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soursherbat · 1 year ago

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Sensation; Chapter 4

I Want You

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A Springtrap x OC fanfic

Word Count; 3,154

We’d been standing in my kitchen for a while now, embracing each other in silence as we both processed what this would mean for us going forward. It seems like my words stunned him, his usually twitching limbs now abnormally still. He probably couldn’t believe that I wanted him to stay. I couldn’t believe he’d stay with me, of all people.

Though I supposed dealing with me would be better than his previous situation. Anything would be better than rotting in a giant fire hazard just waiting to burn inside it, I’d imagine.

I didn’t want to pull away from him, he clearly didn’t want to leave my embrace either. The only sound in our home being that of his purring emanating loudly from his chest, I can hear it even clearer with my face pressed so close to his fur.

This man was no monster. He was adorably endearing, so kindly and genuine that it still boggles my mind that someone as tortured as he was could be so polite.

We both stiffen when my phone rings in my pocket, the ringtone so loud and jarring to both of us that I hear a small gasp from him.

I reluctantly pull myself away, my heart sinking when I see my superior’s phone number.

“I... I have to take this. Feel free to sit on the couch...”

Springtrap nods, clearly saddened by my absence. I felt terrible- but hopefully it would only take a minute. They couldn’t prove that it happened on my shift... I hoped. God, I hoped.

I retreat into my bedroom, softly shutting the door. I pick it up before it rings a third time, acting as if I’d just woken up to add a touch of credibility to the story I was about to bullshit.

“... Hello...?”

I greet them, forcing a sleepy tone to my voice. It was a phone call- I doubt they’d be able to pick up on it being disingenuous.

“Hawk! What happened? Fazbear’s Fright burned down- did something happen on your shift?”

It’s hard not to laugh. No concern for my well being, nor any thought spared for the man they would have let burn in that building. I feign surprise, trying my best to act like I didn’t already know that.

“What?! No- no, nothing happened... everything was the same as it was yesterday when I left this morning... was anyone hurt?”

There’s a moment of silence, followed by a heavy sigh.

“No. Nobody was in the building, luckily. Probably an electrical fire, then...”

I hear them sigh again, probably not looking forward to the legalities they’d have to go through, insurance and all that. If that fucking building was insured in the first place, at least...

“Well, Hawk... obviously you won’t need to be returning to work. Sorry it had to end like this. Good luck.”

Before I can even say anything- they’ve hung up. I stand there in silence, before just laughing. I’d gotten away with it. My hands had been shaking that entire time, but they seemed to barely even care that it had happened.

They seemed to expect it, anyway. Whatever. Wasn’t my problem to deal with any longer.

I stop. They didn’t care. He was free. We were free.

I feel my hands begin to tremble once more. We’d made it out of that situation without suspicion. Nobody knew I had him here. We were alone together.

I shakily open my bedroom door, a smile wide on my face. Who cares that I lost my job- I cared far more about my rabbit sitting patiently on my couch right now, looking at me expectantly.

“Is everything alright?”

I pause for a moment, realizing how I must look right now. Realizing that I’d just referred to him mentally as ‘mine.’ I regain my composure, clearing my throat as I shove my phone back into my pocket.

“Yeah- yeah... everything’s fine now.”

I stand there, unsure of what to do with myself at this moment. I wasn’t used to having someone else in my home- let alone somebody I was having such complex and mixed feelings about.

I liked him. Quite a bit- I could admit that to myself. We’d only known each other for four days now, if you wanted to count that first night we shared a passing glance.

I’d gotten attached quicker than that. I’ll admit it, I wasn’t very smart. But... I still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was not just a passing infatuation. No, the looks we shared- our embrace... how right it felt to call things ours rather than just mine.

Except one thing. It felt right to call him mine.

The thought makes my hands shake. I normally had trembling hands- but this was worse. I was in too deep, there was no way he’d ever feel this way about me. I couldn’t accept it- none of my relationships ever worked out.

It was usually due to the other party being... well. Not exactly the best for me- abusive was putting it lightly, really. My attachment issues had gotten me into trouble more times than I’d like to recount.

But he’s so different. And not like the other times I’d told myself that- no, a genuine kindheartedness in his eyes that just made my heart melt every time he looked at me.

