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juicykvnture · 1 month ago

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ONE OF YOUR GIRLS (2)

camboy!DickGrayson x fem!Reader

tags: AFAB reader, PiV (unprotected..), recording/livestream, exhibitionism, nicknames (angel/baby), dirty talk, light choking, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, (this is just straight up gooning)

a/n: I heard the people wanted a part 2.. (Insert Ayesha Erotica lyrics)

wc: 2.6K | Part 1 | Masterlist

Okay, your roommate is secretly a cam-boy. That’s like a totally normal part of every college experience, yeah?

One week. For one week straight you’ve been locked up in your room for as many hours as physically possible. You leave to go to class as early as you can in the mornings, hiding away from Dick as much as you can.

The fact you’re depriving yourself of seeing his gorgeous face everyday is like a crime in itself.

It makes you seem like more of a loser than you actually are. He probably thinks you’re some kind of hermit, or that you hate him.

The thought of that makes you sick.

Though, you’re not really doing anything to get yourself out of this situation.. like at all.

You’ve still been ogling him whenever you catch a glimpse of him. You’ve still been texting him in secret. Boo, you whore.

You just haven’t talked to him. Like, at all.

And how could you even go about doing that?

You can’t just look him straight in the eyes and tell him it’s him you dream about, it’s his cams you’ve been watching, it’s his name you’ve been panting under your breath every single fucking night, praying to every deity that he can’t hear you.

Some weird, fucked up ans twisted, perverted little part of you kinda wishes that he’d find out.

You’re overworked and underfucked.

You imagine what it would be like if he just walked in, what would he say? Would he be mad? Or would he just be too pent up over the fact you’ve been leading him on, taking matters into his own hands and bending you over and-

“Hey,”

You’re snapped out of your internal ramble by his voice, tilting your head up from your cup of tea, now clutched tightly in your hand.

You thought he was going out tonight.

��You been hiding from me or something?”

“Hiding? No that’s stupid, why would I? I totally have like zero reason to do that-” You mumble, sputtering slightly on your tea, letting out an awkward huff.

Wow, smooth.

“Kay, I’m just sayin’ I don’t bite.” He chuckles under his breath as he leans back against the kitchen counter, his hands tucked into his pockets.

See, you’d have no problem if he did bite. You also have no problem with the view in front of you at the moment but you’re trying to have an ounce of decorum, nodding as you take another sip of your tea.

Definitely not eyeing up his happy trail.

Fuck, it’s way better in real life.

“Anyway,” He yawns, pushing himself off of the counter.

“M’gonna head to bed, see ya.” Dick murmurs, brushing past you as he heads to his room, his eyes narrowing slightly as his focus locks on your necklace for a moment.

Where has he seen that Angel charm before?

@BLUUDHAVEN: can I call u? ;)

@BLUUDHAVEN: I’m gonna be on cam tonight anyway if you’re too tired!!

He’s so sweet to the point you actually want to sob or something. You don’t trust yourself to reply. Not with only a thin wall between your two bedrooms.

@BLUUDHAVEN HAS STARTED A STREAM

You slam your laptop shut, arms crossed over your chest as you stare at the ceiling. You feel like a fucking creep, again. It’s not even intentional!

With a sigh, you decide to get a drink, silently cursing yourself for the mess you’ve gotten yourself into, your socked feet gently padding against the linoleum floor on the way to the kitchen. You need a glass of water and a damn bullet to the head or something.

The soft glow of blue LEDs from his bedroom door makes you pause.

His door is also more than slightly ajar, how fucking convenient.

You hesitate, feeling like a total weirdo as you stand in the hallway, fidgeting with the charms on your necklace.

One look won’t hurt, right?

He’s leaned back in his chair, lazily running his thumb over the hem of his t-shirt, his head tilted to the side as he watches the chat start to spam through a half-lidded gaze, letting out a small huff.

His setup catches your attention.

So he wasn’t joking about this full-on camboy thing then? Last week was just on his laptop but this time he’s got a mic and everything.

Oh, and one more thing catches your attention.

The black mask covering his eyes.

So this is his routine?

You swallow, standing in his doorway like a total fucking creep, your fingers subconsciously curling into the fabric of your shorts.

He can’t see you, thank god.

He’s too busy talking to the stream, letting out small laughs at all the thirsty shit they’re saying, slowly pulling off his shirt.

He’s a showman at heart, clearly. Every move he makes is practised to tease, lazily pulling at the drawstring of his sweatpants.

It makes you remember that night you first video called him, shifting your legs slightly as you stand there, the heat between your legs all too familiar.

You’re trying not to drool like an idiot, okay?

He’s hot. You fucking know he’s hot, and by the looks of it, he knows it too.

You’re not listening to what he’s yapping into his mic, you don’t care. Your dumbstruck gaze is on his hands and how they slowly move down his body.

200 WATCHING

Biting your lip, you lean closer to the doorframe, pressing your thighs together even harder, clutching the frame and-

- - CREAKKK - -

Your heart stops.

No - no - no - no fuck, no.

Your mouth is agape, your feet don’t move, like you’re stuck in that doorframe.

It’s just silence, dead fucking silence.

Until you hear a small huff come from him in his desk chair, gripping the fabric of his sweatpants a little tighter.

The mask hides his eyes, but you can feel his gaze burning through you, watching your form in his monitor's reflection.

278 WATCHING

“Nice of you to join us, Angel.”

You open your mouth to speak again, but you’re unable to force a single word out, only offering a meek, panicked shake of your head.

“No?” He coos, hooking his thumb into his boxers as he leans back in his chair, tilting his head slightly to look at you.

“You’re telling me that wasn’t you?”

305 WATCHING

Every part of you is screaming internally, just begging you to turn around and run out of that room, hide under your bed and act like this never happened.

But ultimately, your throbbing cunt between your legs wins, resulting in a shaky step into his room.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out, then?” He tilts his head back, rolling the chair slightly so he’s closer to you, now shamelessly man-spreading with his cock twitching in his sweats.

“Didn’t mean to.” You offer, trying to act like this is all well and normal but your hardened nipples under your shirt give you away.

340 WATCHING

“Didn’t mean to?”

His eyes drift down to your chest for a moment, his legs moving further apart as he pulls you by the wrist to stand between his thighs, reaching a hand up to inspect the Angel wings on your necklace, and then up to your face, stroking his thumb over your flushed cheek.

“Didn’t mean to what? Lie to me for a month straight? Or watch me like a little creep?” He’s almost cooing, you’re trying to hate it but you can’t bring yourself to, not when he’s drumming his fingers against the top of your shorts, just to watch you press your thighs together harder.

You have half a mind to crawl under that desk to apologise, only to see if he’d turn that stupid stream off and fuck you as he promised repeatedly over text.

“Look, if you’re mad at me or something just turn that off and-“

413 WATCHING

“Nah,” he cuts in, hands grasping your hips to pull you back against him, one hand under your thighs to force you to sit down on his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder as his hands slide up your shirt, mouthing at your neck.

“Now why would I turn this off?”

You’re fucked.

Physically, mentally, in any way possible, you just are.

“Shit,” You’re not sure if he means to pant as he feels how fucking wet you are, throbbing around him with every upward jerk of his hips.

He’s got your thighs spread open, arm locked around your torso, you literally cannot bring yourself to move, your head falling forward with a choked-out whine.

“No, no,”

You’re barely able to recognise his voice anymore with how wrecked he is, his hand sliding up to your neck to tilt your head back up.

“Nuh-uh. You keep your eyes on that camera, Angel.” He murmurs, into your shoulder, giving your neck a small squeeze, your pulse slamming under his palm.

450 WATCHING

“Don’t you look away.” He instructs, and it’s not a suggestion, punctuated by another upward thrust of his hips, clutching the little Angel charm around your neck tighter.

“C’mon, you’re my pretty girl.”

That sounds better than it should.

You know you’re not. You know that this is literally just a job to him, he’s still wearing that stupid fucking mask over his eyes, and none of this is real.

You’re a glorified notch in his belt, another one of his girls, but he’s fucking you like you could actually mean something.

“Shut up-” You pant though it's half-hearted, and the both of you know it, his grip on you tightening as he fucks you harder, his cock throbbing inside you.

“Don’t act like you give a fuck,” You mutter, trying to hold on to some semblance of restraint, but your voice cracks, it’s all happening too fast.

Despite incessantly pestering you to do so, he hasn’t looked up at that screen. Not once.

All he can do is offer a shaky laugh, his fingers sliding to your clit, rubbing quick, messy circles that make your head spin.

“I don’t give a fuck? That’s what you think?” He’s biting into your shoulder, his fingers giving your pussy a firm slap before resuming their circling.

Your chest is heaving, biting hard into your hand to muffle your cries, shame and embarrassment as high as your arousal that you’re letting him do this, splitting your cunt open on his stupid fucking livestream, your thighs quivering as you try to close them at least a little bit, just to make yourself feel better about this.

It’s no use, his hands slide down to pry your legs back open, lifting you up and then slamming you back down like you’re one of those sex toys he usually does his live streams with.

Again, another wet smack.

“Shh,” He’s pressing his lips to the back of your neck, as if he’s soothing you. Your un-shed tears cling to your bottom lashes as shaky pants fall from your parted lips. You’re not entirely sure why, maybe it’s the embarrassment, maybe it’s the same, maybe it’s the fact he’s fucking you real hard and you don’t want any of it to stop.

You knew his cock would be good in real life but fuck, nothing could’ve actually prepared you for this.

You’re shaking your head, trying to hide your face in your hand but he stops you the second he sees you try, lacing his fingers with yours.

“C’mon, don’t-“ he rasps,

“Don’t you fucking hide from me, Angel.”

No hiding your face, no hiding your sounds, no more hiding in your room behind your laptop.

You stare at the screen, it’s like your heart stops.

600 WATCHING

“You’re still an attention whore,” you grit out, back arching against him.

“Me?” He has the gall to let out a breathless laugh, slamming you down against him harder, his half-lidded eyes drifting down to the number of viewers.

630 WATCHING

“Your slutty cunt seems to like it as much as I do.”

Unfortunately, that makes you throb around him to your own utter dismay.

“Shut up,” Your head is falling back against his shoulder, pulling your hand free from his grasp to try to yank on his hair or something, anything to get your own back.

But that just results in the mask falling from his eyes, his hand moving to give your sobbing pussy another smack.

“Fuck, you’re wet.”

He doesn’t even care that they can see his face anymore, he’s not thinking. Neither are you.

770 WATCHING

He may be annoying, arrogant, all those lovely words that you so dearly called him last time.

But unfortunately, he’s right.

He’s grabbing at your tits through your shirt, mouthing at your shoulder, your neck, anywhere his mouth can reach, his black hair a mess and clinging to his face.

820 WATCHING

“Fucking knew it, baby,” Dick pants as he gives your pussy another smack, it’s lighter though, considering his hands are so fucking shaky, his cock so deep you swear you can feel it in your throat.

“This pretty pussy really does have a humiliation kink.”

It’s all coming back to him now, all those nights he spent with his hand desperately pumping his cock, acting like it was you, oblivious to the fact you were a paper thin wall away from him all along.

He’s grinning, fucking delirious as you cry out, your nails digging into his forearm, leaving little red marks on his tanned skin.

You’re spaced out, babbling. You’re tilting your head to the side like you’re trying to kiss him but you’re unable to move enough to crane your head up properly.

Fuck, you’re so much hotter in real life. He doesn’t know why he’s done all these streams alone, all these nights alone when you would’ve been there with him all along.

You’re cumming, he knows you are.

But he doesn’t let up, arms firmly wrapped around your waist, not letting you move away from him, not for one second.

“C’mon Angel, don’t cry.” his hand moves to the back of your head, staring down at you through his dark lashes, the flush on your face and the tears down your cheeks making him whine like a whore, bumping his forehead against you in a haphazard attempt of locking your lips together.

And when he does manage to kiss you, he fucking cums on the spot, his shaky hand gripping your neck as his hips stutter, the way he whines out your name is nothing short of desperate.

His hips snap up, thrusting harder into you than you knew possible, making you whine as his cock pulses, thick and twitching deep in your pussy. It all floods you, ropes of his cum coating your insides, dripping around him buried inside you.

His own head falls forward, panting into your shoulder with shaky, sloppy little kisses. He’s rambling, you can barely make out what he’s saying. It’s something about how pretty you are, how good you take him.

1K WATCHING

More than he’s ever had on one stream.

“Fuck, Angel,”

He fumbles to disconnect the camera, not giving a fuck as it hits the carpet, his body as shaky as yours.

“I think-“

He’s panting, hands running over where his fingers left harsh indents moments ago, trying to soothe them.

He’s still all shaky, disheveled as he presses a chaste kiss to your temple.

“I think they like you more than me.”

a/n: RAAGGAHAGAHAHAHDHHDHRGHERRRR

thank you for reading!!

I’ll see myself out.

#dc comics #dc x reader #dc universe #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x fem!reader #nightwing x you #nightwing x reader #nightwing smut #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #batfam x reader #Spotify #batboys x reader #dick grayson smut #nightwing

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smut-anarchy · 6 months ago

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Crybaby

Soft!Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some mild swears, nothing spicy... for now.

Summary: Every time Mattheo sees you cry and falls in love with you for it.

A/N: This is my first fic EVER! I was too excited to get it proof read by my bestie so all mistakes are my own. Check the tags at the end for a funny surprise.

Word Count: 7,300+ (Sorry, I went crazy)

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Mattheo had never been one of those who could be influenced by tears. With who his father was he learned very quickly as a child that tears equated to weakness, and weakness was never allowed.

Even at times where previous flings had sobbed after being tossed aside or cried for cuddles after sex, it didn’t move him. After all, he’d always made it clear that he wasn’t a romantic. He’d have his fun and move on, he never gave any indication that it would be more meaningful than that. Because of this he’d been called a “cold hearted bastard” more times than he could count.

Which is why the first time he saw you cry he swore something was wrong with him. Seeing your puffy, red cheeks, your quivering, plump bottom limp and wide, watery eyes he felt like someone sent a stinging hex right to his gut. Your eyes were trained right on a laughing Enzo.

Now it wasn’t completely uncommon for Enzo to make a girl cry. After all, he too would flirt his way into one of their classmates beds from time to time. Though Enzo prided himself on having a kind, prince-like persona publicly, so he kept all of his trysts and crying ex-lovers deeply hidden from public view. So it was unusual for Enzo to be seen with a crying girl in public, right in the middle of the hallway near the potions classroom.

The closer Mattheo got the clearer he could see that you had not actually cried yet. Your eyes were full of unshed tears, and by the look of your puffed up cheeks and bitten bottom lip you were clearly attempting not to cry. Oddly to him, this didn’t lessen the weird sensation in his stomach. It only made him slightly angry at his friend for a reason he couldn’t even name.

Your eyes flickered to him for a brief moment before settling back on a smiling Enzo.

“Fine,” you said in a defeated tone, “You win. You can borrow my notes for Transfiguration. But this is the last time Enzo!”

Enzo’s smile widened as he picked you up in an embrace and spun you around. Immediately your face brightened and your giggles echoed in the empty hallway.

“That’s my favorite Hufflepuff!” Enzo teased, ruffling your hair, “Next time just agree before you lose another bet and turn into a little crybaby.”

Your giggles turned into a playful pout, “Hey! You cheated! You have longer legs than I do! And the staircase moved on my way down! You’d cry too if you ran as much as I did and still lost.”

Enzo let out a chuckle and shook his head, “Well maybe don’t propose a race next time. It was your idea after all. I play quidditch love, there isn’t a world in which you win against me.”

“Whatever, I’ll win the next bet, you’ll see!”

You stuck your tongue out at Enzo and turned around, walking away from Enzo much more cheerfully than Mattheo expected for a girl whose eyes were bursting with tears when he walked into this hallway.

“In your dreams love!” Enzo called after you, earning a swift middle finger from behind your back. Mattheo stopped behind Enzo, pure confusion over witnessing the entire interaction between you two. The assumption that you were one of Enzo’s fangirls or jilted ex-lovers was clearly off the table, but he still couldn’t make sense of the welled up tears in your eyes.

“Girl trouble Enz?” Mattheo hummed, curiosity thoroughly peaked by you and the strange feelings you brought on.

Enzo, now aware that Mattheo had witnessed the entire exchange smirked, “Nah, nothing like that. She’s just fun to tease, is all.” And with that Enzo ducked into the Potions classroom, leaving Mattheo not entirely satisfied with the answer. Nonetheless, he brushed off his gut feelings and whatever thoughts swirled in his head. He likely wouldn’t have an opportunity to interact with you again, he and his friends never kept one girl around too long, even if she was entertaining.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he followed after Enzo to their table in class.

