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zorosangell · 22 hours ago

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⛥ﾟ・。 oiran

synopsis: while luffy and the others are off saving sanji, zoro is assigned the role of a ronin, and told to keep a low profile as he roams the land of wano... but he risks revealing himself and the entire crew when he discovers you're a nearby oiran, and in need of his rescue.

cw: lots and lots of fluff, comfort, zoro is down bad for reader, reader is super pretty, zoro does NOT play about you, took me hella long for some reason.

a/n: i took the song hell n back by summer walker as inspo for this

"Thanks," Zoro nodded with a smile, giving the boat owner a thankful nod as he took a box of sushi from him, quickly setting it down in his lap and cracking it open.

Though he had failed to notice the word WASABI written in bold on the side of the tray.

In his travels throughout the Flower Capital, Zoro had landed himself in a little bit of trouble, having been arrested for the crimes of a serial killer, and convicted as a murderer when he cut down a very important magistrate—who was the real culprit—at his own execution.

Luckily, after defeating the magistrate's followers and walking out the execution yard, he had managed to stumble across a literal sushi boat leaving one of the docks, which gave him the perfect means to escape.

While also offering the perfect opportunity for him to stuff his face.

Eager to eat, he picked up the first piece, which was topped with fresh salmon nigiri and salmon roe, the rice a little more green than the swordsman expected.

But he was too hungry to care, not giving it a second thought as he shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

An act he was quick to regret.

Cheeks puffed and nose scrunched, a bead of sweat trailed down his temple as his face contorted into an expression of discomfort.

'It burns!'

Frantic for something to cool his tongue, he snapped his head around, letting out small hums of muffled agony as he searched for his sake gourd.

Though the spiciness made him feel like his mouth was being seared by flames, most of the heat was moving upward toward the back of his nose, hitting his sinuses just enough to make his eyes water.

Typically, he enjoyed things that sat more on the bitter side, but he'd never imagined food could get this spicy.

Quickly grabbing his sake, he guzzled well over half of it, ignoring the two large streams running down the sides of his mouth as that was what finally stopped the burning.

But as he began to regain feeling in his mouth, he realized that the sushi piece itself actually tasted delicious, slightly smiling at the flavor.

'Looks like I'll just need a sake chaser.'

"My, my! Look at this!" the older man next to him gasped, marveling at a mysterious flyer in his hands. "To think that such a breath-taking beauty actually exists! It's unbelievable!"

Completely unbothered, Zoro went back to stuffing his face, following each bite with a huge gulp of sake.

Though his curiosity began to pique when the man continued to stare at the paper, almost as if he was hypnotized.

"What's unbelievable?" Zoro asked, muffled, as he gulped down another piece. "Hot!"

"An oiran nearby by the name of (f/n)! She's said to be one of the most beautiful women in the country!" the man answered, holding up the paper for the swordsman to see. "It's rumored that her beauty would give oiran Komurasaki a run for her money."

Zoro took another lazy swig of his gourd, brow raised as he flippantly glanced at the flyer, only for his eye to blow wide at the sight.

It was you, your features gracefully laid out and unmistakable in the detailed ink painting.

Surprised, Zoro spit out his mouthful of sake, shooting it directly into the face of a nearby patron.

"Hey! If you don't like wasabi, don't eat it! But I won't tolerate you spitting on other customers!" the owner of the boat shouted, brows furrowed as he glared at the swordsman. "Hold on! Have you even paid?!"

"Lemme see that!" Zoro growled, completely ignoring the owner as he snatched the flyer out of the old man's hands, looking at it closer.

It was indeed you, as radiant and stunning as he'd last seen, which was well over a month ago.

He wasn't told what identity you were assigned or where you were stationed—a precaution taken by Kin'emon as he'd seen throughout his travels how hell-bent the swordsman was on protecting you, and couldn't trust the man not to seek you out if he knew.

And, of course, his intuition would be right, as the paper suddenly began to crumple in Zoro's hand, his expression dropping into a deep scowl.

Zoro was dim, but he wasn't stupid.

During his time in the capital, he had managed to piece together what the whole oiran business was about.

He'd overheard the stories.

He'd seen the men.

It was nothing but an excuse for stuffy rich guys to gawk and leer at women, treating them like objects and products to be bought rather than actual people.

His fist clenched even tighter, veins bulging in his hand as it practically shook, nearly destroying the paper.

While eating out somewhere nice, he'd eavesdrop on some of the stories the men of higher status would tell, and to call their actions harassment would be a grave understatement.

He grit his teeth, attempting to fight off the swell of anger threatening to burst from his chest.

Just the thought of any man doing those things to you made his blood boil, and his hands itch for his swords.

Plan be damned, he wasn't gonna let anything happen to you on his watch.

Abruptly turning around, he yolked up the boat owner by the front of his yukata, the man letting out a fearful yelp as Zoro pulled him closer with a deadly glare.

He held out the crumpled flyer for the man to see, tone deadly serious and leaving no room for argument.

"Tell me where I can find her..."

"Care for some sake, sir?" a blonde-haired geisha asked, a slight flush on her cheeks as she approached Zoro, who was sitting rigidly on his tatami mat.

The man was certainly a sight, and every other girl in the room was having a hard time focusing on their clients with him sitting so close.

He was significantly more handsome than their typical patrons.

Pronounced jawline.

Clearly muscular physique.

Dark, bedroom eyes.

A dream come true for a woman in this profession.

"No, thank you," he curtly denied, not even bothering to look the girl in the eye.

But he had turned down every one of their advancements.

Yet, in all actuality, he wasn't even supposed to be there.

Once the boat owner told him where to find you, he immediately jumped ship, leaving behind some money to pay for his meal before landing on the riverbank.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him with nightfall drawing ever closer, as he knew that was when red-light districts were at their most busy.