Right. He’s still looking at me. I feel a blush creep across my cheeks as I try to laugh off the concerned look he’s giving me, looking away from him.

“Sorry. Just... have a lot to think about right now.”

Springtrap chuckles, nodding in agreement.

“Ah... I suppose I do, too. No need to apologize.”

Another bout of silence rolls in, both of us just sharing a wistful stare until I finally break eye contact to look at my clock.

It’s already noon. Christ, I didn’t realize how long we’d been sitting in this kitchen. As soon as I processed the time, my body began to yell at me as a cacophony of sensations and aches finally hit me.

I’d been on my feet since midnight- and I hadn’t eaten at all in that time, either. I can feel the pit in my stomach, my body begging for me to eat anything at this point.

He seems to pick up on my change in demeanor, tilting his head curiously. God- it looked so cute when his ears flopped over slightly, his eyes softening as he gazed back at me...

I barely even process that he’d just said something to me. In fact- I don’t process it at all.

“I’m sorry- what did you say?”

“Are you okay, Hawk?”

“Oh... yeah. I- I’m fine...”

I’d been wondering why my hands were shaking so badly, I needed to make something to eat- anything really, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I feel my legs aching, feeling like I was standing on knives.

He stands from his spot on the couch, approaching me slowly. I can tell he’s making an effort to make himself visible to me, probably not wanting a repeat of what happened during our first hug.

He doesn’t have to try hard. He’s huge, and I’m lucky my ceiling is high enough to facilitate the height of his ears. Yeah- he has to bend over to enter doorways, but at least he can usually walk around unhindered.

“You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

I can’t lie to him, letting out a little sigh as I avoid his worried stare. It hurts me to see him anxiously fret over me, I should be the one pampering him.

But I knew he wouldn’t drop it. He probably just wanted to make himself useful- but... I couldn’t tell him how important to me it is that he was just existing here. I can’t express how good it feels to have another person in my home again.

“Just... tired. I haven’t eaten in a while- but... well.”

I chuckle softly, shrugging my shoulders. I feel foolish even saying it.

“I just can’t force myself to eat.”

“Right... I’d forgotten about that. It’s been so long since I’ve even thought about it...”

Springtrap seems a bit sheepish now, awkwardly looking around our kitchen. He turns back to me, looking lost again.

“Well... may I help? What would you like?”

I immediately look up at him, shaking my head and waving off the notion of him making food for me.

“No- no, I can’t ask you to do that... I should be taking care of you.”

Springtrap pauses, his ears straightening up a little. His eyes soften, and I can feel my heart melting again.

“You’ve been taking care of me, Hawk. Let me help you, please.”

I can’t bear to look at that earnest face of his, my stomach aching so badly- and yet I can still feel butterflies as he begs me to let him show me kindness.

I just nod, holding my arm and rubbing it slowly. I feel so guilty for letting him do this for me, but he looks so genuinely happy.

“Okay... but... just something simple. A bowl of cereal is more than enough for me.”

“Hawk, you’re trembling. I hardly think that’s a wise choice.”

I purse my lips, knowing what he was saying was right. I needed to take better care of myself, but I just couldn’t force myself to. Hell, my cat ate better than I did. My self sacrificing nature always bit me in the ass, I just needed to let him in.

The thought was terrifying. He just wanted to make me lunch, for fuck’s sake- and here I was, beating myself up for it and making a mountain out of an anthill.

I look up at him, sighing quietly.

“You’re right... I... I have pancake mix. That’s easy to make...”

He nods, knowing I likely wouldn’t allow him to make anything more complex for me. I felt bad enough letting him do just this.

“It’s alright to ask for help, Hawk.”

My throat tightens. I feel like I’m being choked, immediately looking away from him. I let out a shaky breath I didn’t notice I was holding, my shoulders relaxing as I nodded slowly.

“Yeah...”

I open one of the lower cabinets and grab the mix, setting it on the counter next to the stove. I grab a bowl and a whisk as well, mixing the batter without measuring it.

I couldn’t let him do it by himself. I’d be beating myself up for days if I did, and though I could feel him staring at me- I had to help him help me. I had to.

He speaks up after a moment, now standing in front of the stove next to me.

“I... had forgotten how small everything is.”