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When Mattheo entered the Slytherin common room after smoking in the Astronomy Tower he was not prepared to find you on the couch with Enzo, this time actually crying. Though you were also laughing hysterically because Enzo happened to be tickling your feet.

“How dare you! How dare you say I’m not your favorite Slytherin!” Enzo chided, gleeful smile on his face as he tickled the sock covered soles of your feet. He slowed to a stop, holding your ankles in his lap to keep you from escaping.

“I didn’t say you weren’t!” You giggled, voice breathless because of your laughter, “I said I don’t know the other Slytherins so I can’t pick a favorite!”

Enzo smirked, “Not good enough!”, and with that he resumed tickling your feet. Your laughter and squeals bouncing around the common room.

Mattheo couldn’t help but stare, he and the guys never brought girls to the dorms, and certainly never sat together in the common room. Your yellow skirt and robe were a beacon in the dark and cold that was the Slytherin common room, Salazar Slytherin himself would have a conniption if he saw a giggling Hufflepuff on the couch. And yet, there you were with Enzo, both laughing as if this was not peculiar at all.

“Say it! Say I’m your favorite!” Enzo demanded, his fingers still torturing the pads of your feet.

“Okay!” You laughed, “Enzo is my favorite Slytherin!” You were attempting to wiggle your ankles free from Enzo’s grasp and escape the tickling torture but Enzo kept an iron grip, not satisfied with your answer.

“And?”

“And I’ll always share my notes with him!” You squealed, completely out of breath from all the laughter. Enzo, seemingly satisfied with your answer finally released your feet, which you immediately tucked under your lap, still wheezing from laughter.

“Enzo,” you huffed, “You’re a spoiled brat, you know that?”

“You love it, crybaby.” Enzo winked. His head turned and noticed Mattheo staring at them, still trying to make sense of the scene before him. “Mattheo! Come here, meet my little Hufflepuff!”

Mattheo strode over and sat on the chair opposite to them, eyes flickering between the two of them. The addition of his presence made you seem more shy now, as if you were embarrassed to be caught with Enzo like this, you refused to make eye contact with him and your cheeks were a little blushed.

“Y/N this is Mattheo, Mattheo this is Y/N. She’s my transfiguration partner and the cutest girl in Hogwarts.”

Your blush seemed to bloom even redder from the compliment. But your eyes shyly made contact with him and a soft smile graced your face.

“Hi, ignore Enzo, he’s just trying to get into my good graces after tickle torturing me and making me tutor him for two hours.”

Mattheo muttered a low ‘hello’ and quietly trudged to his room, door slamming with much more force than he intended. His heart was pounding and he felt surge of envy towards Enzo.

Enzo was right, you were cute, and even though your face was streaked with laughter induced tears and wild hair from wiggling on the couch, Mattheo thought you looked adorable. He’d never thought that tears could be cute before, but there you were with a soft smile and bubbling laughter. These thoughts and feelings were all new to him, it made him feel suffocated and embarrassed, but he was Mattheo Riddle for Salazar’s Sake! Mattheo Riddle doesn’t run from anything, let alone cute girls. Yet he knew he couldn’t just sit there under your pretty gaze and risk making a fool of himself. Enzo would never let him live it down.

Outside in the common room he could hear you ask Enzo if you said something wrong. Now he felt like an asshole, of course you were too sweet to think he was the problem. Mattheo closed his eyes and flopped onto his bed. He could hear Enzo comfort you, saying ‘Mattheo’s just an ass’ and offering to walk you back to your dorm.

For whatever reason, hearing that made him sort of agitated. He wanted to walk you to your dorm, and he’d be his usual charming self and make you laugh and blush, then you’d direct your smile at him and maybe that’d make him feel better. Maybe he’d even kiss you, and that thought warmed him in a different way. Mattheo groaned, just thinking of kissing you burned his mind with other ideas, less innocent things with you, where your sweet, shy smile turned into something sultry and pleading, he could feel his dick harden and more thoughts bloomed, each one more tantalizing than the last.

Mattheo’s door opened and Enzo walked in with Theo following behind. Theo just looked at him, nodding casually before turning to his side of the room, but Enzo’s eyes were dancing with mischief, a Cheshire grin already etched into his face.

“Very smooth, Matty-boy.” Enzo teased.

Mattheo fixed him with a glare, he hated when anyone called him Matty. “Don’t call me that, and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Enzo’s smile widened, eyes alight, “Oh no? You don’t want to talk about how cute, little Y/N said one sentence to you and you ran off?”

Theo’s head shot up at that, looking between his two dorm mates with mild interest. Theo always had an uncanny way of reading Mattheo, which right now really irked him since Enzo was stirring the pot.

“I didn’t run off, I’m tired.” Mattheo grumbled, “Why did you even bring her here? We don’t bring flings here.” He had a feeling there was no such relationship between you and Enzo, but he couldn’t help but try and fish for more information.

“You brought a girl here?” Theo asked incredulously, his interest now fully invested.

Enzo rolled his eyes, “She’s not a fling, we’re friends. We were doing homework together after we got kicked out of the library.”

“Didn’t seem like homework when you were tickling her.” Mattheo grumbled, the memory flashing in his mind with a new wave of annoyance.

“You were tickling a girl here?” Theo echoed.

“Jealous?” Enzo directed at Mattheo before he turned to Theo, “Theo, she’s a Hufflepuff and so much fun to mess with. It’s not like that.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I flirted with her?” Theo drawled. Mattheo’s head snapped to Theo, he could feel acid in his throat thinking of Theo flirting with you. Theo’s eyes were already on him, eyebrow quirked, his expression knowing. Mattheo glared back at him and turned away, he knew he shouldn’t care what Theo or Enzo did with you, but he did, and that pissed him off more.

Enzo laughed wholeheartedly, “Sure, but if you’re not serious she’ll sniff out your bullshit. When I first met her I flirted with her for her notes and she stepped on my foot so hard I had to go to Madam Pomfrey!”

Theo chuckled, “Alright, so she’s off limits then.”

“You’re fucking right she is. I actually do want to be friends with her, I don’t need you assholes scarring her for life with your flirting. It’s already going to be an uphill battle with how hellish Draco and Pansy can be.”

“So we’ll be seeing more of her?” Theo questioned, and for once Mattheo was glad for Theo’s inquisitive nature, the same question burning in his mind. He wanted to see more of Y/N, his mind flickering back to those not so innocent thoughts.

“Yeah, probably.” And with that, the conversation seemed to be over, Mattheo’s lack of talking not going unnoticed by his two friends. They shared a look, coming to the exact same seemingly impossible conclusion: Mattheo had a crush.

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Enzo’s casual affirmation was an understatement, as the next day he invited his Hufflepuff to sit with them in the Great Hall at breakfast. She was smiling up at Enzo when he brought her over, then turning her smile to all of them at the table. She shot Mattheo a shy smile and wave before settling between Enzo and Blaise.

Pansy and Draco both offering indifferent greetings before turning to each other and continuing their conversation. Theo, Blaise and you began an intense discussion about potions, Enzo offering a comment here and there while he ate breakfast. Mattheo could only look around at his friends in confusion, his group not known to be friendly with people outside of Slytherin, or even with others in Slytherin for that matter. Draco and Pansy being the worst of two but they barely even acknowledged you and continued what they were doing. Blaise and Theo were known to be standoffish and yet here they were joking with you about potions.

“They know her, dumbass.”

Mattheo’s eyes shot to Enzo across from him, his face looking smug. Everyone else was so wrapped up in their conversations they didn’t hear what Enzo had whispered.

“What?” Mattheo asked.

“You look confused,” Enzo clarified, stopping to take a bite of his Apple, “They all know her, she’s been in all of our classes since second year.”

Mattheo nodded in understanding, eyes flickering back to the sweet Hufflepuff, who had now drawn Pansy and Draco into the conversation, the five of them debating whether or not Professor Snape used shampoo. Her face was glowing with happiness, every time she laughed he could see the flutter of her full lashes. His mind echoed the strange desire to count each lash.

He liked her laughing. The two times he’d seen her teary he thought she’d been cute, the frustration tears from chasing Enzo and the tears from laughing too hard, it was easy to find her adorable, but seeing her carefree and laughing filled his chest with yearning, he wanted her light to shine on him, even just for a moment. Yes, he much preferred her like this, hopefully he wouldn’t have to see her cry for a long while.

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Mattheo didn’t know how many different ways someone could cry until he met you.

Now fully adopted into his friend group he’s seen you cry over something with each of his friends and it confused him. He always assumed crying meant a person felt sad, that there were no other reasons to cry. The first time he saw tears in your eyes he added exhaustion as an acceptable reason to cry. Then he added laughter after the common room tickle incident. He figured that’d be it.

Until he found you and Pansy swaddled in blankets in her room listening to a muggle artist named Olivia Rodrigo and eating ice cream. He’d only stopped by to return a book he borrowed from Pansy the week before, he knocked and the door cracked open and he saw your tear streaked face and Pansy huddled on the floor, her face was turned away from him but he heard her sniffles.

He fumbled out an explanation about the book and you accepted it from him with a small smile. After the door had closed he heard the music blast to full volume.

He’d never thought Pansy would ever cry, she’d always felt like such expressions were beneath her. He was also very much confused on why you were crying, which made him worried something had happened to both of you. It wasn’t until later that Theo and Enzo told him that Pansy and Luna had broken up and you had decided some girl time was much needed to “feel your feelings” and listen to sad songs.

He’d never considered sympathy crying, but there you were with Pansy, sharing her pain. He admired you for it, your kindness knowing no limits.

The next day Pansy threatened to cut off his dick if he ever told anyone he’d seen her cry, though he was honest and said he actually hadn’t seen anything, and she seemed comforted by that fact. After Pansy seemed to be lighter almost, and she became as protective of you as Enzo, which became clear after Adrian Pucey cornered you in the hallway to harass you for a date. Enzo broke his nose and Pansy sent a hex that had Adrian vomiting hair clumps for a week. Mattheo would deny it but he also paid Adrian a visit after the hex had worn off and threatened a whole lot worse than a broken nose and a gross hex if Adrian so much as breathed in your direction.

The lust Mattheo felt for you still burned but there was something else, something new to him. Something that made him want to comfort you and protect you, to have you look for him for safety. Now, he didn’t just want your body, he wanted your undivided attention.

Mattheo tried to brush off these thoughts. He was no romantic, you were too sweet and nice to get wrapped up in something with him. As soon as it ended, you’d be crushed and Pansy and Enzo would likely make him suffer for hurting you. He told himself he just felt this way because you were friends, and friends is what you’d have to stay to be safe from him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Quidditch hardly interested you, Mattheo found out. Occasionally you volunteered with Madam Pomfrey and you’d seen enough quidditch injures to give you too much anxiety to watch the game. So whenever he and the boys played you’d skip up to them with boxes of baked goods to wish them luck and left on your merry way to watch the infirmary so Madam Pomfrey could supervise the game.

Surprisingly, Draco had been won over through his stomach. His indifference morphed into a kind of bland acknowledgement until he’d gotten the first good luck treats of the season, then he became outright friendly towards you. But when he’d caught the snitch the first time that year you’d made the whole team a whole fleet of chocolate lava cakes and candied fruit. Draco had sworn all of it was for him but after that he had taken on a kind of pseudo-brother relationship with you.

Conversely, you and Blaise bonded over your distinguished and varied adoration of books, often times swapping between yourselves. Blaise alleged that you were the only one he could read around because you weren’t “a distracting idiot” like Enzo and Draco or “an eternal gossip” like Pansy, but Mattheo could see that Blaise just had a soft spot for you like everyone in the group. Every time they went to Hogsmeade together you and Blaise would peel off to Flourish and Blotts, always coming back with more books. Of course, Blaise being chivalrous meant you never carried your own books despite your protests. The more time they spent in Hogsmeade the longer your books would get passed around to be carried until they always landed in Mattheo’s hands. Though he didn’t mind because you would smile sweetly at him when they returned to Hogwarts and thanked him for carrying your books.

Yes, Draco and Blaise had become like brothers to you. So when Madam Pomfrey rushed them to the infirmary both bruised with multiple broken bones Mattheo had seen all the color drain from your face.

None of the team was allowed to be in the infirmary so the last thing he could see was your crushed expression and tears welling up in your eyes. Theo, Pansy, Enzo and him had paced outside the hallway until Madam Pomfrey had shooed them away to go rest, telling them they could visit in the morning.

Mattheo had hardly slept the entire night. His two friends unconscious and battered and your crestfallen face had haunted him. As soon as he could reasonably leave the dorm he rushed to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips upon seeing him, knowing he had not rested but allowed him to visit anyway, despite it still being too early.

Draco and Blaise laid in their beds, looking much better than when they’d arrived. Whatever Madam Pomfrey had given them was slowly repairing the bones and easing the bruising on their bodies, their sleeping faces looked peaceful so it was clear they weren’t in pain. In between the two of their beds was you, huddled into yourself on a chair.

Hearing Mattheo approach had made you lift your head from the floor. Your eyes were puffy from exhaustion, your usual bright smile gone and replaced by a mournful frown. You were wearing the same clothes from yesterday so he knew you’d stayed by their side all night and likely not slept.

He stood in front of you, not sure what to say and as he looked at you he saw fresh tears gather in your eyes and your lip was trembling. Before he could say anything you’d lept from the chair and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly as silent sobs wracked your body.

Mattheo had never been hugged like this. He was fairly certain he’d never been hugged ever. But here you were, clinging to him and crying into his chest. His heart ached feeling your tears soak into his shirt, you couldn’t keep your sobs silent anymore, now fully weeping on him. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours.

He just held you as you bawled. Though this situation was less than ideal it felt good that he could be here for you, comforting you. Your body was enveloped in his and he was reminded how small you were, so fragile but so strong at the same time. He wondered how long you’d held yourself together before he got here. That thought made him embrace you tighter, at least he could be here for you now. He told himself he’d keep holding you until you were ready to let go.

Your sobs had turned into little whimpers and sniffles, but you didn’t let go of him. Your head stirred underneath him and he looked down at you, seeing you staring up at him. Your wide eyes glassy and cheeks red, dried tear tracks on your face. The word beautiful flashed through his mind, somehow no matter what you did you always managed to look perfect to him.

“T-thanks Matty,” you voice quivered, “Er, I mean Mattheo.” Your cheeks were already red from crying, though Mattheo desperately wanted to believe they got a little bit pinker.

“You can call me Matty.” His voice was somewhat hoarse and raspy from fatigue. Her lips quirked up slightly and then she sighed and closed her eyes.

She slowly unwrapped her arms from him and dropped them to her side, looking back at Draco and Blaise. His body felt empty and cold after you let go, he felt the urge to pull you back but stifled it, as exhaustion was currently winning over his body.

Mattheo looked around and saw a spare blanket and two pillows. He quickly grabbed them, dropping them on the floor between the two beds with his friends. He sat on the floor, with one pillow behind his head against the wall. He pat the spot next to him and down you came, sitting next to him with the other pillow behind your head. He spread the blanket over the two of you and your head came to rest against his shoulder. His eyes closed and then sleep claimed the both of you.

He woke up to a flick on his forehead. He was still propped up against the wall with you ully leaned against his body, still dozing. Draco stood in front of him, the obvious perpetrator of the flick against his head, he was changed out of the hospital clothing but had various bandages and wraps on his body. Blaise was next to him leaning against the hospital bed he’d been spent the night in in, displaying a similar number of bandages. Both of them wearing smirks on their faces aimed at Mattheo and the Hufflepuff curled against him.

“Cozy?” Draco teased.

Mattheo rolled his eyes with a smile, clearly his friends were alright if they were feeling up to making fun of him.

“She stayed here all night for you dopes and we were tired,” Mattheo grunted, “Clearly you’re both feeling better though.”

His friend’s teasing smirks fell and they looked guiltily at the sleeping girl.

“Y’know she’s going to fuss over us when she wakes up.” Blaise admitted, Draco nodded with a sigh.

“She’ll probably cry.” Draco sighed. Not one of the three boys were looking forward to seeing their friend cry.

“I’ve gotta start carrying around some tissues for her,” Mattheo blurted. Blaise and Draco laughed at that, nodding in agreement and joking the whole group should start carrying some.

The boys’ laughter stirred the Hufflepuff and she blinked her tired eyes open. At seeing Blaise and Draco awake and standing in front of her she shot right up, discarding the blanket on the floor.