And only after mugging a few rich guys—using their money to pay the exorbitant entrance fee—did he finally gain access to your room, entering himself under the guise of a wealthy samurai.

Then, he laid in wait, watching with a certain disdain as the other men practically jumped the other girls, getting particularly handsy particularly quick.

But he did his best to ignore it, instead focusing on the fact that you had yet to arrive, worry beginning to spike in his veins as he had been sitting there for thirty minutes, with little to no sign of you at all.

"Hey," he called, snappily, snatching the girl out of her lovesick stupor. "When the hell is the oiran comin' out?"

Visibly, her shoulders dropped, a pout settling on her painted lips as she finally caught the message, now understanding why he was so cold toward everyone else.

He was waiting for her.

'Much like the rest of the men that pass through nowadays...'

Sucking up her slight annoyance, she faced the man with a polite smile, fixing her grip on the tray of liquor.

"Oiran (f/n) will be—"

"Lords! And esteemed samurai of Wano!" an older woman suddenly exclaimed, seeming to appear out of nowhere, utterly elated.

Zoro snapped his attention away from the girl, eye zeroing in on the door the madam was standing in front of.

He could sense you standing just behind it, and was fighting off the all-encompassing urge to bust it down and drag you away from the place.

"It is with great honor that the Ogimoto House presents to you our very own shining star... oiran (f/n)!"

As the door slammed open, a woman in the corner suddenly began to play the shamisen, the other girls joining together to gracefully dance as you made your entrance, carefully stepping into the light.

And once Zoro caught sight of you, nearly all the air was knocked out of his lungs.

You were a vision.

Your hair was tied in a both simple yet elaborate updo, adorned with several golden, gem-encrusted hairpins, two small strands of hair falling before your ears.

Your kimono was heavily layered, but richly decorated with bold greens and intricate embroidery that accented the fabric's dragon design—the most prominent one, ironically, missing its left eye, much like your swordsman.

Your makeup was surprisingly simple for an oiran, more focused on accentuating your natural features, while offering small pops of color to your cheeks.

Zoro's heart added another beat to its pattern, feeling as if the skin on his chest was tightening over itself, rendering him unable to breath.

Just being able to look at you brought him an embarrassing amount of happiness.

Lowering your fan, you flashed the men a coy smile, their eyes quite literally turning into hearts at the sight.

"Sorry for the delay," you simpered, gracefully walking into the room.

Because of traditional oiran etiquette, it was impossible for you to move faster than a mile an hour, but that only added to the appeal as that made it seem as if you were floating through the air.

Calculated, your eyes scanned over the crowd, analyzing each face within the room.

You'd recognized a few of the usual suspects—rich, thirsty men who would fall over themselves trying to catch your attention—and noticed a few new faces—skeptical types who wanted to see if the rumors of your looks were true.

But one man among them all stuck out to you.

You'd recognize that head of hair anywhere...

Internally, you let out a sigh, fighting off the wide smile threatening to break out on your face.

'He just can't follow directions, can he?'

Your swordsman.

Though you two had only been apart for about a month, give or take, you couldn't help but allow your heart to swell with joy at seeing him again.

Countless nights you'd found yourself pining over the man, missing his presence by your side.

His genuine, obnoxious laugh.

His funny, snarky remarks.

His drunken, horrible flirting.

His bad habit of resting his hand on your hip, keeping you tethered to his side.

All that was why you found your feet carrying you over to his mat, entire body burning at the intensity of his stare and the cockiness of his smirk.

"May I join you, sir?" you asked, slyly, biting back the grin threatening to crack on your lips. "I don't believe I've seen you here before."

He let out a quiet chuckle, perfectly fine with playing along, so long as he was your only customer.

"Be my guest," he greeted, his hand instinctively coming up to pat his thigh.

You typically sat in his lap when you two were alone, but he was so excited to see you, he didn't really care.

Though, when your eyes flashed him a scolding look, his hand halted in mid-air, brow raising in confusion.

You glanced toward the other patrons discreetly, taking notice that they all were still watching intently, before turning your attention back to your swordsman.

'We can't do that here, dumbass,' your expression said. 'You're gonna blow my cover.'

It finally hit him, and he nodded with an adorably vacant look.

'My bad,' he backed off.

"Oiran (f/n)!" a man suddenly shouted from across the room, grabbing everyone's attention as he bustled to his feet and scrambled toward you. "Oiran (f/n)!"

Despite your confusion, you turned to him with a warm look, masking your apprehension.

"Yes, Sir Kyoguro?" you asked.

You'd recognized the man from a few of his previous visits, and you made a point to remember every name you met, in case they could be of use to you later.

"I must say, I am bewitched by your beauty, absolutely enthralled by your grace, and in awe of your poise!"

You pretended to be abashed by the comments, slightly hiding yourself behind your fan.

"Sir Kyoguro, you flatter me."

Zoro nearly gagged, rolling his eyes at the sight.

He knew you were faking it, seeing as you'd just given him a real reaction only moments ago, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"(f/n)!" the man eagerly lurched forward, taking your hand in his. "I am utterly taken with you. I see no other woman that can take your place in my heart!"

You fought off a grimace, smiling down uneasily at the stranger, who seemed to have found it in his right to touch you without your permission.

Zoro, on the other hand, was less than pleased.

Arms tightly crossed over his chest, his gripped his yukata, occupying his hands to prevent himself from shooting up and severely hurting the man.

It was painfully obvious that you were uncomfortable, yet you seemed to be taking it in stride.

How many other interactions had you had like this one?

How many men have touched you without your say so?

How many times have you had to hide your distress behind a kind smile?

'Bastard...'

He grit his teeth, fingers tightening painfully into a fist.