I feel like I’m being targeted specifically in that statement, seeing as how I could barely reach his shoulders if I stood on my toes.

“Like... your cat. I felt so anxious with him in my lap- he seemed so tiny and fragile...”

I can’t help but smile at that statement.

“Don’t worry too much, Sunny’s not fragile. He’s a bit of a klutz, just you wait.” I pause for a moment. “And... he’s our cat. Everything in here is yours now, too.”

“... Everything? Are you sure...?”

I tilt my head at him, raising an eyebrow. He’s staring so intently at me... what’s he thinking?

“Well... of course. You live here now.”

He slowly smiles, turning his attention back to the pancake mix in my hands. He looks to the stove, then back to me. It’s a gas stove with a pancake griddle in the center of all of the burners, and I can’t help but chuckle at his lost expression.

“The middle knob is for the griddle.”

Springtrap nods, and reluctantly reaches for it. I notice his apprehension, watching as he flinches when the gas ignition clicks before lighting up.

“Don’t worry, it won’t burn you. It scared me when I first got it, too. Heh... just anxiety. You’ll get used to it.”

He seems comforted by my reassurance, watching my hands as I pour some chocolate chips into the batter.

He looks a bit melancholy, as if he was thinking deeply about something. I can’t tell what it is, but... it looked as if he’d remembered something.

“They always preferred chocolate chips in their pancakes, too...”

It’s so soft that I can barely hear his voice over my whisk scraping the bowl, looking over at him curiously.

“Who?”

“Oh... my apologies. Just thinking out loud.”

He smiles at me, though I can tell it’s forced. His expressiveness betrayed him this time, I can tell something’s eating away at him.

“You don’t have to tell me... but I’m always willing to listen.”

“Just... ghosts of the past, Hawk. It’s best if I let them rest.”

His words feel like a gunshot through my chest. He was obviously traumatized by something in his past- but he seems to have mostly made his peace with it.

Ghosts like that have a tendency to haunt us even when we’ve moved on, something I knew well.

I can’t respond to him, just nodding solemnly. Fuck, if I didn’t need to hear it right now too. Just... let it rest, Hawk. Move on.

I grab a spatula for him, cheered up a bit by how absolutely tiny it is in his giant paw. He can grip it just fine, it’s just so small comparatively.

“Ah... everything is... so small, Hawk. Even you, I... I feel so anxious that I might break something...”

I pout at him a little bit, tipping the batter out onto the warmed up griddle.

“Well, you’re not gonna break me, I’ve been through worse. Don’t let it worry you too much, you’re so gentle anyway...”

Springtrap smiles at that, it seems to quell his anxieties a bit. Though... I can see a twinge of concern on his face. Never mind that, I didn’t want him to worry for me.

“Is... that why you pushed me away?”

I feel another knife twist in my heart.

“You... just startled me. Please don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t help it. I... I am worried for you, Hawk. I- I still don’t think I belong here. I feel like I’m going to make things harder for you...”

“Please don’t say that.”

I didn’t even mean to say it. It just kinda slipped from my mouth, making me try to double back.

“I... I just- I just mean that... I’m glad you’re here... you don’t need to do anything for me to... to belong here.”

I feel my composure slipping through my hands, but he’s just smiling sweetly at me. It seems like my words calmed his worries, just silently standing there staring at the pancakes as they cooked.

“Thank you...”

He breaks the silence, flipping the pancakes before they can burn. He turns his attention back to me, that earnest look on his face again.

“How do you prefer them, darling?”

He didn’t realize the Freudian slip he’d just had, staring at me with a puzzled face as my mouth opens wide and my face flushes. He’s even more confused when I begin to stutter out a response, thinking a bit harder about what he’d said.

He realizes. Smiling sweetly at me, with a bit of curiosity- he stays quiet about it, waiting to see if I’d say anything about it.

“I... uh- I-I prefer them... a bit lighter...”

He notices that I don’t call him out for it. That makes him even more curious, wanting to see how far he could push it before I said something. I obviously wasn’t taking it poorly- I was just flustered.

That intrigued him. What was Hawk feeling right now, he wondered?

“Is this done enough, dear?”

I’m trying not to lose my mind at the moment. His gravelly, slightly accented voice calling me those little pet names as if it was the most natural thing in the world... I felt like my knees were about to buckle.