“Blaise! Draco! Oh thank Merlin! How are you feeling? Are you supposed to be standing up? Do you need water? I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey to clean your bandages!” You rattled off, mind clearly spinning off with things to help the two injured Quidditch players. Luckily Blaise grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts.

“We’re fine. Madam Pomfrey is letting us go today. We’re coming back everyday for the next week for the medicine and check ups.” Blaise seemed to sooth you with this, you nodded absentmindedly. Without your brain taking over you really looked at Draco and Blaise and, just as the boys predicted, you started shedding tears. You grabbed both boys and pulled them towards you, both giving you a half hug as you cried. Through your sobs you started babbling your relief about how they were both okay and making them promise to never have to come here half comatose they way they did.

In the span of a couple of hours your waterworks had turned from fear to relief and Mattheo was glad to see his friends being fussed over by someone so sweet and caring. Your tears were short lived, as Blaise and Draco did their best to make you smile. Your sniffling turned to giggles when Draco’s stomach made a loud gurgle and he moaned about being starving, in typical dramatic Malfoy fashion.

You had stepped away to thank Madam Pomfrey for allowing you to stay and taking care of your friends. Though the older woman swore it was her job to care for all students and softly chided you for sleeping on the floor even she seemed to fall victim to your charm, hurrying you out the infirmary and promising to see you next time you volunteered.

“Mr. Riddle, a word please.” Madam Pomfrey said before he could follow you, Draco and Blaise out the door. He nodded to his friends that he’d catch up with them, trying not to think too hard about your worried look.

“I do try not to meddle in my student’s affairs,” Madam Pomfrey started, “But my dear apprentice has been here since midday yesterday and hasn’t eaten anything or slept, aside from your two hour nap on the floor,” the older woman gave a quick glare, “so if you’d please make sure your girlfriend eats and goes straight to bed, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Mattheo nodded dumbstruck, a satisfied Madam Pomfrey led him out the door.

Girlfriend. Madam Pomfrey thought you and Mattheo were dating. Mattheo once found dating any one repulsive, but he thought about your sweet smiles and angelic laughter and suddenly the idea of dating was inviting, so long as he was dating you. And that was terrifying thought, Mattheo didn’t think himself boyfriend material, but the idea of seeing you date anyone else, or Merlin forbid one of his friends, made him nauseous. He conceded that maybe these feelings would fade after some time, after all, you didn’t give him any indication that you wanted to be more.

Taking Madam Pomfrey’s words seriously he met up with you, Blaise and Draco. After all four of you were fed he suggested they all get rest, Draco and Blaise didn’t argue, their exhaustion kicking in from their injuries, but you pouted, not wanting to go back to your own dorm alone. Mattheo wasn’t immune to your puppy dog eyes so he offered his own bed so you could be with everyone. Draco and Blaise shared a knowing look, but you beamed up at him and happily trotted along with them to their dorms.

Enzo and Theo were still sleeping, likely to be out until afternoon so as quietly as they could Blaise and Draco went to their own beds, passing out shortly after pulling their blankets around their bodies.

You shed your large yellow knit sweater and yawned, smiling sleepily at Mattheo. He smiled and tilted his head to his bed, offering it to the kindly Hufflepuff. After removing her shoes she slipped under the covers, he could tell she was struggling to stay awake.

“Are you coming to bed too?”

Her question made his neck feel hot, she looked at his innocently, eyes fluttering. If he got in that bed with her, he knew he’d never let go of whatever feelings were developing for her. He slowly shook his head, ready to lie to her and say he wasn’t tired, that he was going to go shower or study or literally anything other than get into his bed with her.

“Please Matty?” You pouted. Merlin, he was a goner. He sighed softly and slipped under the covers with you, trying to keep a respectful distance. This whole situation had his body burning and mind in overdrive. You smiled happily and let out a small giggle, wishing him goodnight and then allowing sleep to take you.

Truthfully, he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. His mind and body kicked into chaos at the proximity of the beautiful Hufflepuff. But he was actually tired, and your soft snores helped him relax and he was able to fall asleep as well.

That sleep was short-lived, as he only slept for about two hours. When he woke up you were completely tucked into his body, still snoring, with his arms wrapped around you. Luckily, everyone else was still completely knocked out. Against his urges he detached himself from your cuddling, thanking whatever higher power that no one witnessed the intimate moment, and slipped into the bathroom for a cold shower to cool his fevered skin.

The next day, he went to Hogsmeade and picked up a single green handkerchief with a snake and his initials embroidered into the fabric. He’d never tell anyone but he always kept it in his pocket, just in case.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mattheo knew Theo didn’t care for his birthday, after his mother had passed his father became cruel and he never had another birthday. When Enzo had mentioned it in passing at dinner, Theo had told you himself he didn’t celebrate it.

Mattheo, now attuned to your expressions, saw a glimmer of sadness flickering behind your eyes, followed by a flash of determination. You hadn’t said much after that, but he saw the gears in your head turning.

A week later on Theo’s birthday Enzo had dashed into the common room, asking all of them to follow him to the Room of Requirement. The whole walk there was tense, Mattheo could tell by Theo’s expression that if it was a big party he was going to be pissed. You were mysteriously missing most of the week, or dashing away quickly so he assumed you had planned something, with Enzo’s help of course.

When they pushed into the room there was no party. Instead there were soft string lights hanging from the ceiling, a fire going in an intricate stone fireplace and a swirling emerald green carpet guiding them further into the room. Just a few steps further and there you were, covered in flour and wearing an apron with splashes of food stains. In front of you was a table with only seven seats set, a cacophony of steaming food on top.

Mattheo and his friends had their mouths agape, trying to take in the extravagance around them. They knew you loved to cook, having been on the receiving end of endless, delicious desserts. But never before had you cooked an actual feast for them. He looked to Theo, who was not looking at the lights or the fireplace or even the food, his deep gaze on you.

Mattheo saw a nervous smile take hold of your face and watched your hands tug on each other, clearly nervous about Theo’s reaction.

“Um… I made it,” you pushed out, “I remembered you said once you missed your Mom’s cooking so I made a bunch of Italian dishes. Y-your Mom probably made them better but I did my best. I even made Mostaccioli! I remember you said it was your favorite…” Your nervousness getting the better of you. No one said anything, all looking at Theo for his reaction.

Theo strode up to you, his face not showing anything, and he pulled you into a hug. Theo, who hated unnecessary touching, was hugging you. Mattheo even swore he heard Theo mumble “I love it.”

When your arms came around Theo’s broad back Mattheo got a glimpse of your face. Your eyes were closed, tears leaking out of the corners and a soft, peaceful smile on your face.

Mattheo didn’t know what to call these types of tears. It felt bigger than the other ones he’d seen. These tears felt sweet and sad at the same time, like you and Theo had a secret understanding. Looking at you and Theo embrace felt like a private, raw moment, but he couldn’t look away. He decided to deem these: bittersweet tears.

Theo let you go and you chuckled and wiped the sides of your eyes. You beamed at everyone and invited them to sit down and eat.

And as Mattheo sat down next to you, with a messy apron, covered in flour and a cheery grin on your face, Mattheo couldn’t help but think you more radiant than he’s ever seen you.

And even though Theo refused to share the Mostaccioli with any of them, it was easily the best meal of Mattheo’s life, love and attention baked into everything you made. His friends more carefree and happy than he’d ever seen them, laughing and joking.

When you left to get the cake you made that was cooling by the room’s kitchen area Theo leaned over to him and whispered, “If you don’t make a move soon, I’m going to marry that girl.” Mattheo froze like a deer in headlights, but Theo just grinned at him and sipped his champagne.

Mattheo tried to ignore Theo’s words but they sat heavy in his mind. Ever since he started carrying around a handkerchief for you, he barely even noticed other girls. He can’t even remember the last time he accepted a girl’s invite to her dorm. He only ever thought about you, and instead of fear and uncertainty now he only felt warmth and longing when he imagined you and him together. It surprised him how much he wanted all of it. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to have you laugh at his jokes, to smile at him, to worship you in any and every way you’d let him. The realization that he was completely smitten with you pierced through his whole body. Theo was right, you had to be his.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Finding you alone was damn near impossible, Mattheo found out. If it wasn’t his own friends it was literally everyone else in the entire castle. Apparently your light touched everyone at Hogwarts, as every time he tried to get a moment to ask you on a date someone would appear and ruined the moment.

At first he didn’t mind. When the Weasley twins approached you with a new invention, something they called the Zinger Wing Giggle Ball you had been too excited to test it for them. Even Mattheo would admit a ball that flies around making teasing, sarcastic remarks and giggling was funny. Even more so when it scared the daylights out of Mrs. Norris and chased her all through the halls calling her “a dirty flobberworm with legs and a tail”. You, of course, had felt bad for Filch and his tattle-cat but even so, you couldn’t help but laugh along too.

Then there were the professors, Mattheo didn’t realize how much volunteering you did for everyone. Professor Sprout requesting your assistance with the odd plant in the greenhouse or Hagrid wanting you to come witness whatever mysterious beast he’d found that week and log their abilities. Even Snape, who never seemed to like any of his students, would approach you for helping him stock his precious ingredients closet. How you made time for anyone was beyond Mattheo, but he was determined still.

His friends seemed to be the worst of all, they seemed almost determined to not let him have a moment alone with you. No matter where he was with you at least one of them would appear. When he’d finally gotten tired of it he gathered them all and told them he was trying to ask you on a date, a real ’not Mattheo being a fuckboi’ date, by Pansy’s words, not his. Of course with who his friends were and how fiercely protective they were over you, they grilled him for over an hour about his intentions. When they were finally satisfied galleons passed around into Theo and Enzo’s hands. Those fuckers had placed bets amongst themselves on whether or not Mattheo would ever figure out his feelings and ask you out. If Mattheo wasn’t so annoyed he’d be a little touched that his two best friends had faith in him.

And now, here he was. There were no classes today, and almost everyone in the castle was at Hogsmeade. He knew you were somewhere, his friends confirming you weren’t coming that day and had chosen to stay behind. He’d looked for you everywhere, he had even bribed a younger year Hufflepuff with chocolate frogs to check if you were in your room. It felt like another day of failure for him. It was two hours before everyone would come back, he knew that it would be impossible to get you alone after that. He dragged his feet up to the astronomy tower, hoping to take a quick smoke to clear his head.

But he heard a familiar sniffle from the stairs. As quietly as he could he peaked out from the staircase and there he spotted your familiar tuft of hair and bright yellow knit sweater. He approached you, nerves bursting in his body until he felt his stomach drop. You were crying.

“What happened?” Mattheo questioned. His voice made you jump and when you looked at him, he saw your familiar puffy, red cheeks and watery wide eyes.

“Hi Matty,” you said softly, “Its nothing. Just something stupid.” You sniffled, trying to wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to you. You looked at him gratefully and accepted it, wiping your face with the soft, expensive fabric.

“You’d never cry for something stupid.” He corrected. He could remember every instance he’d seen you cry, nothing had ever been stupid about them. He sat next to you on the floor. You sighed, twisting your fingers nervously.

“Someone called me a Slytherin whore.”

Mattheo could have gotten whiplash with how fast his head snapped to you. Mattheo tried not to let his fury show. He really tried, knowing that his anger could potentially scare you.

“Who?”

“…Does it matter?”

“Who?”

“It’s not worth it.”

“Who?”

He didn’t mean to take a tone with you, but he was trying to figure out what asshole he was going to beat the shit out of. Then he’d let his friends have their turn.

“Adrian Pucey.”

That son of a bitch. That idiot couldn’t learn the first time. Screw the quidditch team, they’d find another chaser. When Mattheo was finished with him Pucey wouldn’t be able to go near a broom for at least six months.

“Is that what people think of me?”

Mattheo was so focused on his rage he didn’t even see you deflating at his side. As he looked at you he realized you weren’t just hurt by Pucey’s words, you believed them.

“No, no one believes that. No one with a brain anyway.” Mattheo assured you. He would cast his anger aside for now, you needed him more.

“I just-“ you groaned, holding your face in your hands, “I know I can be… clingy and a crybaby and maybe I do spend too much time with you guys, but I feel like you guys are my best friends and I like being around you guys and I feel like you guys like me around or maybe you just tolerate me but I feel like that shouldn’t make me a whore and I-“ Mattheo had let you babble long enough. He held your face in his hands and turned your head so you could look at him head on.

“Listen to me,” He demanded, “You are not a whore. Nothing you do or say could make you that. Understand?”

You nodded in his hands.

“We do like you being around because we like you. You aren’t clingy or a crybaby. Do you cry? Yes. Is it a perfectly normal reaction? Yes. You’ve made all of our lives better. Pansy has someone she actually likes to do girl stuff with. Draco knows someone outside of our fucked up group and his Mom cares about him. Theo had one of the best fucking birthdays of his life since his Mom died. All because of you! Don’t let some asshole that I’m going to punch in the teeth make you feel like you’re anything less than a ray of sunshine of every single life you touch.”

Mattheo hadn’t realized your hands were cupping his own. You were smiling at him, eyes watery, he wiped a stray tear off your cheek. Your glassy orbs flashed with vulnerability.

“What about you, Matty? Have I made your life better?”

“Better doesn’t even begin to describe what you’ve done to my life.”

More tears were flowing from your eyes but before Mattheo could wipe them away with his hands you threw yourself into his arms, toppling him over and kissed him.

Any thoughts in Mattheo’s head flew out the window as soon as your lips touched his. Your delicate fingers holding his face lovingly and your soft lips pressed against his own. He brought his hands up to your waist, lightly caressing the skin there that was exposed by your shirt and sweater riding up. The a flurry of peace flooded Mattheo’s body, it was as if his entire being was releasing a sigh of relief, a single thought echoed throughout his body: finally.

Unfortunately, youpulled away, your cheeks flushed. Mattheo was laying on the floor underneath you so you ended up right in his lap, which, looking from his point of view, was so fucking tempting.

“I’m going to marry the fuck out of you.”

Mattheo meant it but blurting it out had not been his intention, his brain still reeling from the kiss. Nonetheless, you giggled, airy and light like a tinkling bell.

“How about a date first, Matty?” You teased.

“It’s a start.” Mattheo sat up, pulling your legs tighter around his waist so he could pull you even closer to him. Your fingers started to entangle in his hair and he looked up at you, pure adoration in your eyes, “Do I get to call you mine now?”

“I’ve been yours Matty.”

He hummed happily, pulling your face down to kiss you again.

#and then pucey got his ass kicked #and then pansy tells everyone he's got a small dingaling #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #oneshot #slytherin boys #x reader #soft mattheo #mattheo fluff

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bejeweledinterludes · 4 months ago

Text

❝ aw, crap. ❞

❝ i’m a painted whore. ❞

「 pairing 」 : dean winchester x fem makeup ! wearing reader

「 summary 」 : after a near-death experience on a hunt, you stop wearing your usual everyday makeup, not thinking too much of it. but when you meet up with the winchester brothers for a hunt, dean notices. a lot.

「 word count 」 : 1.7 k

「 warnings 」 : swearing, suggestive content, dean n reader being idiots, sam being a godsend (as always)

tags (based off of this post): @blossomingorchids @illicithallways @k-pevensie28 @sunsbaby @theeyesofasoldier @alediao @cowboysandcigarettes

also PLEASE tell me you guys get the title ?! it’s from the spn episode “the french mistake” (s6 , ep15) when dean says he’s a ‘painted whore’ bc he had makeup on hehe anyways enjoy pookies !!!

𖤐 ────────────────────────

as you got older, you started to like makeup less and less. and it wasn’t because you were even bad at it— but over time, it just… got in the way.

especially on hunts. whether you completely sweated off your eyeshadow or left smears of foundation all over the collars of your fed threads, it was becoming more and more of a chore than one of your favorite things to do.

and the worst part was, you almost died from it.

it had been a simple solo rugaru hunt that you were on about a few months ago in the summertime down in the middle of arizona. so it was hot. and you sweated. a lot. so much so that your mascara started to run and burn in your eyes, making you temporarily impaired— which resulted in almost being that rugaru’s dinner.

after that, you swore off makeup completely. a little concealer and the waterproof mascara that your friend swore was “sob-proof” was the farthest you’d go on a good day— saving a full face only for special occasions, being undercover, or not when you were deep in the thick of it somewhere in the american wilderness.

. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐

you got a call from the winchester brothers in minnesota a few days ago. you’d been finishing up a wendigo hunt in the next state over when sam called you, asking if you had a minute.

and you always had a minute for the winchesters.

you were already heading their way by the time you hung up the phone, meeting up with them outside the sheriff’s office in your fed threads to get info on the people who had gone missing in the past week under strange circumstances.

sam clapped you on the back in greeting— dean too, at usual. but they both were internally recognizing the fact that you looked a little… different.

but not a bad different.

no, it was almost like you looked… younger or something. which was weird, because you didn’t trust witches or fairies just as much as they did— so a youth potion or some sort of spell was out of the question.

sam, being sam, immediately recognized without any help that it was because you were wearing less makeup. even now, years and years later, he still remembered the first time he saw jess without makeup on (like he’d ever forget), and remembered how bashful she’d been because of it. with that, sam knew makeup was almost like protection for the wearer.

so he made a point of not saying anything about it to you— because despite popular belief, he wasn’t just book smart.

and when the two brothers trailed behind you inside the sheriff’s station, he quickly shut down dean’s questioning look and mutter of “why the hell does she look so sexy different?” with a swift “don’t you say anything.” to his older brother— to which, dean pouted, left to put the pieces together himself.

and dean couldn't figure out why he was so infatuated with you all of a sudden.

well, actually, dean did know, but he didn’t want to actually admit it.

because that would mean changing things.

and as much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t allow things to change between you and him. no, he couldn’t. you were one of the only good things— good friends in his life, and he’d be damned if he was going to ruin yet another thing because he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut over some stupid crush.

but something about you was different, he knew it. and over the days on the hunt with the guys, when you all were doing research or talking to people to get info, dean would find himself just… staring at you.

hard.

because now, dean could see clear as day that tinge of pink seep into your cheeks whenever you laughed too hard at something, or got embarrassed— and not to mention the way your eyes still seemed to just light up, even without the usual help of your glittery highlighter that always doubled as your eyeshadow.

he was losing his mind.

you honestly didn’t even really notice it at first. but then again, you didn’t notice a lot of things when it came to dean and you.

he thought he was being obvious with this annoying ass crush for years now— so did sam.

well, he thought, maybe you did notice; you just chose not to mention it for fear of making things awkward.

but in reality, it was because you also had a raging crush on dean. and because of the worry that you were really just imagining all the times you caught dean looking at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

the whole ‘not-noticing’ thing sounds a whole lot better out loud, though.

. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐

which brings you up to right now— sitting with the brothers in some mom-and-pop burger joint after spending the morning talking to the families of the people who had gone missing. it seemed weird to be eating lunch while people were disappearing left and right.

but something pulls you out of your thoughts. you could literally feel eyes on you. you glanced around the hazy sun-lit diner, trying to find the culprit— until you snapped your head to dean sitting directly next to you in the booth, who quickly averted his green eyes back to his plate.

but not quick enough. because you actually, truly, caught him this time.

despite the win, you’re internally freaking out (because jesus, did you really look that bad without makeup on?), but you follow dean’s suit, looking back down at your own food and popping a fry in your mouth smoothly. you were always good at that— keeping a poker face even when you were less than the epitome of calm.

“you wanna take a picture or somethin’?” you inquire cooly between chews— and silently wishing you’d at least put on concealer today.

dean’s eyes immediately flick back up to your side profile— and sam looks up from his salad across from you and dean.

“w—” dean half-smirked nervously with a short chuckle, looking between you, his plate, and sam like he hadn’t just been ogling you mere seconds ago before looking back down at his plate again. “no. it’s just that—”

dean’s words were cut off by a swift kick to his leg under the table from none other than his own brother— shooting a warning glance at dean before he could finish.

son of a bitch— dean shot a glare at his brother right back, glancing back over at you and muttering “‘s nothin’.” and shaking his head before going back to his food.

“y—” your eyes flicked between the two brothers. that stupid silent communication thing they always did wasn’t lost on you for a second. “w— it’s obviously something. jus’ tell me what’s goin’ on, guys.”

dean glanced back up at you— a huge mistake, because he was taken aback by your more concern rather than anger towards him for staring. classic you. never, ever angry at him, even when he knew he damn well deserved it. that was only one of the many reasons why he lov— liked you.

dean then glanced from you to his little brother, possibly for some sort of saving grace, but he was only met with a warning expression from sam, mixed with something else— that familiar look they gave each other all the time that screamed “you opened your mouth, jerk, so you fix it. and if you fuck this up, i’ll kill you dead”.

great.

dean made the next terrible decision of looking back to you— and god, you were looking right back at him. with those gorgeous eyes, only mixed with mild curiosity and concern. your gaze held no malice, eyebrows slightly scrunched together with that look you always had when you were trying to figure him out.

oh, you could figure him out, alright. with you under or on top of him. naw, he didn’t care, just as long as it was both of you moving and skin-to-skin, with those pretty lips gasping for air and moaning his name over, and over, and over—

“somethin’s different.” dean blurts out, internally kicking himself just as sam had done earlier to shake the filthy images that had seeped into his mind.

“different,” a sharp pang of nervousnes but mostly that same curiosity spreads across your senses— you tilt your head a little at dean, brows furrowing just a little more, repeating the word flatly. “different how?”

“i—” the words get caught in dean’s throat, and he hesitates. “well, y’know, it’s, uh… i mean, you look—”

“better,” sam finally interjects with the truth, sick of dean tripping over simple goddamn words. he leans into the table a little to get your attention before slumping back in the booth, rolling his eyes slightly at his brother before looking at you with that soft look he always seemed to have, nodding. “you look better. that’s all. did ya do something different?”

oh. oh.

you look back to dean next to you— the way he was pointedly not looking at you at all anymore was enough to confirm what sam was saying.

“w—” it was your turn to be momentarily speechless, taken aback by sam’s words— and pink appeared on your cheeks, full-throttle before you leaned back against the vinyl, gathering yourself.

you then sheepishly explained what had happened with the rugaru, which ultimately led to your decision to abandon putting on a full beat for ganking monsters. you continued on, saying it was less stuff to pack, and now you could sleep in as much as sam and dean did— besides, it’s not like it even mattered to them anyway.

right?

sam nodded and agreed understandingly— as he always does.

dean just hummed in response, completely and grossly interested in his food again— as he always was.

you nodded too, giving the brothers one last look before delving into a theory you had on the case to sam. and you really thought that was it.

or so you believed.

but the truth was, dean could not be any happier with your decision to ditch makeup for the time being.

because dean was starting to realize that he really liked you without it on.

───────────────────────── 𖤐

#faith’s works . . . @bejeweledinterludes!#dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester x you #jensen ackles #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction

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bsturnzmtts · 7 months ago

Text

That’s what friends are for - Matt Sturniolo

Re uploaded because my account bsturnzmtt got deactivated :( Please follow and let me know if you want to be in my tag list !

Paring: softdom!Matt x innocent! Reader

Contains/warnings: manipulation, inexperienced reader, fingering, oral (fem receiving), loss of innocence kinda, pet names, aftercare, no p in v

Summary: You go crying to Matt after a group of friends' laughed at your innocence and inexperience. So Matt decides to help you...

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

You were hanging out with your friends, everything was going normal until someone made a weird question.

“Where is the weirdest place you’ve touched yourself at?” Someone asks.

Everyone laughs and starts answering “at a restaurant”, “library”, “school” etc. You stay silent confused by the question not understanding. When everyone else answers except you, someone turns to face and asks. “What about you?”

You freeze feeling nervous and confused. “Uhh I- I don’t understand…” You say.

Everyone laughs thinking you were joking, when they see you don't laugh they realize you weren’t joking. Everyone stared at you weirdly and started saying all kinds of stuff. “She can’t serious”

“You can't be that dumb.”

“You're such a prude.”

“Oh god, she's actually that innocent.”

Your eyes blurring with tears at the comments people are throwing at you. You don't understand anything, you don't understand why they are being this mean to you. You quickly grab your things and storm out of there. You don't wanna go home, but you can't stay on the streets crying. So you decide to go to your best friend's house, Matt. His house is just a couple blocks away so you walk there.

By the time you get to his house tears stop falling out of your eyes. But it’s clear that you've cried, your red eyes selling you out. You knock on his door.

He answers the door, his warm smile immediately putting you at ease, even in your emotional state. His eyes flicker to your reddened eyes he tilts his head slightly, concerned by your state. “Hey there, sweetheart. What's wrong?” He softly asks with concern.

“I- I’m so sorry to show up to your house like this, it’s just that… tha-.” You can feel yourself start to cry again.

Matt quickly pulls you into a heartfelt hug, letting you cry on his shoulder. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He murmurs softly, his hand gently rubbing your back. “No need to apologize, you can always come to me, you know that, right?”

You nod but continue to cry on his shoulder.

He continues to hold you, waiting for you to calm down enough so that you can talk about what happened. Once your sobbing subsides a little, he gently guides you to his couch and sits down next to you. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You can tell me anything, you know that. So go ahead, what happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it…” your voice breaks a little bit as you say that

“Okay. That's fine too. You don't have to talk about it if you don't feel ready yet.” He squeezes your shoulder gently, offering silent support and comfort. “How about we just sit here for a little while?”

You nod. Some minutes go by, you're completely done crying and your breathing is back to normal now. “They all laughed at me…” you suddenly say in a quiet voice.

He frowns, listening. "Who laughed at you, sweetheart? And why?" He asks.

“We… we were all hanging out, it was all good. We were having a good time until someone asked…” you start explaining.

"Ask what, love?" He gently prods you to continue, keeping a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Someone asked, ‘Where is the weirdest place you’ve touched yourself at?’” You say.

His expression and posture changes completely from comforting to protective. He pulls you in even closer, scowling. "And what did you say?"

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything. Everyone was answering until someone asked me… I- I told him I didn’t understand the question.”

His grip on you tightens, eyes flashing with a mix of anger and concern. "Fuck. Those bastards." He mutters under his breath. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“They all laughed at me and called me a prude? I think. I don’t remember the word.”

"I don't care what they said, you are not a prude." He gently tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.

“What's a prude?” You ask confused.

He brushes his thumb across your cheekbone, a soft smile on his lips. "A prude is someone who is overly conservative or modest, especially when it comes to sex or relationships. They think you're naive or inexperienced because you didn't answer their crude question." He cups your face, looking into your eyes.

“… what did their question mean?” You ask.

Matt could see your innocence through your eyes. His eyes widen and he sighs heavily, his thumb still rubbing soothing circles on your cheekbone. He looks down, realizing that he may have to explain something uncomfortable to you. "It's a question about masturbation, okay? Touching yourself in a sexual way."

“Oh, like … sex?” You ask innocently.

"Not exactly, love. It's more about pleasuring yourself, especially when you're alone." He pauses, considering how much to reveal. "Sometimes people touch themselves in private, for pleasure, to relieve tension.”

“Ohhh… I’ve never done that.” You say quietly.

His eyes flicker with surprise, but he quickly masks it with a neutral expression. "Oh. Really?" He looks at you with new eyes, as if he's seeing a different side to you. "That's okay, it's your choice. Everyone has different levels of comfort when it comes to sex and sexual activity" He reassures you, sliding his hand down to rest on your shoulder. "But, there's nothing wrong with it if you ever feel like giving it a try."

“Does it… feel good?” You ask with curiosity.

He chuckles, a soft, warm sound. "Yes, it can feel very good.” he admits with a smile. "You feel a rush of pleasure, a release of tension and stress. Some even say it helps with sleep." he explains, his eyes never leaving yours.

You pay attention to his words, your curiosity growing every second. “Have you done it?” You ask innocently with curiosity.

His smile turns into a soft chuckle again as he looks away, clearing his throat. He seems a bit hesitant to answer, but eventually meets your gaze again. "Yes, I have. It's a normal part of life, love."

“Ohhhh” you respond.

He leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers. "What is it, sweetheart?“ His hand slides down to rest on your hip, fingers tracing gentle circles on your skin. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?" His voice is low, a husky whisper. "Wondering what it would feel like…” His eyes narrow slightly, studying your reaction, noticing the subtle hitch in your breath and the way your cheeks flush. He leans in closer, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. "You're...interested, aren't you?”

You nod slowly, feeling a little shy. “But.. I- I don’t know how to…”

His soft smile turned into a smirk. “Shhh, don't worry.” He reassures you. "I'll teach you." His hand moves from your hip to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His other hand reaches up to gently cup your face .“I'll be here to guide you through it all."

“Mhh… I don’t know” you say feeling nervous and unsure.

His smirk grew wider. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “Trust me.” he whispers, his hand sliding from your waist to gently rest on the small of your back. He pulls you even closer to him, leaving very little space between your bodies. "It's just you and me, okay?" He can be very persuasive... "I promise to make you feel good," he whispers.

You think about it still feeling unsure.

He watched you hesitate, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't you trust me?" He asks, feigning a sad expression. “I just want to help you.” He says with a disappointed voice. “That’s what friends are for.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “And we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“… of course I trust you Matt, you’re my best friend. I just.. I-”

He watched you stutter, his grin growing wider with every passing second. He knows he had you exactly where he wanted you. "Then let me help you. We are best friends. And best friends do...well, all sorts of things together." He says with a little chuckle. He can't help but find your innocence and nervousness adorable. He loves how you don't know what his intentions actually are. "I've been planning this moment for a long time now." His hand moves up to your face again, lightly brushing away loose hair from your cheek. "I know what's best for you, I promise. You can trust me.”

“You promise it won't hurt?” You softly ask. You still feel very unsure but you want to show him that you trust him and that he is your best friend.

He gives your face a reassuring squeeze, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "Absolutely not, sweetheart. I promise, it won't hurt at all." He speaks in a soothing, calming tone, his eyes filled with a gentle sincerity. “In fact, it will feel amazing.”

You nod as he says that, you really love Matt as your best friend. So you accept not wanting to ruin your friendship.

He knew he had you right where he wanted you - vulnerable and willing, trusting his every word. "That's a good girl," he cooed, his voice dripping with approval and affection. His eyes are filled with lust and desire. He gently caresses your arm, his fingers trailing down slowly, sending chills running up and down your body.

He watches your reactions closely, gauging your level of comfort and arousal. Seeing you shiver at his touch, he knows he's making progress. His hand slides from your arm to the hem of your shirt, fingers dancing teasingly along the fabric. "First, we need to get you out of this." His hands slowly lifted it up your torso. He fully takes off your shirt revealing the lacy bra underneath. He admires your body for a few seconds. “Fuck” he murmurs. He takes your hand and guides it to his crotch, his fingers intertwining with yours as he presses your palm against the hard bulge in his pants. "See how much you affect me, sweetheart?" he murmurs again, his breathing growing more every second. You let out a small gasp as you feel a hard bulge.

He watches your face as you feel his hardness through his pants, your small gasp and the way your eyes widen slightly. “Ah, you feel that?" He whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Don't be shy," he whispers, urging you to stroke him gently. He moans lightly at your touch, his eyes closing in pleasure. "God, you drive me crazy." he says, his voice filled with a husky warmth that makes your stomach flutter. "You like that, sweetheart?" He continues to press your hand against his crotch, loving the way your innocent touch makes him feel. He says as he leans down to kiss you deeply while caressing your breasts over the bra. He reaches around your back and undoes the clasp on your bra. He gently tugs the straps down, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He leans in, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it gently.

“Mmmh” you let out a whiny moan feeling his tongue against your hard nipple.

He savors the sweet, innocent sound of your moan, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud as he sucks gently. "Mmm, you like that don't you?" He murmurs, the vibrations of his voice against your sensitive skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. He continues to tease and taste your nipple, his other hand massaging your other breast, making sure to give it equal attention. After a few seconds he moves one hand down to your thighs, gently caressing them as he makes his way upwards. "You're so beautiful, sweetheart."With a gentle but firm grip, he pushes up your skirt, making space for himself to touch you more intimately. As his hand inches closer to your core, you can feel the heat building between your legs, aching for more of his touch. His hand finally reaches your panties, his fingers grazing the fabric over your slick folds. "Fuck, you're so wet already," He gently rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm in pleasure.

You bite your lips and let out muffled moans.

He smirks at the sight of you trying to stifle your moans and he loves knowing he's the one causing such delicious chaos. With a smirk he knows you can't see, he slowly lowers his hand, pulling down your panties as he does.

When he fully took your panties off you automatically close your legs feeling embarrassed.

His eyes light up as he sees your instinctive reaction to expose yourself, a mix of shyness and vulnerability. "Don't be shy, baby. I want to see you, all of you." He gently spreads your legs apart. He leans down, his breath fanning against your slick folds, making you gasp, his eyes devouring the sight of your bare, glistening sex.

You close your eyes, your breathing gets heavy, you bite your lip harder. All because of the feeling of his hot breath hitting your core.