"This is why... I want you to marry me!"

Your entire world scratched to halt, Zoro's eye widening at the words.

"I-I beg your pardon?" you weakly stuttered, utterly shocked, praying you heard him wrong.

"I've already paid off your contract and then some. So tonight we leave for the Flower Capital! There we will be wed! And we'll finally be able to start our lives together!"

Your heart practically sank to your feet, the very thought making you shiver under your skin.

It was unheard of for an oiran to get a marriage proposal just within a month of working, much less one where the client pays well over the asking price.

Kin'emon telling you that fact was the only thing reassuring you throughout this whole endeavor.

As cheesy as it was, you had no intention of marrying anyone else in this world other than Zoro, whether the wedding was real or not.

But it wasn't like you could outright say no, or simply run away.

You'd blow your cover that way, and the others needed you to find out everything you could from the nobles of Wano.

'Of all people, why did this have to happen to me?'

It was safe to say... you were shitting your pants.

In a desperate attempt to debunk this, you turned to the madam, but she gave you a proud thumbs up, nodding in concurrence.

'Fuck!'

"And while we're on the topic... please forgive me if this comes off too vulgar for your delicate ears," the man leaned in closer, whispering so only you could catch it.

You shivered, terrified of what nonsense he might say.

"Once we reach the Flower Capital, I must insist that we start the process of producing an heir at once. My family is in great need of one, you see? And we need to start his upbringing right away."

You nearly laughed at the statement, eyes wide, nearly disbelieving of the words that just left his mouth.

There's no way he just said that...

But he did.

And Zoro heard him loud and clear.

And right then and there was when the swordsman decided the time for sitting idly by was over, plan be damned—Traffy could make another one.

It'd be a cold day in hell before he ever let you get married to some pervert for some mission, much less have a kid with him.

Silently, Zoro stood up from his mat, rising to his full height ominously quiet.

The entire room suddenly turned their attention to him, you included, your lips letting out a faint gasp as you caught a glimpse of his eyes, which were darkened with malice.

You recognized the look instantly... and you knew it spelled trouble.

'Oh, no...'

Your swordsman clenched his fist, grabbing the air as if it were one of his swords, before winding up his arm for a swing.

"Zoro, please... he didn't mean anything by it... we'll figure something out, alright?" you tried to calm him down, completely ignoring the fact that you used his real name, and the fact that it was completely inappropriate to talk to a customer that way.

You were more preoccupied with making sure he didn't kill anybody.

But his mind was already made up.

Suddenly, a dark, shiny substance coated his arm from his fingertips to his elbow, emanating a menacing, purple glow.

'HA!'

If he was using his haki, there was no point in talking anymore.

You sighed, exasperatingly rolling your eyes, giving up on any hopes of calming him down and simply waiting for the inevitable.

"No Sword Style... Tatsumaki!"

Faster than everyone else could see, he swung his arm through the air, creating a giant, aggressive air funnel that knocked the sniveling man before you out cold—the winds so harsh that it blew the hairpins right out your hair and tore through the roof of the house, letting in the torrential downpour from outside.

While everyone was distracted, Zoro scooped you up in his arms, bridal style, your yelp of surprise snatching back their attention.

"Hey!" the madam shouted, furious. "You put her down this instant!"

"I'm stealing the woman!" Zoro announced, running right past her and out the exit, snatching up the large sack of money the man left. "And the cash!"

"Don't tell them that!" you lightly smacked him in the chest, laughing, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the pelting rain forcing your loose hair to stick to your face.

Breaking down the door to the exit, your swordsman sprinted out toward the dirt road, the owner of the house along with your other loyal followers chasing you both outside.

"Get back here!"

"Where are you going with the oiran?!"

"You can't take her!"

"Someone stop him!"

"Oiran (f/n)! We'll save you!"

As if you needed saving...

"Y'know, most guys say hi, how are ya before kidnapping a girl from her house," you teased, turning to your swordsman.

"Most girls typically say thank you after being saved from an arranged marriage," he countered, his trademark cocky grin plastered on his face.

"What other girls are you saving?" you playfully huffed, brows furrowing as you tugged at his cheek.

Amused, Zoro let out a small chuckle, rolling his eyes.

He'd missed you... desperately.

Looking over your shoulder, you checked to see if the men were still chasing you, happy to see that they had given up, all of them stopping and turning back toward the house.

'So much for loyal...'

Pushing the thought to the side, you suddenly cupped your swordsman's face in your hands, thumb softly gliding over his cheekbone.

"I missed you," you smiled up at him, sincerely, taking a moment to re-familiarize yourself with his face.

You'd missed him... desperately.

And the man seemed even handsomer than you remembered.

Finally a decent distance away from the house, Zoro stopped in his tracks, pulling over right in the middle of the road.

"Stand on my feet," he stated, shifting his grip to put you down.

You were only wearing tabi socks, and he didn't want you to get muddy feet.

Following his instructions, you stepped carefully onto the tops of his feet, his hands sliding down to your hips to balance you.

Though, once he was sure you were steady, he didn't hesitate in pulling you flush against him and smashing his lips against yours.

Your eyes widened, slightly surprised by the sudden movement, before you instantly melted into his embrace, relishing the way his strong arms felt wrapped around you.

He kissed you like he was famished, like you were water in his desert, his blunt fingertips having a near bruising grip on your hips.

Moments like these made him wonder what life would be like if the two of you didn't have to split up every two fucking seconds.

Pulling you even closer, he only deepened the kiss, his eagerness electrifying you right down to your core.

Emotional displays of this magnitude... coming from him?

In public?

You never thought you'd see the day.

Pulling back with a soft pop, you took a moment to catch your breath, unable to fight off the stupid smile settling on your lips.