“Um... uh- yeah. Yeah, that’s good enough... do... you want some?”

He’s a little taken aback by the offer. Sure, he didn’t need to eat, but... perhaps he’d enjoy it. Breakfast with someone he cared about- it had been so long since he’d had something so normal happen to him.

“... That sounds lovely, actually. Is there more batter?”

I just nod at him, pouring more onto the hot griddle when he pulls the first two pancakes off of it. I’m still flustered, my eyes staring down at the designs on the floor as I avoid his gaze.

Did he mean to do it? Was he mocking me? Oh, god- what if it was just an accident and I was reading too much into it? I start to shake, holding my arms as my anxiety eats away at me-

“Hawk? Do you enjoy when I use those names for you?”

He meant it.

“Yes!”

Oh god.

That word is blurted out of my mouth unintentionally, leaving me wide eyed and surprised at my own lack of self control. He just chuckles softly, reaching over and putting a gentle hand on my shoulder.

His paws feel so soft...

“It’s okay, Hawk. Relax. It... was a slip of the tongue at first, but... you seemed to like it.”

Internally, he’s so relieved that I enjoyed it. The way I was acting after the second one, he wasn’t sure if I was upset or not. But... that made him question why I enjoyed it.

He was still denying that I could feel any type of way about him, really- not wanting to accept that I cared about him. But what kind of care was it?

Neither of us were good at this. Intimacy was terrifying and uncertain for both of us.

But... we both wanted to make it work. It was so hard to vocalize it...

“I... I do like it. Please... keep using them.”

He smiles at me, tilting his head slowly.

“I’m going to touch your face... is that okay?”

“Please.”

I must look so pathetic, practically begging him to touch me. I had forgotten how badly I wanted to be touched, loved- I wanted to experience it with him. Oh, I wanted it so badly.

He cups my cheek, prompting me to lean into his soft, fuzzy paw. He cleaned up so well- he honestly looked handsome...

Both of us quickly realize that we’re still cooking, clearing my throat softly as he moves his paw and goes to flip the pancakes.

“Springtrap... do... do you have a real name? Or do you really want me to call you that?”

He tenses a bit, but... seems to relax slowly. He was scared that I’d judge him at first- now there was no doubt that I didn’t want to cast judgment on him.

“... You can call me William, dear.”

Next Chapter ->

#this ones named after a summer camp song abt INTENSE pining #this one is so long. god #but i want their dynamic to be clear #abuse mention cw #its not graphic its just mentioned very briefly and kinda hinted at by hawk's sad wet cat demeanor #g.txt #my fics #fnaf fanfic #fnaf au #fnaf springtrap #fnaf fandom #springtrap x oc #springtrap x self insert #springtrap fic #springtrap x hawk #springtrap

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yourtamaki · 1 year ago

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rip my ribcage open (devour what’s truly yours)

zoro x f!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: tummy-pusher zoro, squirting, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, prone bone, chokehold, slight breath play, creampie, violent imagery, religious imagery, bit of aftercare.

zoro thinks you might be trying to say his name.

he’s knelt between your legs, sitting back on his haunches and rocking his hips just enough to fuck you with the fat tip of his cock. there’s a rhythm to the unsteady rise and fall of your chest. short inhale, long exhale, the same way you always sigh his name when he’s reduced you to this.

tears dotting your lashes, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth, hips bucking mindlessly trying to get him to slip in deeper.

fuck, you’re hungry for it.

zoro is not a man of many indulgences. he doesn’t allow himself to be. having too many vices can only lead to a weak mind and an even weaker will. he eats but he does not savour, he sleeps but he does not dream.

but he’d be a shit swordsman if he didn’t understand the balance in all things. denying himself all of life’s comforts would make for a rigid spirit, brittle and easily broken. so he’ll sip on some sake and enjoy its fire in his belly, he’ll nap on sunny’s deck so when he wakes, it’s to the sight of his crew set to the backdrop of the setting sun. and when the sun dips below the horizon, there’s nothing to stop him from finding you in the dark and pulling you into a hungry kiss.

that balance is what makes nights like these all the better. knowing that having you like this, spread open and vulnerable, is good for him. that you’re making him a better man, a stronger man, just by letting him take you apart and make a mess out of you. there’s no need to resist the temptation now of bending low to press his lips to your trembling ones in a slow, ravenous kiss.

you taste like need and the sweetest of sins and he licks at the roof of your mouth, knowing he’s damned himself long ago to crave you for as long as he lives.