He slowly exhales against you, the heat making you tremble despite the lack of direct contact. "You're so responsive, it's a fucking turn-on." He reaches up and gently runs a finger along your slit before pulling back and bringing that finger to your lips, gently pressing it against them. "Open your mouth, my love.”

You stay paralyzed for a few seconds, but then decide to do what he says. So you open your mouth looking at him with my innocent doe eyes showing confusion.

He chuckles at your look of confusion. Seeing your innocent, confused expression makes him smile. "Don't question it, just do as you're told," he whispers, his voice low and commanding, and slowly slides his finger into your mouth. He groans at the sight of watching you as you taste yourself for the first time. He guides your tongue to his finger, coating it with your saliva. "Good girl. That's it, sweetheart. Suck on it” he says before taking it back into his own mouth and sucking off the slickness.

You watch as he takes his finger out of your mouth soaked with a mix of your wetness and saliva. He pushes it into his mouth savoring you. You feel your pussy clench around nothing as he does that.

His eyes darken with lust as he sees your reaction to his actions. He groans, savoring the taste of you on his finger. "Fuck, you're delicious," he says hungrily. He can't help but press his palm against your pussy, feeling the heat radiating from between your legs. "You're so fucking wet, it's dripping down your thighs." His eyes flicker up to meet yours for a moment before he leans forward and uses that wet finger to circle your clit.

“Mmhp Matt.” you squirm and moan.

"What was that, princess?" he murmurs. He continues to circle your clit slowly and gently at first, but he increases the pace as he sees you squirm and moan, the wetness from your own arousal making it easy to glide. His other hand moves to gently grip your thigh, applying gentle pressure to spread your legs wider for him.

You cover your mouth with your hands trying to hide your moans and whimpers.

He chuckles at the futile attempt to muffle your sounds, clearly enjoying the way you struggle to contain quiet. He continues to pleasure you until he hears you stifle a moan behind your hands. "Don't hide that beautiful sound, sweetheart.” he murmurs, pulling your hands away slowly and bringing your fingers into your mouth instead. You suck on his fingers for a few seconds before he pushes them out. “I want to hear you scream my name," he says urgently, his own voice husky with desire. He moves down between your legs and replaces his fingers with his tongue, licking and sucking your clit.

“Mmh oh god Matt.” you desperately moan.

"That's it, princess. Say my name." He presses his tongue firmly against your clit and hums, sending a wave of pleasure through you. The vibrations make you arch your back as he holds onto your thighs, keeping you spread open for him. He smirks against you, feeling you growing wetter against his tongue, which is clearly loving the taste of you, as he is using his fingers to part your folds even more so that he can have easier access. "You taste so fucking good, princess. I could spend hours tasting every inch of you," he murmurs against your pussy, continuing to lick and suck your clit while he slides one finger into your wet pussy.

“Ahh Matt.” you moan in pain and pleasure, feeling his finger stretching you out for the first time.

"You're so fucking tight, princess. Does it hurt?" he coos, his tongue never leaving your clit. “Mhm” you nod. "Relax, princess. Just breathe," he coos, feeling your tightness around his finger. He slowly pumps it in and out, letting you get accustomed to the feeling. You keep letting out moans of pleasure and pain. He smirks against your pussy, pushing his finger deeper, crooking it to hit your g-spot. He could see the mix of pain and pleasure on your face, which made him push his finger in even deeper. "You're so tight.” He says slowly adding a second finger to the first one.

“Matt…Matt mhh.” you whimper in pain.

“Shhh. You're doing so well," His fingers curl inside you, stroking that sensitive spot, applying gentle pressure making you gasp and buck your hips. He lets out a low groan, feeling your walls clench around him. "Fuck, you're gripping me so tightly.” He groans. "You're being such a good girl, just try to breathe." He presses his tongue firmly against your clit, giving it attention as well.

Your moans of pain turn into moans of pleasure after a few minutes. “Mmh mhhp.”

He smirks against your pussy, pleased with the shift in your moans. His fingers continue to pump in and out, curling and stroking that spot inside you that makes you quiver. He adds a third finger, gently stretching you further, feeling your tight walls accommodate him. "You're doing so well, taking my fingers like a good little slut." He continues to finger fuck you, making sure he's hitting your g-spot repeatedly that makes your breathing becoming erratic and your legs tremble. His tongue doesn't leave your clit, applying different kinds of pressures as he continues to suck. "You taste like heaven." He says, his fingers pumping in and out of your tight pussy, curling and stroking that sensitive spot inside you. His tongue continues to flick and suckle your clit, making you feel like you're going to explode any moment.

“Mmh Matt … ahh I-”

"You're almost there, aren't you?" He can feel your pussy starting to clench and flutter around his fingers. His fingers curl and stroke hard across your g-spot, making sure you're right on the edge. He sucks harder on your clit, flicking his tongue in response to the way you clench around him. "Cum for me, darling." he growls against your sensitive clit, feeling you quiver and shake around his fingers. He pumps them faster, curling them deeper inside you, hitting that spot that makes your legs tremble, making you see stars. "Come on, princess, scream for me.” Before you could finish, he suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his tongue. He flicks his tongue against your g-spot, feeling it quiver beneath his touch. His fingers now focus on your clit, pinching and rolling it between his thumb and index finger. You finally cum. You come undone is his mouth and fingers. You let out a scream of pleasure as you do. He pulls back his fingers and removes his mouth from your pussy, leaving you quivering. He smirks at you, his fingers coated in your juices, licking them slowly, his eyes locked onto yours.

You look at him, your body still quivering a bit, and you're trying to catch your breath.

He watches you breathe heavily, your chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. He reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, his hand lingering for a moment on your cheek. "You're absolutely gorgeous when you cum." he says with a satisfied smile. He admires your glistening pussy with a satisfied smirk. He leans in close and whispers in your ear, "You taste amazing, princess." His free hand moves up to your chin, gently guiding your face to meet his. He leans down and kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself. His tongue slips in and out of your mouth with ease, mimicking the movement of what he was just doing to you. He gently strokes your quivering inner thighs, his fingers leaving trails of heat. He pulls you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him. His erection is prominent against his pants, straining against the fabric.

You rest your head on his chest feeling tired.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. He runs his fingers through your hair and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. He can feel your heart still racing from your intense orgasm. "You okay, princess?" He murmurs softly, his hand gently stroking your back.

“Mhm” you nod softly.

He lifts your chin up to meet his gaze, his fingers tracing your jawline. “Good." He says with a small smile. He moves you off of his lap and lays you down gently on the bed, his body following yours before he wraps you up into a spooning position. His hand comes to rest on your waist as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “Did it feel good?” He asks.

“Yes” you reply as your cheeks turn pink.

He lets out a soft chuckle, nuzzling his face into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your sensitive skin. “I love hearing that.” He murmurs before placing another kiss against your skin. He rests his hand against your stomach, pulling you closer. He starts to gently move his hips, pressing his erection against your ass as he grinds gently.

“Matt…”

He stops moving his hips, his hand stilling against your stomach. He kisses your neck gently, then whispers against your skin. “Yes, princess.”

“…. thank you” you say shyly.

“No need to thank me, doll. It’s my pleasure.” He says with a small smile that you can feel against your skin. He turns you around to face him, his hands cradling your face. He presses a soft kiss against your lips before pulling back and looking into your eyes. He sees the exhaustion and pleasure in them and can't help but smile softly. “You don't have to thank me, princess. I’m your best friend, right? I would do anything for you, that’s what best friends do.

He tilts your chin up, his thumb gently stroking your lower lip. He watches as you cuddle closer in his arms. His breath ruffling your hair and his hips gently moving, grinding against yours. But he stops himself before losing control. "We should probably get you cleaned up and in some comfortable clothes, huh?" He suggests, his voice still soft and soothing. His hand drifts down to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Why don’t I run you a warm bath?”

“Can we stay here for a bit?” You softly ask, feeling tired.

He smiles softly, his thumb continuing to stroke your lower lip. "Of course, princess. We can stay right here." His other hand still on your thigh, he gives a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing small circles on your skin. He pulls a blanket over you both, tucking you in close to his side.

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cookiieduh · 27 days ago

Text

wake up from him .ᐟ

.shame that it took your crappy ex cheating on you to let you finally see what’s been in front of you the entire time..

pairing.ᐟ shoko x reader.

.cont.ᐟ SFW, fem!reader, mentions of cheating, best friends to lovers (?), wlw (duh), hurt/comfort, possibly a little angsty, fluff, the faintest whiff of crack perhaps (?), massaging, mutual pining, WILL be proofread in the morning, lmk if i missed anything :3

extra.ᐟ wc,, 2k,, for the wlw shoko enjoyers <3 once again sleep deprived, on the verge of passing away

“guys suck.”

shoko definitely wasn’t expecting that to be the first thing she hears from your lips the second she answers your sudden call at 8:34pm. a little disoriented, she doesn’t even register how blubbery your voice is, or the little sniffles that sound through the speaker.

“yeah, tell me about it.” she finally snorts. oblivious. setting her phone down as she continues fixing up another weird, late-night craving: salt and peppered apples. “we’re friends with the biggest dipshits ever.” she continues, voice lowered with the soft rumble of laughter.

but this wasn’t about geto, not even gojo. this was about your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend.

“no. shoko.” the sadness in your voice carries through her end of the line, making her pause the unconventional seasoning and sharply turn as if you were about to supernaturally materialise in front of her very eyes. “he cheated.” she can hear the shaky exhale, then dry sob before you promptly mute.

and shoko’s confused by her reaction. of course there’s that immediate burst of anger. forget an inkling, she had a whole dissertation on why this guy was bad news. like how he took you to a hockey game with his brother, leaving without you because he ‘forgot you tagged along’, or how he always talked about future plans that somehow always excluded you.

but what surprises her is the little spark of relief, maybe satisfaction, that follows. was she a bad person? no. well, maybe. anyone would be happy if their longtime best friend got out of a toxic relationship, definitely a little forlorn at the prospect of the wakeup call being infidelity, but she was smiling. smiling. as if she had some kind of master plan that was falling into place.

but that can’t be right. you. her best friend. is understandably upset, torn by that scumbag leech’s betrayal. now is not the time to be cheesing. and you’re still on mute, probably halfway through the amount of tears one can cry in a lifetime, while she chomps on a pepped up apple-stick.

“want me to come over?” she asks, mouth full and voice muffled by the half-chewed fruit snack, but sympathetic all the same.

“just wasn’t expecting it, y’know?” your sobs have mostly slowed, but there’s still those uncontrollable little hic!’s that make you squeak as you rest your head on her chest. would it be skeevy of her to say she did? that she could smell the mess he was going to make from a mile away?

“i know.” she murmurs anyway, lidded tawny eyes dropping to your flushed profile as nimble fingers rake through your hair in a gesture that’s almost pacifying. “ugly men get a gorgeous girlfriend and don’t know how to act. he’s the only one to blame.” her voice trickles into something soft as she tries to comfort you.

she keeps combing through your hair with gentle hands, ignoring the snot she can feel bleeding through her shirt as your glossy eyes absently drift over the cheesy sitcom playing on the tv. she barely catches the canned laughter of the programme, eyes too busy trailing the occasional tear that slips from your red-rimmed depths.

there’s a blanketed silence between you, the kind of contentment that doesn’t need words. shoko’s heart beats steadily beneath your cheek. grounding. her lissom palms slide from your crown to your nape. fingers trace light stripes down to your shoulder, trailing soothing circles over the thick material of your sweatshirt. a barrier.

“you got anything to drink here?” she hums, gaze breaking from your profile to follow your vacant stare at the too-bright screen. “might help you feel better.” she feels selfish for suggesting alcohol, but she needs a smile from you tonight. at least one. and she has a knack for cracking better jokes when she’s just a little tipsy.

“yeah. got some open sake in the fridge.” you mutter after a beat, shakily sniffling against her one last time before raising your head. she pats you once before getting up, sauntering off in a way that almost catches your exhausted attention. you watch the subtle sway of her hips as she walks with something you chalk up as being passive interest. not because she has a nice butt.

you’re tired. overtired. fresh out of a maelstrom of a relationship, and in need of comfort, your brain is rousing with less than appropriate thoughts of a girl who’s closer than family. but that’s wrong. shoko is your ride or die, your best friend. you don’t even want to entertain thoughts of messing things up because of some unchecked sentiments.

before you can dwell in those unsolicited fantasies any longer, shoko returns. two full glasses in one hand, a substantially emptier bottle in the other. “mmh. this should do the trick.” she sighs with a grin, setting the dwindling rice wine down on the coffee table before slumping beside you. graceful enough to avoid any spillage.

“thanks.” you mumble as she hands you a glass, taking a steady sip before leaning back against the plush pillows lining the couch. “i needed this.” no more hiccups, but your cheeks are still flushed. lashes clumped with drying tears. puffy eyes, and a voice that still sounds too wet. but when you turn to shoko, she’s already watching you. eyes darting around your face like you’re something she needs to explore.

“c’mon.” she abruptly pats her thighs with a free hand. “put your feet up.” she smiles, bringing the glass to her lips as she waits for you to make a move. you’re friends. it’s normal. so you swivel around on the couch, doing as you’re told, calves coming to rest on her lap.

her eyes are drawn back to the poor acting on screen while her palm warmly splays over the bridge of your foot, lightly working up your shin. you’re left dazedly considering her, observing every micro expression that plays on her pretty face as she pretends to not notice you staring

“you’re so soft.” shoko muses quietly, caramel hues flitting down to the skin bared by your sleep shorts. and she knows exactly what she’s doing when she decides to trail her fingers across the smooth surface in a way that’s ticklish enough to make you squirm and almost spit the sake out.

“shoko—!” you hiss, throat burning from the sudden rush of your gulp. “don’t do that.” you continue, coughing. but it’s a struggle to take you seriously when you're still so nasally and swollen. despite the coy smirk on her face, she concedes, stroking you with a firmer touch. you melt.

“no, seriously.” she turns to you, taking another swig of rice wine before leaning back further against the couch, pulling you against her in a way that makes you yelp. “what moisturiser do you use?” she grins, rubbing over your legs with a comically exaggerated fervency that draws a giggle from your lips. perfect.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” you sass back, feeling a lot lighter than before as you playfully kick your legs up, making her laugh softly in response. you both settle, placid in the quiet joy of each other's company. and then you feel it. filthy and hot and burning, clawing up your throat, making spent tears sting your eyes again. for a totally different reason.

you like her. you really like her. more than a friend should.

maybe it’s the cruel realisation of those unwarranted feelings, or the way she just looks at you too warmly, but you down the almost full glass in one go. the taste does little to push away the scorch of guilt rising up your throat like bile. before she can lower her hand and continue touching, you swing your feet off her lap.

“you okay?” she turns to you suddenly, a little startled in the way her sleepy eyes widen just a fraction. you set the glass down with a clink! before rising to your feet. she follows you with her eyes, confused by you pulling away so suddenly. she thought you were finally cheering up. this sudden distress doesn’t look good on you.

“yeah. fine.”

harsh. clipped. not fine. it brings a furrow to her brows and a pang of hurt to her chest. you make a quick escape to the kitchen, only bewildering her more as she mentally checks off all the things she could have done to upset you. was asking for the moisturiser too much? she sure hopes it wasn’t.

“you’re saying that.” she mutters dryly, half expecting you to ignore her, let alone respond. so she has a final gulp of the sake before following after you. spotting you hunched by the sink, face held in your hands. she steps beside you, palm hovering over your shoulder as if evaluating the risk of you smacking her hand away.

“still thinking about it?” she asks as if she’s on thin ice. and you hate the pity in her voice. yes, your heart’s still sore from the pain of betrayal, but it’s simultaneously breaking for a whole other reason. nothing to do with him. everything to do with her.

you respond with a nod that’s barely any movement, feeling your palms grow wet with a fresh line of tears you didn’t even realise had begun to slip. she sighs and pulls you into a side hug, lips pressing against the top of your head in something that’s not quite a kiss, but just as comforting. just as affectionate.

“it’s okay. you’ll be okay.” she murmurs, soothing. and you really want to believe her when she handles you like you’re delicate china, gently manoeuvring you to rest your chin against the crook of her neck because you might just shatter if she’s too quick.

and then it comes. messy and tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it.

“i think i like you.”

voice muffled against her shoulder, heart pounding in your lungs. and she stills for a moment, arms stiff around you as if she’s considering. you hold your breath like you’re waiting for the sting of rejection, for her to pull away. you don’t expect her to play dumb.