"I should get married off more often," you chuckled, breathlessly, resting your hands on his chest for purchase.

He scoffed, scooping you up again before going back to running, hoping to find somewhere to shelter you both from the rain.

Glancing down at your smug grin, he smirked, rolling his eyes before placing a quick peck on your forehead.

"Don't push it."

#one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa #roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro #zoro x reader #zorosangell #op

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domesticgoddess22 · 2 days ago

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banana creampie

a thanksgiving one shot

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader summary: Your dad is hosting Thanksgiving this year, and he's invited his closest friends, including Joel Miller, who drives you to get ingredients for your famous banana cream pie. warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), car sex, unprotected piv, daddy kink, breeding kink, cowgirl, rough sex, creampie, daddy issues, TLOU AU no outbreak, dubcon, praise kink word count: 3.3k rating: explicit MDNI

Happy Holidays <3 This is a little something I cooked up on Thanksgiving day, so I hope you enjoy it. Sorry it isn't edited yet.

~~~~~~~~

Rays of orange spilled across the living room carpet, the sun peeking through the curtains that ebbed and flowed to the cool Austin breeze. The slivers of the light that dotted the couch warmed your bare legs, still shining from the lotion you lathered yourself up with. You turned the TV volume to blasting to overpower the chaotic sounds of your dad’s cooking.

“You gonna get dressed and help your old man out here, kiddo?” Your dad’s head poked out from around the archway that led to the kitchen, a greasy spatula in hand and your brow furrowed at the drips that now splattered on the white tile.

“I am dressed,” you contested, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You just came back from college, celebrated your twenty-second birthday even, but your dad would always see you as a kid.

He frowned, eyes closing as he shook his head in disapproval before dipping back into the kitchen. It would take some getting used to, your new attire since coming back from NYU, that is. If there’s one thing your fashion degree taught you, it’s how to dress. You wore a juniper green corset top, laced up from the front and tied together to display your breasts nicely. The top was fashioned with a black, skin tight mini skirt with a slit along the right thigh, leaving little to the imagination.

You groaned, rolling off the couch lazily, but careful enough not to ruin your hair. Big, glossy curls cascaded down your back, bouncing slightly as you stood. There was a bow as red as wine that held your hair together in a half updo, so any cream from the pie you were about to make wouldn’t splash into your hair.

You dragged your feet to the kitchen, cracking open the pantry and digging for the ingredients to make your famous banana cream pie.

“So whose all comin’ again?” You asked, eyeing the recipe to determine if you should still double the portions. You knew your dad’s friends were comin’, they always did, but you figured you’d check and make sure there wasn’t any changes.

“Donna and Rick, Keith, Rob,” your dad began listing off his friends, cursing when a splash of sausage grease sprayed his arm. “Oh yeah, and Joel and Sarah are comin’.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh?” You tried to come off casual, like your heart wasn’t about to burst in your chest at the sound of your dad’s best friend–the hottest guy on the block. “Thought they were goin’ to Tommy’s this year?”

“They were, but Tommy and Maria are sick, so there’s been a change of plans,” your dad said, oblivious to how Joel’s name reddened your cheeks.

“That okay?” Your dad finally asked when you didn’t say anything.

“‘Course, why wouldn’t it be?”

“I guess I forgot to tell ya with all the holiday craziness, it must of slipped my mind. Do you have enough ingredients to make your little tart?”

“Pie,” you corrected. “It’s a banana cream pie, dad.” You chewed your cheek, annoyed with his inability to pay any attention to you.

“Right, of course, of course. Do you have everything you need?” He’s half focused on checking the turkey now, the oven door screeching at the hinges as he stabs a thermometer into the near-browning meat.

“Actually, I’m gonna need more cream if I double this recipe.” You frowned, thinking about how you’d need to run to the store on Thanksgiving day and fight traffic and long lines. Not to mention, you haven’t gotten your license yet, there was no need for it in New York with all the subways and taxi cabs.

“Call Joel ‘n ask him to be a doll and pick some up for you ‘fore he gets here.”

You slipped back into the living room, away from the hiss of sausages cooking, and flipped your phone open. Joel picked up, the sound of his rumbly voice left you forgetting what it was you called for in the first place.

“Hey, darlin’. What do you need?”

“Hey. Was just wonderin’ if you could be a doll and pick up some heavy cream for me before you get here?”

You heard him laugh through his nose. “On Thanksgiving Day?”

“The stores are open for a half-day,” you said flatly. “But I guess if you don’t want my famous banana cream pie, then don’t bother.” There was a sweet, playful lilt to your tone at the latter, but their was a shuffling sound followed by a car door slamming.

You heard the sound of the front door crank open, as old and rusty as it was, and your head whipped around to see the very man you were on the phone with. He held a case of bears in his other hand. The two of you mirrored each other, flipping your phones shut.

“Look who decided to come back from New York.” Maybe it was wishful thinking or ovulation that was playing tricks on your mind, but you swore that his eyes clung to your hips, your breasts.

“For now.” You said, ending the conversation right then and there. You didn’t want to entertain questions about what direction your career was going in and all that bullshit that you didn’t have answers to. “So I take it you’re not gettin’ cream then?”

“Didn’t say that. 'Course I want your pie.” He smirked at you right as Sarah came flying in, a giant sack of potatoes in her hand. She nearly jumped out of her boots when she saw you, screaming your name in excitement.

“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!” Sarah dropped the potatoes on the floor with a thump, rushing to hug you. Your arms tightened around her, breathing in the sweet, citrusy scent of her curls.

“Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever! And you’ve gotten so big!” It was true. Last time you saw Sarah was probably a year ago. She had just started middle school, but now she was almost as tall as you. “What, did ya hit a growth spurt or something?!” She beamed at you proudly.

