn and lean against the railing, keeping your eyes on the ground as she approaches.

“Yes he did,” you murmur, feeling the familiar self-doubt creep into your mind as you think over the argument that just occurred. “He’s always told me I’m too emotional for this lifestyle, so maybe I don’t belong here after all.”

Quincy flinches at your words, reaching her arms out and pulling you into a hug by your shoulders. “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Y/N,” she chastises, pulling away to look you in your eyes as she continues. “Kidd is just… emotionally constipated. Like, all the time. He views emotions as a sign of weakness, and he doesn’t realize that if everyone on this crew acted as irrationally as he did, we wouldn’t have made it this far.”

You hold back the new tears forming in your eyes as you look at Quincy, talking in her words as she offers you a gentle smile.

“C’mon,” she nudges, “I know where Killer keeps his comfort snacks.”

She giggles as your lip curls into a smile, following her to the kitchen and immediately feeling a lump in your throat as you open the door to Kidd and Killer arguing in the kitchen.

Kidd’s eyes flick over to you, not even flinching at your disheveled appearance before he returns his gaze to Killer, who looks exasperated as he nudges his head in your direction.

“Apologize.”

Killer’s authoritative voice makes you flinch as you keep your eyes on Kidd, his throat bobbing as he holds Killer’s glare.

“Last time I checked, I am the captain of this crew,” he says between gritted teeth. He turns his gaze to you, eyes fiery with rage as he grows more defensive by the second. “And I don’t recall one of my responsibilities as captain to be coddling my crew when they don’t get their way.”

You feel your jaw tense at his words, and before you can swallow down the retort you take a step forward and press your hands to the counter.

“Stop acting like a self-righteous prick, Kidd,” you snap, feeling the rage bubbling up from your gut as you lash out at him. “I only said what I did earlier because… I love you.”

The last words leave your mouth quieter than the previous ones, your voice cracking from the vulnerability behind them. This was only the second time you’d dare utter the words to Kidd, the first time you had been the day he lost his arm - when you weren’t sure he would make it. The two of you hadn’t spoken about it directly, but you knew Kidd was mindful of the way you felt for him, at least you thought that was the case until today.

You can feel Killer and Quincy tense as Kidd’s stance sharpens, his lip curling as if he were going to snarl at the words leaving your mouth.

“I didn’t ask you to love me.”

Your breath hitches as you hear the words hanging in the air, the weight of them bearing down on your shoulders as the tears burning your eyes begin to fall.

Kidd looks away, almost wincing at your reaction as he speaks again.

“I am the way that I am, Y/N. You of all people should know this,” he grunts, moving from his spot across the kitchen and heading towards the door. “I don’t need any of you trying to change me or tell me what I should be doing.”

With that Kidd kicks open the door to the kitchen and stomps away, back out onto the deck.

You try your best to hold in the sobs as you saunter over to the door, desperate to go curl up in your bed and try to sort through your thoughts.

“Y/N,” Killer calls to you quietly, causing you to pause at the door as you try to muster the strength to answer him.

Your lip quivers, the hole in your chest growing as you hear Kidd’s words echoing through your mind, and instead of saying anything you just look back at Killer. The pain in your eyes must have said enough because his shoulders slump as he watches you leave the kitchen.

Your vision blurs as you disappear below deck and into the women’s quarters, grateful that no one was around to hear you as your sobs rock you into a fitful sleep.

🐯

“...Maybe it's time to re-evaluate your position on this crew.”

You could feel your nails digging into your palms as you squeezed your hands into fists at your sides, feeling that familiar burn in your eyes as you watched Law resume wrapping the wound on his arm.

He winces as he struggles to lift his shoulder, and you instinctively lunge towards him to assist him with wrapping the wound, your jaw tight as you work in silence. You fought the urge to tie the bandage too tight in retaliation as Law watched you work, his eyes softening ever so slightly as he took in how your delicate hands traced over his skin.

The door to his office swings open behind you as you finish tying off the gauze, and Bepo strolls in and drops a stack of paperwork onto Law’s desk before turning it over to the two of you.