“we wouldn’t be friends if we didn't like each other. would we?” but you can feel the sapped bob of her throat as she swallows a little thicker, struggling to keep the tilt of nerves out of her voice as she bluffs naïveté. she keeps you close. maybe she pulls you closer. you’re too dizzy to decide.

and maybe you can just play the fool and blow it off, blame it on the headache of heartache and the just chugged sake storming through your system. but that feels like a cop out. a cheap excuse. more lies, more secrets. it’s not what you need. and it might be a mistake, it might ruin everything you’ve built with her over the years, but you need acknowledgement. closure.

“you know what i meant.” you huff, pulling back to look up at her in all your snotty glory, a muted sliver of the sass shining through the cracks, even in your sadness. she holds your gaze. and it’s there. that tenderness that brings warmth to her wearied eyes.

“i know.” she whispers, eyes closing for a moment and a small smile curls her lips. she takes one of your hands, tepidly lacing your fingers with her own before wrapping you in an embrace you immediately reciprocate. in relief, hugging her back just as tight.

“i think i like you, too.”

a/n: i wish shoko was real

159 notes · View notes

pandora-writes-one-piece · 4 months ago

Text

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 12

Source for pic

Trouble 12

Word Count: 4430

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Reader in a terror-like state; Dead Animals Mentioned; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: As I said before, I really didn't want to finish this chapter with a cliffhanger... but I had to! Not only because it feels right, but also because I wouldn't have a good place to break the chapter after this and it would be REALLY long! Confession time: action scenes are my nemesis... I always feel like they're not real enough, or not strong enough, or they just... lack something... But I tried! Hope you like it... Also, fair warning: non-consensual touching occurs in this chapter. Thread with caution, please and thank you.

Masterlist

The moment you step through that old wooden door is glorious. He can feel the tips of his fingers tingling in anticipation. You are coming to meet him.

Willingly.

Well… the willingness is debatable, but you are still here. And he's waited for this for so long.

Years.

And now, you'll finally be his. He can barely contain his excitement.

“Finally, Kitten. Come to me.” His voice sounds uncharacteristically high-pitched, but he doesn't dwell on that thought for too long. The moment recognition dawns in your beautiful eyes, he snickers.

You haven't forgotten him.

“You? Why?” He's a tad disappointed that you don't seem happy to meet him, but he'll let it slide. You are being manipulated by that meddlesome cop, you have no idea how you should feel.

But he'll fix that.

He'll fix you.

“Because I love you, Kitten. And you will too. Soon. Soon.”

He watches in glee as you take a small step back, stumbling on your own feet - such an adorable klutz you are - and the door closes behind you when you bump into it.

He can see fear in your eyes. He's revelling in it. The way he's been doing it for weeks. He once thought it was enough to simply watch you smile. Until the day he watched you tremble and whimper. Then, he became addicted.

Your fear, no, your terror grips him in a way nothing else ever could. It excites him. And he can't get enough.

“You're sick.” You spit out, eyes glinting with fire that is trapped there. Your fierceness gets lost in limp limbs and shaking members.

And he grunts in amusement.

He takes a step forward, and you stumble back. A wicked grin contorts his features and he can barely contain the itch in his hands. He needs to touch you again.

He's been waiting for so long.

Another step forward and another step back from you, a dance you play out for two more steps before your back hits the wall.

You're trapped.

And he seizes the opportunity.

Your pulse is aflutter beneath his grasp, irregular and fast, like a little fly caught in a spider's web, flapping its wings without a chance of escaping. A sob rises in your throat and he sees panic in your eyes when he presses his body into yours, pinning you helplessly to the solid wall.

The way you wiggle against him fuels his fire, and he snarls, his chest rumbling with the primal sound that escapes his lips. Your mouth opens and he's expecting a cry, a whimper, a plea, or a prayer. But your lips utter that damned cop’s name, just the first syllable, an intimacy that makes him snarl again, this time dangerously.

“Wrong name, Kitten!” He barks, his forehead almost touching your face. “What's my name?” You shudder and shake your head, fat droplets of tears slipping through your lashes and spilling against his hand. Your fingers rise and claw incessantly at his hand and he realises he's stealing your breath - squeezing too tight.

So he loosens his grip and you take a deep inhale, your chest expanding as you gasp for air. He lets the tattooed side of his face caress yours with affection as he coos at you. “Shhh, Kitten, shhh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.” You whimper as he lays a wet kiss against your temple and presses his body closer, one knee parting your legs so he can slot himself even nearer. “You'll learn to behave, it's alright.”

A shiver makes your body jerk and tremble as your hands feebly fight against his hold. His smirk takes up half his face as he effortlessly stops your struggling. You stand no chance against his massive size.

“My name, Kitten? Do try to remember… I spent two years near you, have I been so insignificant to you?” The way his voice hardens is involuntary.

Then, he watches as your eyes dart around, looking for an exit, a way to escape his clutches, so he presses harder, his hand squeezing your neck tighter again.

Then, you freeze.

You stop gasping and your hands cease their futile struggle, falling limply near your pockets. Your eyes find his, and your determination makes his smirk falter. Your lower lip trembles as you open your mouth to speak, and then he feels it.

The cold press of a gun barrel against his gut.

“King.”

You whisper.

And then, you shoot.

-*-

King barely remembers his interview with the Vinsmoke prick. He knew he'd get the job. He was overqualified, over-diligent and overall, the best in the business. He knew he'd get to pick and choose where he wanted to work - Vinsmoke Enterprises sounded alluring.

The Vinsmokes’ elder child was sure to have all sorts of criminals chasing him and his fortune, plus Queen, one of his team members, was behaving like a kid in a candy shop just thinking about gettting access to Germa technology, so the bodyguard gig seemed interesting.

Far more interesting than protecting rich, spoiled brats or celebrities. Those jobs were boring as fuck when all his team had to do was swat paparazzi like flies or guard a hotel door while somebody fucked someone.

He was wrong.

The Vinsmoke wasn't being harassed by criminals but by fans. King found that out on the first day of his job, and he was about to call it quits when he saw you: showing up in your gala dress, looking so out of place that it was clear in your expression, then tripping helplessly over the train of the gown and almost diving face-first to the floor.

King caught you effortlessly by the elbow, and when your gaze locked with his to thank him, he knew what it felt like to truly want someone. He wanted you. He needed you.

You were perfect.

You were everything.

But you didn’t give him the time of day, looking at your fiancé’s bodyguards as if they were mere background noise and not people - not that you were unkind, never unkind, but he knew he would never be more than staff in your eyes.

And he had to endure the Vinsmoke’s hands all over your body, the way he kissed you possessively when someone’s eyes caught your figure and lingered too long, the way that prick controlled you: where to go, what to wear, what to say, who to speak to…

Sometimes, he heard you rebel. He heard the screaming and the accusations behind closed doors, and those were the times he wished you would just dump the fucker’s ass and be free.

But you never did.

So he endured his boring job with the spoiled Vinsmoke brat. All because it meant he could be in the same space as you, hear you, smell you, and watch you. What was an infatuation turned to admiration, to fascination, and then… something much more profound and meaningful…

Obsession.

He knew every step you took, every person you spoke to, everyone who looked at you. He knew the way you liked your eggs in the morning or the junk food you craved when it was that time of the month. He knew the kind of perfume you liked, the books you read, the music you listened to, and all of your habits.

He knew everything.

He also saw the way that bastard treated you as if you were a mere accessory - something pretty to flash at a party. He cheated, he flirted with other girls in front of you and, worst of all, he blamed you for all the attention you got when you showed up as the prettiest of girls at his dull parties.

He observed the way you twisted your jewellery to hide your nervousness or the way you avoided making eye contact with anyone remotely interesting just to keep the asshole appeased - it made King’s stomach churn.

No one would ever deserve you, that was a fact, but Vinsmoke Ichiji was the least deserving person of them all.

So, it was quite easy to plant evidence right under your nose for you to find his cheating habits: a hotel key, a credit card bill, incriminating notes… the works. And that did it easily.

You were finally free.

And so was King.

He immediately left the Vinsmokes, not caring a bit about breaching his contract. Queen followed suit - he’d gotten all the secrets he could wish for in those blissful two years - as did most of his team, though they went separate ways after that.

Two years of enduring an asshole’s employment just to get a glimpse of what perfection felt like. If not for you, King would’ve left long ago. But it was the small moments, the way he could smell your shampoo lingering in the air after a bath, or the way your smile lit up the whole room, that made him stay.

You.

All for you.

His Kitten.

You were sad when you left, he could tell. That’s why he watched you closely, kept you safe, kept you unharmed. You reconnected with your friends, and the way you smiled made him become obsessed all over again - this was a genuine smile. Not the fabricated bullshit you used to throw at that bastard - a smile that never even reached your eyes.

King thought he should give you some time to adjust, to settle into country life, to change your high heels for boots and your dresses for jeans. It suited you perfectly. He could almost see you both taking care of horses, riding together into the sunset in bliss… you just had to see it too.

Soon.

You’d still need some time.

But then he came along. That cop bastard, always watchful of you, always keeping you safe from little things. That was King’s job! Not his! He kept flirting with you and - worse! - you flirted back.

And every time King managed to stop things from escalating to intimacy, it just seemed to deepen your connection to the cop. He had to act faster.

So, watching you from afar was not enough. Besides, he was used to having you right in front of his nose, even if he could never touch you when he was guarding Vinsmoke, you were always just right there. And now, you seemed so far away.

Luckily, Queen managed to create an app that could access your phone. Texts, calls, camera, audio, you name it. It was very simple to snatch your phone when you were adorably drunk at that yacht party and install it. He also took advantage of the fact that you were away to have Queen to install cameras all around your house.

Now he could watch you everywhere.

Still, the fucking cop never relented. And you just seemed to be more and more drawn to him. The number of times King had to intervene just so the cop wouldn’t kiss you was more than he was willing to count. He even had Queen hack into the police systems just so he could be drafted for a training retreat.

Truth be told, King was planning to deal with the cop then. Maybe ask Jack, another one of his trusted team members, and a known brute, to end his miserable existence and make it look like a training accident.

But King knew you needed your friends to be happy. He was addicted to that genuine smile that lit up your eyes when you were with them. And that was the only reason he held back. For you.

Always for you.

He’d admit he went a bit too far when he took out a man’s eyeballs and another’s hands, but they needed to learn that you were untouchable. Unattainable. His.

Just his.

He’d also admit that he took out all of the anger he harboured for the cop on those two assholes. Because he kept having to hold himself back, repeating in his head the reason why he was keeping the cop alive: you; you; you; only you.

But he warned you. You just had to stay away from the cop. Nothing else.

It almost worked. And you were even more beautiful when you were cowering in fear, trembling at every sound, shivering at any moving shadow. King wanted you to feel terror, so he could come and protect you.

You just needed to learn.

To behave.

To be his.

When he finally held you in his arms at that club, showed you how much he loved you, marked you, and told you that you were his, he thought that had done it. That you had finally learned that you belonged to him.

You were almost ready.

And then you went and fucked the cop.

Oh, he was so mad. Utterly enraged. There was no more reason to keep that bastard alive, not when he could hear you moan his name like a slut; not when you kept asking for more and harder.

That was supposed to be King.

You were supposed to moan his name, ask him to go deeper and thrust faster. Not the fucking cop!

But it’s all right. Because you came to him.

You were here now. Right in front of him.

And this time, King would make sure you learned your lesson thoroughly.

-*-

You’re shaking.

Your hands tremble as you hold the gun and press it against King’s stomach.

He flinches, his grin faltering for a second as you hold your breath, waiting for him to scream, to grunt, or to fall to his knees.

Instead, he remains still.

Time seems to slow down, each second taking an eternity to roll into the next. And then something happens.

He laughs.

The breath you were holding turns into a whine as your eyes fall on his stomach: there’s no blood.

“Oh, sweet, sweet Kitten…” He coos, one hand caressing your face, taunting you, and this time, it’s you who flinches. “You didn’t even check to see if the gun was loaded, did you?” He tuts in disappointment and mild amusement before he snatches the gun from your hands with no effort whatsoever.

You barely have time to let out a relieved gasp when he takes a step back, yet instead of the distance giving you a breather, it just makes you feel even more trapped, because now he’s holding your gun.

King tuts again and flips the gun with practised ease, tilting it to the side and pulling the slide back to check the chamber: empty. He chuckles under his breath and shakes his head, his eyes falling on you, berating you silently.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he grabs the slide and yanks it back in one smooth motion. You hear the sharp crack of the bullet sliding into the chamber, and when he releases it, you know the gun is now ready to fire.

His lips curl into a grin as he turns the handle of the gun back to you, a throaty laugh escaping him as his brows arch. “There, love. Now it’s ready.” He moves the gun closer to you, urging you to grab it. “Want to try again?”

He’s toying with you, messing with your head. Making you think there’s a way to escape when you’re actually trapped.

A silent sob shakes your lips, and you press harder against the wall, trying to create more distance between you.

“No?” He teases. Then his grin disappears and he throws the gun carelessly to the ground, not bothering to look where it landed. “You disappoint me, Kitten. I thought you were ready to meet me, to realise who I was. I thought that seeing me would make you happy. Instead, you try to shoot me!”

King’s voice raises as he snarls and growls, regaining the distance he created when he took the gun from you, his hands slamming with such force against the wall that it trembles beneath his rage.

“If you don’t come to me willingly, then I’ll have to make you.” King’s hand grabs your chin as he lifts your head, and your body freezes again, much like it did back at the club. All the earlier bravado is gone, thrown carelessly away like the gun you thought would bring you safety.

Your mind screams for Zoro. Why did you think you could do this without him?

Your lips start to form the word again, his name whispered to insanity against the back of your teeth. You can’t say it. It will only make him angrier.

King lets go of your face just so he can grab your wrists. Then, he pins them above your head with one hand, easily holding you in place without any meaningful effort. You’re pathetic.

When he growls again, you feel it. The rumble of his chest against yours as he presses further. You can feel how hard he is against your stomach, and you close your eyes, a lonely whimper breaking through the barrier of your shut lips.

“Yes, Kitten, whimper.” He sticks out his long tongue and licks from your neck up to your ear with a lewd groan. “You’ll moan my name now.”

King’s hand roams everywhere, and you are powerless to stop it. He’s too strong. No matter how hard you try to squirm, the action only makes him press harder - only excites him further. His teeth graze your jaw, then his lips trail kisses down your collarbone. You go rigid and he chuckles against you, feeling your powerlessness, your terror gripping you and stopping your movements.

His hand slithers beneath your clothes, roaming your bare back, and you shudder violently. “You’re trembling for me, sweetheart?” He hums softly against the hollow of your throat and you feel desperation sinking its claws into your chest. “I’m eager too, you know?” Then he locks his lips around the pulse of your neck and sucks harshly. You sob and he chuckles as he releases your neck with a loud plop. “I can feel your heart racing for me, love.”

King pulls back to look into your eyes, to savour the way your body trembles and then, suddenly, he stops. His hands stop roaming and his eyes linger on your chest. You’re heaving, fighting back sobs and trying to remove your hands from his hold, not willing to give up so easily, but barely mustering any strength to keep fighting.

It takes you an extra second to realise what has gotten such a hold on his attention.

Zoro’s sweater.

King lets go of your wrists only to grip the neck of the sweater with both hands, and with a primal growl that has you gasping and shaking, he tears the fabric in two, removing it from your body as if it personally offended him.

“I’ll erase his fucking existence from your mind. You’re mine. Mine. MINE!”

His hand flies to your neck, and he squeezes, another hand groping your breast, and you sob, your legs thrashing, hitting him but making no dent on his rock of a body.

This is it.

There’s no escaping him.

BANG!

The front door trembles on its hinges as it’s kicked open, splinters from the lock flying around as thunder crashes outside, the storm raging relentlessly, but nothing like the tempest you can see reflected in Zoro’s eyes.

“Get the fuck away from her, you fucking bastard.”

Zoro’s name, the one you’ve been keeping trapped, floods out of your mouth like a prayer. King barely has time to register what happened before Zoro grabs him by the scruff of his sweatshirt and yanks him off you.

Your legs shake, and you lose balance, falling to your knees as your hands brace your weight against the wooden floor. Heavy gasps leave your lips as you take in the scene before you.

The two men are sizing each other up.

Zoro is smaller than King. Both in height and in build, and that’s saying something, because Zoro is already a massive man. King has a snarl of disdain pressed upon his lips as he glares daggers at Zoro, whose body is visibly vibrating with fury, a dark, murderous aura rolling out of him in waves as he clenches his fists.

“You.” King roars, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. “I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you, hero.” He spits disdainfully, clearly upset that he was interrupted.