“I’m 5’1” now!”

“Where’s your dad?” Joel asked.

“Kitchen. Makin’ a mess, cooking up a storm.”

“Hey bud,” you hear Joel say casually to your dad. And then you hear him say that he’s going to take you to the store, ordering Sarah to get started on the potatoes while the two of you run out. You feel your face go hot and your palms all sweaty at the thought of being alone with Joel. The two of you have never been alone before.

You rush to the side table, dotting your lips with a subtle, pink gloss. Joel strides back into the living room.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“It takes two people to go pick up some cream?” You taunt, and not quite sure why you do. Your heart was soaring at just the thought of being alone with him, and maybe it was because of that you put on the facade. The mask that you didn’t want to, just so he didn’t somehow find out that you were dying to be around him.

“Did New York teach you to be this sassy? I liked it better when you were just Texas sassy.” He smirked, grabbing his keys and motioning for you to follow him to the front of the house to his truck parked in the driveway. Still the same old chevy. Still the same old Joel.

“Aww, are you sayin’ you missed me?” You liked keeping up with his playful, teasing banter.

“We all did.” There was a sweet look in those big brown eyes that, for the first time, locked on yours. “Didn’t think you were gonna come back to this old town.”

“Yeah, I’m still figuring things out I guess. New York… wasn’t everything I had imagined it would be.” The thought seeped in and you felt the pang of disappointment.

“You’re young. You have plenty of chances to try things, fuck up, and then try som’ new.”

The engine roars to life, and you realize then that you were freezing. But it was too late to change now, Joel was already halfway down the block by the time you really gave it some thought.

“Those flimsy pieces of fabric not keepin’ you warm?” He gave you a quick side glance. He sounded like a scolding father with the way he said it. Not the same judgement as your dad, but of a similar breath, as if to say ‘I told you you shouldn’t have worn that in this weather.’

“I’m fine,” you scowled, but Joel must not have believed you as he cranked up the heater.

“I have a sweatshirt in the back, you can wear that when we get out.” He jabbed a thumb toward the back of the cab, and then gave you another side glance, this time his eyes were on your thighs. “I know I ain’t your dad but–”

“No, you’re not.”

“You wear som’ like that, on a day like today, Kieth is gonna get drunk and his eyes’ll be all over you,” his face scrunched in disgust.

“I can handle Kieth,” you snorted. Kieth was your dad’s other friend, one that has been blatantly lusting after you every time you’ve come to visit. Your dad never seemed to notice, but it seemed like Joel had.

“Or…” You teased, lips pulling into a cat-like smile. “I can just let him look at me, if he wants to. He’s a decent looking guy, could probably use a little fun since he’s been divorced for what, two years now? Three?” In all honesty, if Kieth hadn’t been standing next to Joel every time he came around, you’d probably think he was the hottest guy on the block.

Joel’s grip around the steering wheel tightened. “You like him?”

“I dunno. I’m young, I don’t know what I want. I have plenty of time to fuck up.”

“My advice to you? Don’t fuck up with Keith. Guy’s a fuckin’ mess. And your dad would probably kill him.”

Your head slams back against the headrest and you let out a roaring laugh. “My dad wouldn’t even notice.”

“He would.”

“Well, then who should I fuck up with then?”

“That’s for you to decide, darlin’.” Joel’s voice was low, his sweet Texan tang like music to your ears.

“But not really because you said I can’t have Keith, so who does that leave me with? You?” You bit your lip and smiled while Joel continued to look straight ahead at the open road. “I guess it’s only fair. It’s only been three years since Kieth’s divorce, but it’s been nearly a decade for you.”

It was quiet for a minute, and you worried that you pushed to far. Flirted to hard. You waited for him to scold you, say something and make you feel ashamed for your advances and commenting on his failed marriage.

“You’re gonna piss off your old man, sleepin’ with all his friends,” Joel finally said, and it was that comment that gave you the opening to press forward. Joel put the car in park when you pulled up to the country market, the lot nearly empty. Not quite as a packed as you thought it’d be.

“Not all of them.” Your gaze bore down at his lap and then slowly, slowly let your eyes roam up his chest until you met his, lookin up at his through thick lashes, biting your lip. “Just one.”

He shifted in his seat, cracking open the chevy door. “Let’s get your cream.”

You wore Joel’s sweatshirt, just like he told you to. It smelled like him, a musky, woody scent that made your pulse quicken with each inhale. He trailed behind you as you all but skipped down the aisles, heading straight for the cream. You grabbed another set of bananas too, just in case you needed to top off the pie. Joel was eerily silent the entire time, and you hoped it was because he was horny, not becuase he was mad. Or maybe it was a little bit of both. You smiled devilishly at the thought.

When you dropped the bananas and cream on the belt, you pulled out a few bucks to pay for it all, but Joel’s wallet was already out, handing the cashier a few bills. “Hey, I was gonna pay for it.”

The cashier, a kind old woman, bless her soul, just smiled at the two of you. “Let daddy pay.” Your face dropped and Joel stiffened, grabbing the receipt and storming out. You tail after him, but his footsteps eat the ground, and you’re practically running to keep up.

“Woah, woah, woah! Slowdown their cowboy, I’m not used to running this much.”

He flung the door open, jumped in the truck and took a long, deep breath. He was silent again. Joel was always a man of few words, and you always wondered what he was thinking. There were times over summer break–when you’d come back to visit, wearing nothing but a string bikini while you splashed around in his pool–you wondered if he thought of you.

“Is everything okay?” You tore his sweatshirt off, feeling the heat build up on your skin now that something was amiss with Joel.

Joel groaned quietly, letting his elbow rest on the side door and burying his eyes in his left palm.

“You’re so young. We shouldn’t be… shouldn’t be talkin’ like this. It ain’t right.”

“I thought we were just havin’ fun.” You said, eyebrows stitching inward at the fear of rejection.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fun.”

“Then what’s the problem?” An innocent question, and then your eyes trailed back down to his pants and it was then that you realized you didn’t need an answer.