"if you want something, you have to ask,” he says, pulling back and idly groping at your tits, pinching your nipple when you don’t answer. you throw your head back at the sudden sensation and a wild heat blooms in his chest at the sight, scorching his ribs. how easily you bare your neck for him. how thoughtlessly.

"please, zoro, please. want you deeper, i wanna feel you here,” you take his hands, sliding them down your body until they come to rest on your lower stomach. irritation, sharp and sudden, cuts through his haze.

“don’t fucking beg,” he says, low and even, “you don’t have to beg. ever.”

it’s so far beneath you to plead, he has to swallow down the growl building in the back of his throat. zoro would topple empires for you, would cut the very moon in half if you asked, and you think you have to beg him for anything?

he doesn’t wait for you to nod before he starts pushing in. it doesn’t matter if you understand yet or not, he’ll fuck it into you until you do.

there’s a moment after he’s bottomed out inside you where neither of you move a muscle. he grits his teeth from the effort of holding on to the frayed rope that is his restraint and letting you get used to the wide stretch of him. ages pass before you reach up, slowly as if to not startle the beast above you, and cup his face in your soft palm. you stroke your thumb across his cheek, just on the edge of his scar. your touch is warm and gentle and cracks something inside him wide open.

the rope slip from his fingers. he lets it.

there’s no warning, no build-up before he’s pressing both palms down on your stomach and fucking into you. you reach up to hold on to any part of him, settling around his neck, a balm on his flushed skin even as your nails dig and bite into him.

“you feel that? hmm?” his smile feels jagged and sharp, more demon than man but you only moan at the sight of it, “you feel me in there?”

it’s a strange sensation, feeling himself carve a space inside you, the push and pull. it’s filthy and more intimate than it has any right to be and he fucking loves it.

“fuck, feel you i feel—” a rough thrust cuts you off and when you catch your breath, you’re still rambling, “—so good, you’re so good.”

zoro’s been called many things in his life but good isn’t one of them. it’s never bothered him before. good men don’t claw their way up in the world and leave a trail of slaughter in their wake. good men don’t scream at the heavens and demand to be heard.

zoro is not a good man. but he can be good. to you. for you.

“breathe, baby,” he says, “don’t forget to breathe.”

he presses down a bit harder and your reaction is instantaneous, legs kicking out, the tears that have been threatening to spill over since he stuffed a pillow under your hips finally sliding down your cheeks. you take him so beautifully and something barbed wraps around his heart and squeezes at the sight, shredding him to bloody pieces.

he knows you’re close before your eyes start to flutter, can feel it building like a storm inside you and chases your pleasure with reckless abandon.

“zoro.”

short inhale, long exhale. his name a sigh on your parted lips as you clench tight around him and cum. he doesn’t stop moving for a second, doesn’t let up the pressure even as he feels you gush all over him, soaking his cock, his thighs, his stomach. his strokes stay sure and steady as he fucks you through your high.

you shudder beneath him before relaxing back into the bed and he slows to a stop to let you catch your breath. it hurts to look at you, all divine and fucked out. it’s a sight too holy for a hellbound man like him to behold but he drinks it in anyway, burns it into his mind.

what’s one more sin to a demon?

zoro slips out of you with a hiss through gritted teeth, taking a moment to admire the creamy ring around his base, your arousal and cum still dripping off him. you’ve marked him as yours and yours alone without even trying and his cock twitches at the thought.

“no why?” you whine as he pulls back further, “give it back.”

“turn over,” even as he speaks, he’s manhandling you until you’re laid out on your stomach, hips propped up with the pillow he takes care to push under you. zoro kisses down your spine before settling between your spread legs and greeting your cunt with a broad stroke of his tongue, “i ever tell you that you taste good like this?”

“like- mmm fuck,” you say, all breathy as he circles around your swollen clit, “like what?”