Zoro grins maniacally, his eyes darkening as he too cracks his knuckles. “I can say the same, you fucking bastard. I won’t let you lay a single finger on her again.” They stare at each other so intensely that you find yourself holding your breath. “You alright, Trouble? Did the fucker hurt you?” Zoro asks without breaking eye contact with his opponent.

“I-I’m fine. I’m fine!” You croak miserably. You can’t help the powerlessness coursing through you. You brought this upon Zoro. It’s your fault if he gets hurt.

“Good.” Zoro’s voice is low. He’s focused - lethal. “Stay back. And if things go south… run.”

Never. You’d never leave him. But you still nod with a noncommittal noise so that he’s appeased.

Then the fight starts. It’s not like it happens in movies, nobody rings a gong, there’s no soundtrack to the battle, no atmosphere change or dramatic camera movements. They just clash.

The sound of fists hitting flesh and bones cracking is sickening. You flinch every time King hits Zoro, you whimper everytime he falters, but you can’t seem to rejoice whenever Zoro’s hits land, because King barely stumbles.

He’s so strong.

Zoro’s fist hits King’s jaw and you hear the bone crack as his head whips to the side, blood splattering the dark wood of the floor as the man stumbles against the bookshelf. He chuckles darkly, wiping the blood with the back of his hand and spitting the rest on the floor. Then he lunges and tackles Zoro, both falling against the end table, glass shattering on impact as you swallow a cry.

The scent of blood and sweat lingers in the air like a thick, sickening fog and you fight back a wave of nausea.

“Zo…”

“She’s mine!” King snarls as he lands a punch against Zoro’s jaw. When he raises his hand for the second hit, Zoro deflects and King hits the floor, glass crunching beneath his fist as he growls through the pain.

Zoro shoves him with a kick to the stomach and, as he gets up, drags King up by his sweatshirt just to knock him back down again with another lethal punch.

“Say that one more time, fucker!” Zoro’s arm coils back for another punch, but King’s larger hand wraps around his fist and holds Zoro in his grip, a sickening, bloodied smile spreading on his face.

“Mine!” He claims, holding Zoro’s left hand the same way when Zoro tries to go for another punch. Then King headbutts Zoro with such a force that you gasp, springing to your feet, not knowing what to do as King releases him and Zoro stumbles back three paces, trying to steady himself on his feet again with heavy gasps.

He leans against the back of the couch, breathing heavily, blood trickling down his temple and his split lip, his chest heaving up and down. Then he wipes the blood away from his good eye and grins maniacally again.

“That all you got?” Zoro wheezes, clearly out of breath, but so is King. “You hit like a little bitch.”

King’s grin matches Zoro’s: unhinged, deranged, and disturbed.

And then they collide again. Flesh against flesh, bones against bone. The dry thuds and the wet splotches of blood make your chest ache as you sob and shudder.

“Just die already, cop! I’m going to claim her and truly make her mine. She’ll moan my name like the little slut she is and–”

King doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

Zoro sees red.

He lunges forward, his fist flying with such force that it has King stumbling against the wall, a muffled grunt trapped between his teeth. But Zoro doesn’t even let him breathe. A right hook; a gut punch; a knee to the ribs; a left uppercut.

He doesn’t relent. Punch after punch, hit after hit. He only stops when King is lying unconscious, his body slumping down against the wall in a heap of blood and cuts.

Zoro breathes heavily, his body still taut, still ready to act and finish the job if he needs to, his eye locked on his enemy.

Until he hears you cry out his name.

Then he turns, stumbles, and falls to his knees.

You gasp and rush to kneel beside him, your shaking hands cupping his cheeks gently, trying to smear the blood away so you can see how badly hurt he is. “Zo, Zo, oh my God, Zo.”

He smirks, his hand rising weakly so he can push a strand of hair away from your eyes. “Hey, Troublemaker.” He says softly. “I know you're tough, maybe you could’ve handled this on your own, but I wanted to give you a hand.”

You laugh through the tears and sobs as you lurch forward and hug him tightly against you, ignoring his pained grunt. “Thank you, Zoro.”

He pulls back to stare into your eyes, his hand gently wiping a tear from your cheek, another one clasping the back of your neck to bring you closer. “Anytime.” He leans his forehead against yours and you raise your lips to bring them to his, to make sure he’s real.

But before they collide, you feel Zoro stiffen, a muffled groan escaping his lips as his hand grips your nape tightly.

You pull back, trying to see what’s going on, and you freeze. A cry slowly climbs up your throat, though it gets trapped before you get the chance to release it.

Blood.

So much blood.

“Fucking die. Nobody wants a hero.” King snarls and you see it: a knife protruding from Zoro’s back, where King has stabbed it. Then, with a low growl, King removes the knife with a twist and kicks him forward, against your arms again.

“T-Trouble… run.” Zoro whispers weakly against your neck, the bloodstain spreading as you pull back to slowly see colour drain from Zoro’s face.

“No! No! Zoro, Zo!” You cry desperately, fingers clutching at Zoro’s back, trying to stop the bleeding with sheer will. “Zoro! You can’t leave me! No!”

King comes up from behind you, weaving his fingers through your hair and gripping tightly. Then, he leans down to whisper in your ear. “Too bad, sweetheart. But now you get to see him die.”

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall

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|Chapter 13🔞|

#one piece #reader insert #reader x roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x you #you x zoro #reader x zoro #reader x you #the meet-cute #zoro x you

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bwabys-scenarios · 2 years ago

Text

Halloween with the Spiders

Phantom Troupe x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: looots of pussy eating, characters get hard/horny around reader. they eat her pussy after drinking, but they’re only buzzed, not drunk

A/N: I write Chrollo as the shy and awkward guy he actually is so… he’s not super suave in this. Also sorry I wrote out Kortopi, Franklin, and Bonolenov. I’m just not interested in their characters like at all 😭🙏 they’ve got nothing going for them I’m afraid!

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

It was the end of summer, august slipping into September before you knew it. The weather was still warm enough outside for you to be wearing a tank top and shorts, something the blonde you were currently dealing with appreciated greatly.

“Okay Shal, you should be good to go. You can get a popsicle from the fridge now.”

You were the sweetheart of the Phantom Troupe, a woman Chrollo had recruited to be the troupe medical director after he watched you donate your time and services to meteor city residents.

Right now, you were at one of the various expensive hotels Chrollo rented for you, using your nen to tend to Shalnark’s wounds. “Thanks, (Name)! I really thought I was a goner this time!”

He gives you a sly smile as he laps at the popsicle you give him, causing you to laugh. “Shal, you had a cut on your cheek. I swear, you’re such a baby.”

You didn’t know the real reason he always came with injuries in… strange places. He wanted you to use your nen on him, knowing it worked in an unusual way.

When you wanted to heal someone, you used physical touch, and depending on the severity, it could be a touch of your finger to a kiss from your lips. Today, it was a simple touch.

You glanced at the TV, a Halloween themed add popping up. “Oh wow, they’re showing these real early this year.”

Shalnark looked up, biting down on his popsicle. “Huh, weird.”

He hummed, getting a mischievous look in his eyes. You were a real sweetheart, but also easily manipulated by sob stories. “You know, none of the Phantom Troupe has ever celebrated Halloween.”

This had your full attention immediately. “… what?”

———————

Ever since Shalnark informed you of the troupes lack of Halloween experience, you’ve been meticulously planning a way to celebrate with them.

It wasn’t easy getting them all together unless Chrollo willed it, so you’d have to go to the leader to ask for a favor.

You were one of the only members that knew of his location at all times. In your mind, it was because you had an important role, but in reality it was because Chrollo quite enjoyed your presence.

“Chrollo!”

You sprinted towards the dark haired man, and though calling out his name in public wasn’t exactly the safest thing to do, he didn’t scold you. He instead smiled, opening his arms and allowing you to jump into them. “I’m glad you could find me with ease. Let’s go to a cafe and you can discuss what you wanted to talk about with me.”

Chrollo never let you pay for your own things when he went places with you. He said it was because you did so much good for the Troupe, but that was only a half truth. He enjoyed taking care of you.

“Mmm… oh!”

You placed your pumpkin spice muffin down, and Chrollo couldn’t help but laugh when when you held up a finger as you chewed. “I almost forgot to actually talk about what I came for! Chrollo!”

He lifted a napkin, wiping at your mouth. “Shh, (Name). You shouldn’t speak my name out loud so easily, it’s not exactly a common name.”

You blushed, and he placed the dirty napkin in a nearby trash can. “Oh, sorry…”

He motioned for you to talk, and you cleared your throat. “Anyways, Shalnark told me that none of you have ever celebrated Halloween! Is that true?”

He stared at you for a moment, trying to see why you’re bringing that fact up. “Yes, that’s true, we haven’t c-“

Your tears surprised him, but not enough for him to react. You’re kind of known for being a bleeding heart, so his expression stayed neutral, but he did offer you his handkerchief. “Chrollo, Halloween is so much fun! You get to carve pumpkins, wear costumes, eat lots of treats…”

You paused, reaching out to grab his hand. “So, the reason I asked to see you…”

Chrollo waited for you to continue patiently. He couldn’t help but find your ditzy and forgetful nature endearing, so he smiled.

“I want the troupe to get together on Halloween at my house!”

This actually surprised him. He nearly choked on his strawberry scone, having to pat his chest for a moment. “You… you said the troupe? As in everyone?”

“Mhm!”

He stared at you for a moment to see if you were being serious. You were smiling, looking hopeful and expectant.

‘How… can I put this gently..?’

Chrollo squeezed your hand, causing you to tilt your head. “(Name), my sweet and kind friend, the troupe has only come together once in the past three years, and that was for an important heist. I’m not sure if they’ll want to meet for… a Halloween party.”

You giggled. “Oh, but I’m sure they’ll love it! Besides, if you order it, they’ll come!”

He sighed. You looked way too cute, giggling and smiling as you pulled out a notebook and began showing him the things you already had planned.

Sometimes, when he watched you, all he could see was Sarasa. Your perky personality and compassion for others reminded him of her so much, it was one of the reasons he adored you so.

And one of the reasons he had trouble telling you no.

“Alright, alright. I’ll ask them to come, but it won’t be mandatory.”

You squealed in delight, nearly jumping over the table to give him a hug. “Oh, thank you Chrollo! It’s going to be fun, I promise!”

He sighed, smiling and patting your back. Normally, Chrollo would push any other person away, but he let you get away with a lot. “Okay, (Name).”

———————

It was the day before Halloween, and you were sulking. Already, three of the Troupe members wouldn’t be able to come. Franklin, Kortopi, and Bonolenov each called to say they couldn’t make it.

You’d spent most of the week decorating your house and getting it ready for guests. Feitan, Shalnark, and Shizuku would be staying in your three guest bedrooms while the rest rented hotels.

“(Nameeeee) come open the door!”

You blinked, looking out the window to see Shizuku behind your door. “Oh, Shizuku, you’re early. I thought you’d be here tonight?”

She walked into your home, turning in a circle before tilting her head. “I wanted first pick of the rooms, so I finished up my job quick.”

That was only half true, she wanted more private time with you!

“Oh, that makes sense. You’re just in time then, I finished making all the beds a few minutes ago!”

She nodded and walked upstairs to pick her room. Not even five minutes later, you heard someone knocking at your door.

“Coming!”

You open the door to see Feitan standing behind it, holding…

“Feitan, is that… is that a pumpkin?”

“Halloween, pumpkins are important.”

He handed the pumpkin to you before pushing past you into your house. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked almost… proud of his “gift” for you? Feitan watched you carry the pumpkin into your kitchen, where you sat in on the counter.

“Oh wow, it’s huge! What a nice pumpkin!”

He nods, following you. “Stole best one.”

You held back a laugh, knowing he was a bit sensitive when it came to giving gifts and being nice. “Oh, I can tell. Thank you so much Fei!”

Feitan had the habit of following you around like a stray cat when he was around. It was an improvement to your relationship when you first joined the Phantom Troupe as an honorary member. He used to sprint away from you the second you looked at him, and now he followed a few feet behind at all times. Honestly, he was pretty cute. Like a stray cat.

“Hey princess!”

You blinked as your door was torn off its hinges and Uvogin walked in, laughing and stomping into your kitchen before picking you up into a crushing hug.

Feitan stood in the doorway, watching the interaction with narrowed eyes. “Careful, Uvo. She not like us. Fragile.”

uvogin looked down to see Feitan was right. The girl in his eyes was making a pained expression, patting his arm to signal she couldn’t breathe. “Oh, my bad.”

He let her go, keeping her steady as she drew in breath. “Woo… now that is a bear hug that I think an actual bear would give, Jesus Christ…”

You turned back towards the cabinets and began taking out what you would need to get started on baking. “Uvo, could you be a dear and grab my Halloween decorations from the attic? I tried to get them earlier, but they were way too heavy.”

“Of course!”

He walked up the stairs, leaving you to sigh softly. “Okay, let’s see what we can do about that door-“

“It’s aight, (Name). I’ve got it fixed.”

You nearly jump out of your skin when Phinks and Shalnark just appear behind you, and peek over them to see that your door was indeed fixed!

“Oh, thank you guys!” You give them both an affectionate pat to the arm before continuing your baking preparations.

———————

By the time you finish baking, your house is full of Phantom Troupe members. Pakunoda, Nobunaga, and Machi arrived individually within the last few hours. Machi shyly offered to help you bake, watching you from the corner of her eye as you worked. ‘Cute, she’s even wearing an apron…’ Machi thought, her eyes soft as she watched you.

Chrollo was the last to arrive, getting to your house at nearly 8 pm. He opened the door, every member looking up to him when he did. “Hello, everyone. I’m glad to see you could all make it.”

You rushed forward and took his coat, gently scolding him for not wearing a shirt underneath. He laughed, sitting down and smiling at the troupe. Chrollo waited for you to go back to the kitchen before his face returned to its usual serious expression.

“As you can see, (Name) has tried her hardest to make our first Halloween celebration the best it can be. You’ll do as she says, and have fun, though I’m sure none of you wish to upset our special girl.”

They all glanced between each other, nodding slowly. After that, they had a quick meeting to discuss non Halloween matters before (Name) came back into the living room. “Okay, I know I gathered you all here before Halloween, but it’s only to go over my plans and give you all your gifts!”

“Gifts? Aww, you didn’t have to do that for us, sweetheart.” Nobunaga said, smiling.

“But I wanted to! Lemme go grab them!”

You scurried up the stairs, giggling the whole way up. “It seems she’s excited about this.”

You walked down the stairs a few minutes later with a large box in your arms, whining a bit. “Hnn… it’s kind of heavy…”

Several of the boys jumped up to help you, but Feitan got there first. “Give. Too weak.”

You handed the box over, knowing Feitan was doing it to help you. “Thanks, Fei!” You gave him that pretty smile of yours, and the rest of the troupe grumbled lightly.

Feitan sat the box on your coffee table, using his sharp nails to slice open the tape. “…”

Inside were clothes, all the same design. “(Name) what exactly are these… gifts?” Shalnark asked, tilting his head as he pulled a set out.

“Oh, they’re matching pajamas! I was hoping we could all get a picture together!”

You hand out everyone’s clothes, smiling.

“How did you know our sizes?” Pakunoda asked, seeing the set of pajama was her size. You giggle, turning towards her.

“I have my ways~”

Surprisingly, most of them were completely fine dressing in the Halloween themed pajamas for pictures, and the ones that weren’t did it anyways.

Phinks sat on the couch after the pictures, humming. “Huh, these are pretty warm and soft. You mind if I take these with me back to my hotel?”

“I don’t mind at all, they’re yours after all!”

The people that weren’t staying the night filed out soon after, all thanking you, a few giving you hugs and cheeky kisses to her forehead.

“Goodnight, (Name). Sleep well, and thank you for this.”

Chrollo was the last to leave, saying that before cupping your cheek and planting a kiss on your forehead. It left you. A little flustered, but you still waved at them all. “Be safe, and make sure you’re here by 9 am!”

Shalnark, Feitan, and Shizuku stayed behind, the former two eating some leftovers you had in the fridge. “Wow, it’s been nearly a month since I’ve gotten to try your homemade cooking, (Name)! This is amazing!”

You felt your face heat up, giving your friends a sheepish smile. “I’m happy you’re enjoying it.”

Soon, everyone went to bed, and you climbed into your own, excited for the day to come.

You wake up in the middle of the night to the feeling of eyes on you. You’re quick to reach for your light switch, only for your hand to come in contact with someone’s face.