“Seeing you, prancing around in your little fuckin’ skirt and your shirt that barely covers your tits… fuck. I–that’s part of why I gave you my sweatshirt. So I didn’t have to look at you and torture myself anymore.” He starts, slowly turning his gaze to look at you. “But it didn’t make a difference. You… are so fuckin’ gorgeous I can’t hide my desire. Can’t go back to your dad’s like this.” He buried his face in his palm again, wishing away his erection.

Wetness pooled between your thighs at his confession. You felt your mouth water as you eyed the length of him through his jean, a pulsing throbbing mass that you’d give anything to have a taste of.

“Then let’s not go back like that.”

He turned back to you, slowly. You exchanged a look of mutual agreement, and as he opened his mouth to respond, you slid a leg over him and perched yourself on his lap, straddling him. Feeling the heat of him through the fabric of your panties. He rolled the sit back slowly, and then ground his hips against yours, his mouth hot on your neck, sucking and licking at your sensitive skin. The hair of his beard scraped against your chest and shoulder, but you didn’t care.

“Baby…” he whispered into your ear, hands groping your mounds, thumbing the sensitive peaks. And then his mouth was back to sucking your neck, pulling soft moans from your lips as he did so. He slid his hand up your shirt, his calloused palm flush against your bare skin. His body heat warmed you in the cold november air.

Your moans became louder and more frequent with every fondling stroke of his hands on your breasts, your hips, and your ass. The wetness of his tongue against your neck. You cried out his name, begging, pleading him for more as your ground your hips on his lap. He groaned in approval.

“This what you want?” He asked, teasinglly pulling your pants to the side and letting his finger feel the wetness there before pulling away.

“Yes, yes, please, please, please.”

And then he let his fingers slide along your clit before rubbing in a smooth, circular motion. “Fuck, you’re wet…”

You moaned and begged him to continue, and your sweet cries left him thirsty for your lips. His mouth locked onto yours, tongue exploring you without any reservation. He kissed you roughly, like you belonged to him, and when you moaned at his touch between your legs, the rumbling growl that came from somewhere deep within his chest poured into your mouth. You cried out, spreading your legs as far as you could in the driver’s seat and let yourself fall into the white hot release, body convulsing as he rubbed you through your high.

As you came too, you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling. His cock was out not even a second later, the massive, swollen head slick with precum. He was huge, both in girth and length, and you almost shied away. Worried he wouldn’t fit. But he didn’t give you time to turn back as he lifted your hips from his lap, lined up at your entrance, and then forced you down on him in one long stroke.

“Good girl,” he said into your ear.

You screamed, biting his shoulder to hold back any other screams that might tear from your lungs and give you both away. Your hips moved on their own accord, bouncing on his cock, bigger than any dildo you’d ever used.

“Joel… fuck me! Please, please!”

His hips bucked up, slammed into you, somehow deeper with every thrust. He growled, eyes trained on your bouncing breasts that are now exposed, the corset snug underneath them, propping them up for his pleasure. His hands found a spot on your hips, gripping you hard enough to bruise.

He slammed into you, filling you to the brim in violent thrusts. You continued to bounce, your movements matching his but his stamina outmatched yours and you let him use your body for his pleasure. He fucked you, the truck bouncing in rhythm to his thrusts, the sound of Pink Floyd’s Shine On You Crazy Diamond playing quietly on the radio. You thanked God for the cold air fogging the windows of the truck, otherwise you’d be on display for the world.

“Come inside me, please daddy.” You begged, and then wrapped our arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

And that’s what undid him. You. Both of you. Joel bucked his hips into you in sloppy, violent thrusts. You screamed, reaching the blissful release again, screaming daddy, daddy, daddy as he took you there, pouring his white hot cream into you in an endless load. You begged him for more and he buried himself into you.

And then your body went limp against his. Once bouncy, boisterous curls now sticking to the sweat on both of your faces.

“Fuck…” Joel groaned, pulling his cock out of you. Both of you pulled yourselves back together. You combed your fingers through your hair and Joel handed you a wipe to clean yourself up. “‘M too old to be this impulsive. Look what you did to me.”

You smirked, wiping the white milk from between your legs. “And I’d do it again.”

When Joel pulled up to the driveway, you noticed more cars parked out front. “Looks like everyone else showed up.”

Keith was in the living room as you and Joel entered the house, a frown plastered on his face when he looked at you, your neck, and then cast a glance at Joel. You looked in the mirror by the door and found a hickey the size of a golfball tattooed on your neck, covering it with your curls as soon as your realized the evidence.

“Hey, look who finally came back!” Your dad strolled over, a smile on his face that you knew would be wiped away the second he found out what you did with his best friend just moments ago. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Yeah, we got the cream.”

More cream than you needed, actually.

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel x you #the last of us #fanfic #dbf!joel

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nomynameisnothing · 19 hours ago

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Reminds me of something I was thinking about earlier today, pretty perfectly actually.

I went to an all girls Christian camp every summer for 2 weeks to ride horses and go backpacking when I was in my teen years.

I was a streadfast ultracynical atheist then. I felt I had a duty to disprove everything about religion. I thought believing in god meant you were stupid.

I always did my best to poke holes in all the bible stories and find a way to prove that they didnt make any sense.

My cabin leader was the sweetest person I've ever met, so friendly and wholesomely christian.

I said to her, "How can you believe in something when there are so many holes... so many things that dont add up?"

She said that she imagined her faith like a cabin. Like a home, somewhere she felt protected with a roof over her head to ride out the bad weather. She said, "Yes, there are cracks and holes in the walls but thats where the light shines through. Thats faith."

The knowing that comes from deeply understanding your place in the universe and in this life; from understanding the laws that govern the soul and trusting in your connection with spirit to guide and protect you every step of the way.