“stretched out,” he murmurs, “open.”

you’re past the point of words as he grabs two handfuls of your ass, spreads your sticky lips open with his thumbs and buries his tongue inside you. he savours the sweet little gasps you let you like the finest sake, groaning into your pussy as you start to rock your hips and grind your clit against him. he can’t catch a full breath, thinks he might be suffocating, and moans a bit louder.

a swarm of words bubble up hot and fast in his lungs, taking up space where breath once lived. half-formed thoughts try and fail to take shape in his mouth, weighing down the tongue that makes you writhe in the sheets.

he can’t bring himself to speak but if he could, he’d show you. zoro wants to crack his ribs open so you can see the bloody wreckage you’ve caused, let you crawl in and keep you safe next to the heart that’s always, always, been yours. he’d probably burst into flames with so much goodness inside him but that’s alright. at least he’d keep you warm.

the words stay trapped where they are though and all he can do is all he’s ever known how to. he goes to work. zoro is singleminded in his task, fingers digging into the fat of your ass to keep you still while he devours you whole and it doesn’t take long before he’s pushing you off the edge he never let you stray too far away from.

he laps at your folds until you start to squirm away, crawling up the bed and away from him. he lets you put a bit of distance between you, lulls his prey into thinking it’s escaped before he pounces. between one breath and the next, zoro’s on you, draped along your back, licking at the sweat that beads down the nape of your neck. you arch into him, pushing back against the hardness digging into your ass before he rests his weight down on you, forcing you flat on your front.

“where do you want me, baby?” he asks, kissing behind your ear, “tell me where you want me.”

in this moment and in all others, zoro would do anything you told him to. you could make him hump you like an animal until he cums and lick your skin clean or stand across the room and jack off by himself with nothing but the lingering taste of your pussy to help him get off. he’d do it and he’d do it without an ounce of shame.

“want you inside,” you slur, “wanna be full.”

his entire being in the palm of your hands and you choose to be merciful.

“you sure?” he lifts up off you just enough to get a hand around his base and nudge his tip against your clit, “not too sensitive?”

“yeah, pl- i can take it.”

his grin is all teeth when he hears you correct yourself, “that’s my fucking girl. stay still, baby. let me take care of you.”

you’re soft and slick from his spit and two orgasms and when he bottoms out all at once, it’s with a low groan in your ear that echoes behind your breathy moan. sinking back inside you feels like rapture, like something he’s done nothing to deserve but basks in anyway with an endless greed.

he wraps his arms around you, one across your front groping at your chest while the other hooks around to put you in a headlock, keeping you pressed flush to him as he starts to rock into you. zoro is quiet in his worship, purposeful, and you’re nearly as quiet in receiving it, the room filled only by your soaked cunt and ragged breathing. though you don’t say anything, he can hear you loud and clear.

short inhale, long exhale.

a holy call he’s helpless to answer.

zoro fucks you to the rhythm of his name, short, devastating thrusts with his whole weight thrown behind him. he wants to live in this moment, could spend the rest of his days with his cock dragging along your walls slow and sure, relishing the way you tighten like a vice around him every time he flexes and cuts your air off mid-gasp.

but he swore an oath at your altar and zoro has always been a man of his words.

he cums with a sigh of your name, spilling inside you for what feels like ages before he collapses over you boneless and spent, his softening cock keeping you plugged nice and full just like you asked so sweetly for.

“you okay?” he asks, pulling out as gently as he can and helping you roll over when your trembling arms make it clear you can’t do it on your own.

“mhmm,” you pull yourself up until you’re nose to nose with him. zoro holds still as you scatter kisses across his face like stardust. his temple, his scar, the corner of his mouth. there’s no order, no pattern he can discern to the affection you bestow but he accepts it the way all blessings should be received. with silent gratitude.

“nothing hurts?”

“no. but you’re carrying me to the bath.”

“okay.”

you tuck yourself into his side, reaching up to idly roll his earrings between your fingers, “and washing my hair.”

“okay.”

“and i’m gonna wash your hair.”

“okay.”

“say something else.”

he thinks for a moment, thinks of all he could never put to words and lets them stay as thoughts. instead, he meets your eyes and settles on a simple truth, “you’re beautiful.”

a smile, radiant and bright, breaks across your face. what happens, he wonders, when a demon is the cause of something as divine as your smile? it’s a question he doesn’t mind spending his life searching the answer to.