A hand covered your mouth before you could scream, the person shushing you gently. “Don’t worry, it’s just me, (Name).”

Shalnark sat, crouched next to your bed, that boyish smile on his face as he pulled his hand away. “Huh… why are… why are you in my room?”

“Oh, we’re watching you sleep.”

“We’re?”

You blinked, glancing around the room to see Feitan standing in your doorway, leaning against it. “I not watch, making sure he don’t try something.” Feitan corrected, glancing to the blonde.

“Oh, you wound me Fei. I would never hurt (Name)!”

“Not hurt, but might touch while sleeps.”

The blonde blushed, glancing down at you as you gave him a disturbed look. “No, I promise I wouldn’t do that! I just… you look really cute when you sleep!”

“… how many times have you watched me sleep??”

“… almost every time we have a mission together.”

Feitan nodded to confirm this, walking into your room. “He not mean any harm, just worried.”

Shalnark pouted at his friend. “So you were teasing me on purpose earlier?”

The two ignored him. “Worried? What does that mean?”

Feitan sighed, plopping down on your bed. “We… lost people before. Shalnark get anxious, not want you to get hurt. Watches you.”

You soften, gently patting the blondes head. “Aww, Shal, that’s really sweet. I’m okay though, I promise!”

You give them both a smile, tentatively patting Feitan’s arm. He tenses, but doesn’t move. ‘Progress!’

You kind of treat Feitan like a scared stray cat, and it works most of the time. After your gentle pat, he scoots closer ever so slightly. You rub your eyes and yawn. “Well, I’m going back to sleep.”

You turn around and pull the blanket up to your chin, snuggling into your pillow-

“Shizuku!?”

“Hi.”

The dark haired girl was lying next to you, wearing the Halloween pajamas you gave her. “W-when did you get here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

“She has.”

“Longer than Shal.”

You sigh, lying back on your pillow, accepting this. “Okay, as I said, I’m going to sleep. Just… don’t do anything weird and you can all stay.”

Strangely, having the three in your room helped you sleep better. It almost made you feel safe, knowing your friends were watching over you.

——————

The Troupe gathers in your living room at 9 am sharp, some looking tired, others perky. You’re surrounded by your comrades, some(namely Shizuku and Feitan) hovered around you shamelessly as you began to speak.

“Okay, the first thing on our list is pumpkin carving!”

You had Uvogin and Phinks help you carry in the pumpkins as Pakunoda and Machi laid out newspaper to keep your living room clean. “So this isn’t just normal pumpkin carving, it’s a contest! I’ll be the judge, and whoever makes the pumpkin I like the best, wins!”

“What’s prize?” Feitan asked, poking his pumpkin. You blinked at the shorter man.

“Oh… I think I completely forgot about a prize. Any ideas guys?”

You smiled, still in your cute pajamas. Shalnark raised his hand. “Shal?”

“How about a blowj-“

Phinks smacked the blonde over the head before Shalnark is pulled away by a few members and scolded in the corner.

“Hmm? What did he say?” You asked, tilting your head. Chrollo cleared his throat, the man surprisingly flustered easily.

“Nothing. How about… a kiss from you as a prize?”

You hummed softly. “A kiss? That doesn’t seem like a good prize, I don’t think anyone here would want th-“

The entire troupe started to argue with you, and you blush.

“Oh, um… okay. A kiss it is.”

This helped to motivate the group, but before they could start you raised your hand. “Two rules, guys. No nen, and you have to use these pumpkin carving tools.”

Already, Machi and Shalnark were pouting. Feitan took the pumpkin carving kit, raising an eyebrow at you. “… dull blade. Why?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be child safe.”

“(Name), we’re a band of thieves.” Chrollo said, his lips twitching into an amused smile. “We can handle actual knives.”

You whine and hand him his own kit, puffing out your cheeks. “Well too bad, thems the rules!”

You cross your arms and walk into the kitchen.

“Haha, you sure pissed her off, boss! Boss?”

Chrollo sat in the chair with his head in his hands, groaning. “I’m an idiot.”

Uvogin clapped him over the back with his large hand, laughing. “Oh don’t worry boss, you know she can be pouty when it comes to our safety.”

“Boss not wrong though. Kill people, can use knife.” Feitan grumbled, stabbing his pumpkin.

“Fei, I don’t think that’s how you carve a pumpkin.” Phinks said, crouching down.

“Tch, you know better?”

Phinks held up his phone, a tutorial on the screen. Pakunoda, Machi, and Shizuku sat together, ignoring the men as they carved their pumpkins, occasionally dodging flying pumpkin guts.

——————

You walked out of the kitchen 30 minutes later, carrying in some muffins shyly. “Sorry, I was a little rude earlier. I made some- oh, are you all done?”

You ignored the complete mess the troupe had made, happy that you laid out plenty of newspaper. Nobunaga nodded, holding up his pumpkin. For an expert in the sword, it looked… really bad.

“Yep, we just finished up!”

You hummed and looked over each pumpkin. “Oh, Paku, is yours a cat?”

She nodded, trying to keep a neural expression. It was a little cat, and you couldn’t help but coo and take a picture. “Cute!”

It wasn’t amazing, but cute nonetheless. You continued looking, the next one to catch your attention being Shalnark’s. It was an image of some anime character, and despite looking amateur, you could recognize the character. “Oh, is that sailor moon? It’s really good Shal!”

He gave you a proud smile, holding his pumpkin i his lap. The last pumpkin that caught your attention was Feitan’s, which was honestly the best looking one. It was a detailed carving of human heart, and you couldn’t help but be impressed.

“I think we have a winner!”

You pick up Feitan’s pumpkin and hold it up for everyone to see. Despite being upset they didn’t win, everyone also agreed his was the best looking.

You placed the pumpkin on your table before smiling. Under his jacket, Feitan’s cheeks were a soft pink as he stood before you. “Fei, are you ready for your prize?”

He froze, his hands trembling slightly in his pockets. Feitan had always been on the shy side, and when it came to you, his shy nature only intensified. The others could pick this up, especially Phinks and Shalnark. The two were about to speak up, but you talked first.

“Fei, I won’t kiss you if you don’t want it.”

His eyes widen slightly. How should he tell you that it’s not that he doesn’t want to kiss you, it’s the fact that he wasn’t sure how his body would react to such a thing? Shit, it was already hard enough to not pop a boner in your presence, a kiss might kill him!

“Kiss… kiss alright. Can handle it,” he tried to say nonchalantly, but his words came out shaky. You smiled warmly, stepping closer and gently tugging the hood of his coat down.

“Are you ready?”

His heart thumped against his chest rapidly, his eyes half lidded as he stared at your soft lips. “Y-yeah…”

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his for a moment before pulling away, giggling. “There you go!”

You open your eyes, only to see him tug his hood back into place and speed away from you. Feitan’s face was bright red, and he could feel his pants tighten as he his under hid coat.

“Well,” Chrollo said, getting everyone’s attention. Only few people would be able to read the hint of jealousy in his eye as he spoke. “What’s next, (Name)?”

———————

After a quick lunch, the group gathered at a corn maze. “Okay everyone, we’re going in groups of two, using the buddy system in case we get separated! Stranger danger, ya know?”

Phinks patted your head. “No one else is here, (Name), we’re the only people in line. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble with stranger danger.”

“Besides, we’re all adults and nen users.” Pakunoda said, slightly amused by your concern.

“Hmph! We’re doing the buddy system, there’s scare actors in there. What if one of them can use nen? It’s better to stick to pairs of two!”

Chrollo nodded, paying for everyone to enter. “That’s smart, (Name).”

The pairs were as so: Chrollo and Pakunoda, Phinks and Feitan, Shalnark and Machi, Uvogin and Nobunaga, then Shizuku and you.

Pakunoda glanced at you and Shizuku. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, (Name)? Shizuku can be a bit forgetful, I don’t want you two to get separated. You’re scared easily, aren’t you (Name)?”

Shizuku huffed before pulling you into her chest. “Hey, I’ll keep her safe! I’ll stay focused!”

You blushed a little, your face directly in her breasts. “Mmph!”

She released you, patting your head. “Whoops, you alright?”

You nodded shyly, your face hot.

The group entered the maze, taking different paths. It was large and intricate, more like a labyrinth than a maze. Shizuku kept a hold on your hand, occasionally squeezing it when someone jumped out to scare the two of you.

“Oh. (Name), are you scared?”

You were trembling and holding onto her arm, giving her a slight nod. “A little, y-yeah…”

The two of you continued to walk through the maze, but Shizuku seemed to space out. “Hmm…”

She let go of your hand for just a moment, and when you attempted to grab her hand again, she was already gone. “Shizuku? Shizuku!”

You shook in your little Mary Janes as you tried to find her. Just then a man with a chainsaw begin chasing you, causing you to shriek and sprint in a random direction. “AGH! SHIZUKU! SOMEONE!”

You cried in fear, spotting a familiar figure and nearly sobbing. “Uvo! Nobu!”

They looked up, Uvogin opening his arms to allow you to jump into them. He held you close as you trembled and cried, obviously terrified. Nobunaga gave you a look of concern before glancing up, unsheathing his sword and the man approached.

“Hey, back off. She’s scared.”

The man takes one look at the two menacing figures before turning around and running away. Nobunaga turns back to you, gently running his hand over your hair to smooth it out. “Hey, he’s gone. You’re okay now.”

You sniffle a little, but relax into Uvogin’s arms. “There ya go, princess. Just relax. We’ll find our way out.”

The two spent the rest of the maze in silence. Their intimidating presences alone were enough to keep all the scare actors at bay. By the end of the maze, you had fallen asleep, your arms around Uvogin’s neck.

“Uvo, Nobu? Oh thank god, you found her!”

Shalnark ran towards the three, looking over you with relieved eyes. Nobunaga held a finger up to his lips, the blonde getting quiet. “She’s sleeping, Shal. Did anyone find Shizuku?”

Said girl was being scolded by Feitan close by. She seemed sorry enough, glancing at you with regretful eyes. “I didn’t mean to leave her, I got distracted…”

Chrollo took you from Uvogin’s arms, sighing softly as he tucked your hair behind your ear. “That doesn’t matter, all that matters is she’s safe. Let’s get her home.”

By the time the group got home, it was dark. You awoke when you heard a wet thwack!

“Huh? What was that?”

Chrollo set you down. “I’m not sure, I think it’s coming from around the corner.”

You peeked arousn the corner, your eyes going wide. “The pumpkins! Hey!”

You run forward, the troupe following close behind. A group of drunk men were smashing the pumpkins you all worked hard on. “Hey, you assholes! Get away from-“

You attempted to shop them away, but were pushed to the ground. “Shut up, bitch. Stupid whore thinks she can tell us what to do…”

Thankfully, Phinks caught you before you could hit your head on the concrete, his strong arms lifting up up. “You alright, sunshine?”

You nod, sniffling a little, tears running down your cheeks. “They… they’re smashing our pumpkins…”

He did his best to comfort you as the rest of the Troupe advanced. “Trash, make her cry.” Feitan spits, wielding his umbrella.

“What should we do, boss? Can’t let them hurt our sweethearts feelings, can we?” Pakunoda asked, ruffling your hair as she passed by.

Chrollo hummed. “Take them out, but wait until we get (Name) inside.”

Pakunoda, Feitan, and Shizuku stayed outside while the rest walked in. You heard screaming for a minute, then the sound of Shizuku’s nen activating.

“I’m sorry about the pumpkins, (Name). I know you liked them.” Shalnark said, sitting next to you as you sulked on the couch.

“It’s okay… I got pictures of all of them… at least…”

Shalnark patted your back before opening his phone. “I’ll call in some pizza, okay? Uvogin and Nobunaga brought alcohol, so why don’t we watch some horror movies and chill?”

You nodded, rubbing your teary eyes. “Yeah, that sounds fun…”

——————

It didn’t take long for everyone to get pleasantly buzzed, you included. The troupe gathered around your TV, each taking turns to sit next to you. After all, you always jumped into the lap of whoever sat next to you when you got scared!

You stood up, humming. “Imma grab some treats, made ‘em yesterday.”

Little do you know, Shizuku had an idea. You returned with the tray, placing it on the coffee table and smiling. “Okay, dig in g-“

The dark haired girl snuck up behind you, yanking your skirt down and sitting you on the coffee table. “Let’s play a game, whoever can eat her out and make her cum the fastest, wins.”

You sat there dumbfounded, trying to process the fact that your pussy was on full display for the entire troupe, and they were all blatantly staring. You tried to close your legs, whining, but Shizuku kept them held open. “H-hey!”

You pour at her, but you don’t make any further moves to stop her. You’ve never had someone eat you out before, you hadn’t even had sex, so the thought of all 8 members present taking turns making you cum was making your pussy drool in delight.

It’s not like you haven’t imagined it a few times. Your fellow troupe members were attractive, and although this was a little embarrassing, you were a little excited.

“F-fuck…”

Phinks crouched down in front of you, taking a good whiff. You squeaked, your face hot with embarrassment.

He’s quickly shoved away by Machi, who huffed. “You said you get to go first? We’ll have to draw straws.”

Chrollo cleared his throat, the bulge in his pants more than evident. “That’s a good idea, Machi. Get the straws.”

You were allowed to sit down on the couch, a pillow under your hips to get you comfortable.

The first one up was Feitan. You felt a bit sorry for him, he was obviously inexperienced in such a thing, staring at your pussy with wife eyes, his hands shaking a little when he grabbed you by the hips.

He lowered his head to your pussy, looking up at you with those dark eyes. He took his coat off, now only wearing pants. Even from this angle, you could see the tent in his pants, his cheeks a light shade of pink.

“Come on, Fei. Hurry up!” Phinks yelled, tapping his foot impatiently.

Usually, Feitan could be pretty intimidating to most people, but you knew that he wasn’t actually a bad guy, he was just a bit shy and awkward. You played with his hair, trying to encourage him. “It’s okay, take your time.”

Even as you said this, you lightly bucked your hips trying to reach his face. You couldn’t help it, he was so close to burying his nose in your pussy.

Maybe he just needs a little guidance…

You look at him, grabbing a fist full of his hair and gently guiding him to your cunt. His eyes widened, and when his lips touched your pussy, he moaned into you. Feitan’s tongue darted out of his mouth, testing the waters.

“Mmph…”

He buried his face in your pussy, licking and sucking everywhere. Occasionally he’d touch your clit, but you knew without some more guidance, he wouldn’t be able to make you cum.

Gently, you grabbed his hair again, cooing softly as you guided him towards your clit. “Here, Fei.”

He glanced up at you through his dark eyelashes, immediately latching onto your clit. This had you mewling, your hips bucking into his face.

Feitan was a fast learner, you only had to show him how to please you once and he was on it like a hawk. After a minute, you ended up cumming on his tongue, panting softly.

Phinks clapped Feitan on the back as the dark haired man pulled away. “Hey, it took a bit but you got her there! Nice job, man.”

Feitan looked at you shyly, patting your thigh. “… good girl.”

‘Oh, he’s so cute.’ You thought, wanting to give him a kiss or something for his efforts, but the next person up was already crawling between your legs.

Pakunoda held your thighs apart, her thumb rubbing against your clit. “Is that good, princess?”

You nodded, whining a little. “Mhm… ahh!”

You squeak when she inserts a finger, now sucking on your clit as she adds another finger in. You bucked your hips, but she keeps you still.

You cum pretty quick, the woman smiling up at you as you catch your breath. “Mm, you taste divine, (Name).”

She gave your pussy a kiss before moving away for the next person to come.

Chrollo and Shalnark were similar in the way they ate you out. They liked to make a lot of eye contact, their fingers curling inside you, sometimes chuckling on your clit as they suckled on it.

Phinks and Uvogin were rough, their big tongues filling your pussy up, their fingers stretching you out. They both groaned when your walls clenched around their fingers as you came.

Nobunaga and Shizuku were a little desperate, their tongues lapping at you and fingers thrusting into you at ungodly speeds. Although you came quick, it wasn’t as satisfying when you came the previous times.

Machi was much like Pakunoda, taking her time and making you cum on her tongue easily. She was the only on to grab your breasts, making the others jealous. They hadn’t even though of that!

By the end of the night, you were exhausted!

The pillow underneath you was soaked with your cum, your skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Our sweetheart seems tired.” Phinks teased, crouching down to help you get dressed.

The group decided to sleep in the living room, and you fell asleep being cuddled by the entire troupe.

Was it easy being loved by a band of thieves? No. Was it satisfying?

Oh yes.

“This was the best Halloween ever…” you whispered into Chrollo’s chest. He smiled and kissed the top of you head.

“It really was.”

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