I understand that now

Not because its comforting or convenient, but because I see the evidence. I get it now.

Its faith in laws in the universe in uncharted dimensions of phsyics that have yet to be defined.

I believe this is now the time when we can make that leap and bridge the gap between quantum physics and spirituality. They are not so different. One is just unproven because it is the study of phenomena that can't be empirically tested. The laws of nature still prevail.

As above, so below.

What does Acts 19:19 mean?

The people of Ephesus are learning what real supernatural power looks like. Like all pagans in the Roman Empire, they have household idols and city gods; they are known for the temple of Artemis. They also have a culture of witchcraft, which attracts demons, which attract Jewish exorcists.

This is the state of the city when Paul arrives. In response to all the magic, the Holy Spirit empowers him to heal and expel demons in Jesus' name. Jewish magicians hear him and start using "Jesus" as a kind of magical word. When seven sons of a Jewish high priest named Sceva enter a house and try to use Jesus' name to expel a powerful demon, the evil spirit attacks them, and the would-be exorcists run out in the street (Acts 19:11–16).

The whole city hears, and many of the practitioners of witchcraft immediately respond. Likely, they realize their spells and incantations don't really control demons, but Paul does. First, they reveal their practices, thus voiding them of power (Acts 19:17–18). Now, they burn their spells. "Ephesian writing," or Ephesia grammata, is a reference to written-down spells, some rolled into small containers and worn as amulets. If the pieces of silver are silver drachma, the value would be something close to 150 years' worth of a laborer's wages.

It's not uncommon for an unbeliever to see the power of Jesus and want to use it to gain influence and money. Simon the Magician did so in Samaria (Acts 8:9–24). But sometimes people are just waiting for rescue. When criticized for eating with unsavory people, Jesus said He came for the sick who need a doctor (Mark 2:15–17). When Zacchaeus heard Jesus, he gratefully accepted Jesus' message and His love and resolved to return what he had cheated (Luke 19:1–10). As Paul works, the demons flee left and right (Acts 19:12). Maybe the magicians just need someone to rescue them.

by Remedios Varo

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kiemiu · 1 day ago

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more boyfriend chris headcanons | ( fem!reader ) fluff + soft hours. established relationship headcanons wc 911 (library) + (request)

boyfriend!chris whose first instinct is to protect you. whenever there's a loud sound nearby, he's quick to pull you into him and cradle your head. if there's someone being creepy nearby and he notices that you're uncomfortable around them, he'll pull you behind him, gently rubbing his thumb against your wrist to soothe your worries, and remind you that he's there and that you have nothing to worry about.

boyfriend!chris who gets cuteness aggression around you. he just can't help it. all you have to do is simply exist around him and he's suddenly squealing like a kid in a candy store. he'll latch onto you like a leach and start swinging you around while nuzzling his head into your neck and 'unintentionally' cooing at you in a baby voice.

boyfriend!chris who is the best gossip buddy. anytime you give him a certain look, he knows he's in for a good tea session. the both of you will sit and gossip about other couples, and people you met in passing for hours. he always has the inside scoop on something, and whenever his ears happen to catch onto some extra juicy drama, you're the first person he'll run to yap about it with. he's actually the biggest gossip, and truthfully most of his friends aren't safe, because as soon as they say "can i tell you a secret? you can't tell anyone else though." he immediately excuses you and his brothers from that statement, cause his ears are yours.

boyfriend!chris who adores your laugh. he's suddenly the biggest comedian whenever he's around you. always cracking jokes, and throwing in one-liners into every conversation the two of you have just so he can hear you laugh. he adores it so much, and some of his favorite moments consist of just the two of you together in the quiet confines of his room, crying laughing at stupid memes.

boyfriend!chris who won't leave your side when you're sick. as soon as he gets word that you're feeling unwell, he's doing everything in his power to help you get back to health. he'll look up every method on the internet to help you, almost to the point it becomes overwhelming. after he sets you up with blankets, medicine, and you're well fed, he'll sit by the side of your bed and will refuse to leave you alone.

boyfriend!chris who loves to play online games with you. he'll buy a nintendo switch just to play your favorite games with you like animal crossing, and mario kart. other times, he'll beg matt to let you use his pc which he does most of the time, but for everyone's convenience, chris ended up buying you a new pc so he could play games with you whenever. he'll play all types of video games with you, going from scary, to adventure, to mystery. he'll play it all, your discord calls probably go up to being 8 hours long with the amount of games you play in one sitting. he'll also def try to get you into fortnite, and will most-likely carry you throughout most matches, he still wouldn't choose anyone else to duo with.

boyfriend!chris who remembers the little things. any allergy you have, your favorite desserts, your biggest fears, all of it is stored in the back of his mind. he could name any fact about you in an instant, he can tell you things that you don't even remember telling him. it's honestly a bit surprising but it always makes you feel seen as his partner. he pays attention to everything you do and say, even the smallest of habits.

boyfriend!chris who makes an effort of making time for you. he always sets aside time for you. he's a busy guy with a full schedule, so whenever he has some free time to spare, he'll plan something for the both of you to do together. he turns his phone off when he's out with you just incase someone tries to cut in on that time. if someone tries to sway his decision of doing something else instead of being with you, he'll shoot it down immediately. always saying something along the lines of "i gotta get back home to my baby."

boyfriend!chris who calls you his wife. before you even started dating he called you his girlfriend, but now that you're actually a couple, he calls you his wife. he always uses you as an excuse, saying things like "ahh, the wife's not gonna like this one." and "my wife said i should be back home by 9 'cause she's cooking dinner tonight." when in reality you never said those things, he just wants to get back home to you. on other occasions he just likes to do it because he fully believes in having that future with you. "happy wife, happy life."