“Captain,” he says wearily, nodding awkwardly as he feels the tension in the air between the two of you. “Shachi and I are done sorting through the documents you brought back, and these are the ones that looked the most promising.”

Law turns his attention from you to Bepo, and you take the opportunity to shift away from him, shuffling towards the door in an attempt to dismiss yourself.

“Y/N,” Law’s stern voice cuts through the air, Bepo flinching a bit as he casts a sympathetic gaze your way. “We’re not done, here.”

You squeeze your hands again, feeling your palms sting as you stop halfway through the doorway. You breathe in deeply before looking over your shoulder at him, his brows furrowing as he catches your heated glare.

Bepo salutes awkwardly as he shuffles towards the door, distress evident on his face as he disappears back down the hall, leaving you alone with Law once again.

You turn around and lean against the wall, eyeing Law from across the room as he hobbles over to his desk, skimming over the papers that Bepo left as he contemplates the next thing to say.

“I don’t appreciate being questioned, Y/N,” Law murmurs, eyes lifting to meet yours as he sits down behind his desk. “At the end of the day, the crew will do as I say, and I will take whatever necessary measures are needed in order to ensure we are successful.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you refocus on him. “So we are supposed to just stand idly by while you make reckless decisions, regardless of how risky they are? You expect your crew to just sit back and be yes-men?”

He grimaces at the tone in your voice, his eyes dropping back down to the papers on his desk. “I want my crew to trust me, and not question their captain’s decisions.”

“Well, I can’t do that, Law. Not when I care about you this much.” You feel your breath catch in your throat and your pulse rise at the realization of your admission.

Law’s hand tightens on the edge of the table, and his eyes shoot back up to meet your heated gaze. “If you can’t trust me, Y/N, then why are you part of this crew?”

You suck in a shallow breath at Law’s question, wondering if he was asking it to you or to himself.

“If you don’t want me here, just say that,” you say through clenched teeth, dropping your chin to your chest as you feel your eyes begin to burn.

Law grimaces, still holding firm as he keeps his gaze on you, “Your words, not mine.”

Not an admission, but his answer leaves little room for comfort as you slowly release the breath you had been holding. You can feel your pulse in your temples as you do your best to fight off the tears, turning away from Law and storming out of the room as you feel the first one slip through your lids.

You waited half a beat for him to call out to you, to come rushing after you to offer you the reassurance you were seeking - that he wanted you on his crew. But Law remained in his office chair as your trembling legs carried you down the halls of the polar tang, stopping as you round the corner to release the pressure building in your chest. A sob rakes through your body, your throat immediately going raw as the tears spill faster and faster. You bring a hand to your mouth to keep the sound from reaching your crewmates down the hall, ducking into the small corridor that leads to the small women’s quarters.

You quickly enter the room and shut the door behind you, leaning your head against it as your sobs intensify, the sound vibrating off the walls of the empty room. You turn and lean against the door, sinking down to the floor and holding your knees to your chest as you try to get a grip on the emotions swirling through your chest. You hear footsteps approaching from down the hall and try to muffle the sounds of your cries, but Bepo’s soft knock at the door for some reason brings a whole new wave of emotions washing over you.

“Y/N,” he calls gently through the door. You drop your head down onto your arms and continue sobbing, letting the pathetic sounds tell Bepo everything he needs to know as he lingers on the other end of the door.

“I’m fine, Bepo,” you croak, knowing you don’t sound anywhere near as convincing as you wanted to. “I’ll be gone soon, so you and the others won't have to worry about me. I’m sure you’ll find someone better suited for this kind of thing anyway.

Bepo leans into the door, wishing he could somehow offer you an embrace through it.

“Please don’t say that, Y/N. We need you.”

Silence is all you can offer him as your eyes begin to burn again, fresh tears cascading down your face.

He stands there for a while before giving up, realizing you need this time to be alone as he places a supportive paw on the door opposite you before walking away. His footsteps disappear down the halls, leaving you alone with your thoughts - the sound of Law’s voice haunting your dreams as you slump onto the cold floor.

Part Two

100 Follower Event Masterlist ✨come say hai :3✨

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