boyfriend!chris who loves you for not judging him. chris always feels like people look at him a little differently from his brothers. he falls under people's scrutiny all the time for being weird, loud, annoying, and as much as he likes to pretend that those comments don't hurt him, they really do. so, you've become a personal safe-haven for him. whenever he starts to feel beaten down by the ruthlessness of people's opinions he always goes to you for comfort. he doesn't feel lonely or isolated anymore knowing that you see him for him.

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🥡: @emely9274 @ginswife @chrisstvrns @conspiracy-ash @sturnina @lovetaylorrussellgrr @nervoussagittarius @sacaydia @chrissturnsss @hearts4werka @chrisprincesss @koilaniazul @starsforu @sturn777 @sturniolosiphone @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnsmia @leaningoutthewindow

#sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo imagines #christopher sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo headcanons #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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writingsbytee · 1 day ago

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HIDDEN

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: NSFW; minors do not interact; mentions of domestic violence; self hate; angst; Terry is hard to read in the beginning.

SUMMARY: You’re running away from an abusive ex when you meet Terry working in one of his clubs.

TROPES: grumpy x sunshine ; “touch her and die”; slow burn;

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I took this idea and kind of ran with it. Let me know if you guys like it! I want this to be a series but only if you guys like it. I’m going to try switching POV’s; let me know if you guys like it or if it’s hard to follow.

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper out. That fucking asshole shredded my passport. My expired ID will have to do for now. I’m running around the house trying to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn’t wake the sleeping monster who’s my soon to be ex. My phone vibrates in my back pocket,

LEXI: Parked a block down, lights off.

ME: Give me 3 minutes.

I liked the message and continued to pack, I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I’d been with Rafa (ex boyfriend) for about a year before the motherfucker put his hands on me. I believed him when he said it was an accident. I looked at his tear stained face and heard the crack in his voice and thought ‘he loves me he won’t hurt me again’. Here I am two weeks later with a black eye, split lip, and I’m pretty sure some broken ribs

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I peek behind me making sure Rafa is still asleep. When I saw that he was, I let out a breath I was holding. I may or may not have slipped some crushed sleeping pills into Rafa’s evening whiskey, ensuring I wouldn’t be interrupted fleeing from his ass. Reaching under the bed, I grab my suitcase that’s pre-packed with everything I need (besides my passport) and head towards the door.

Before my hand reaches the door handle, I look behind me at Rafa. His features relaxed in this state he doesn’t look nearly as menacing as he did two hours ago when he was beating the brakes off me. Freedom was right in front of me yet, here I was close to tears dying to crawl back in bed with him. I shook my head and took a deep breath. Turning away from Rafa, my trembling hand reached forward to grab the door.

“Just do it Daphne,” I whisper to myself. With another breath I pulled the door open to what used to be our bedroom and walked out. I’m doing this for me, saving my life. As dramatic as it sounds I have to get out of this relationship before it kills me.

“Girl, it’s about time you got in this car! I thought I was going to have to come in that bitch swinging,” my half-sister Lexi said. I threw my bags in the backseat before getting in the passenger side and buckling up. (Lexi's cast pic)

“I got stage fright all of sudden. I didn’t think I’d be able to go through with it, actually leaving him. I uprooted my whole life to be with him and here I am back where I started.” I said on the verge of tears.

Lexi took a deep breath before turning to me, “ Look Daph, I know what it’s like to be so in love with the potential of a man you’re blinded by who he really is. Rafa didn’t give a fuck about you, he proved that when he put his hands on you. Look in the mirror Daph! I love you sis, and I’m going to support you no matter what, but believe me when I say this. You took your life back today.” My eyes blur with tears as I reach across the center console to pull my sister into a hug.

“Oh stop it before I start crying,” Lexi lets out a watery laugh before letting me go. We release our embrace and Lexi starts her SUV up, and we drive away. I don’t glance back, ready to leave this life behind me.

2 Hours Later…

“Welcome to your new home!” Lexi sings as we pull up to her apartment complex. I chuckle as we grab my things and head up to her place.

“The second bedroom has a bathroom right across the hall. I cleaned both of them out so you can make room for all your things. I got you a key fob from the front desk and I already added your name on the lease, but don’t worry about the rent,” Lexi says as she shows me around her spacious luxury apartment.

I spin, crushing my sister in a bear hug, “I can’t thank you enough for this Lex, I’ll start looking for a job first thing tomorrow. I have enough money saved up to get me through the next few months, so I can help with rent if you need me to.”

Lexi playfully rolls her eyes, “Daphne I love you but please shut up. You’d do this for me in a heartbeat. You’ve always taken care of me, now let me return the favor. Plus I already found you a job.” Lexi and I found each out about each other in middle school and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

I let out a deep sigh before nodding, “I love you too Lex. Now where’s this so-called job?” I ask, raising a brow.

Lexi makes her way towards my room, motioning for me to follow her, “You’ll work at the club with me. One of the servers got fired and we’re really short. I put in a good word with my boss Terry, he just wants to meet you first.”

Lexi works at a high end gentlemen's club named ‘Fuse’. When she told me about it I was a bit apprehensive but, beggars can’t be choosers. I figured I can work there, save up for my own place and then go from there.

“Lexi, how am I supposed to meet your boss looking like this? I’ll scare his ass off,” I say motioning to my face.

“Don’t you think I thought about that? He’s coming here, think of it as an impromptu interview. He’s discreet and won’t ask questions. Sis if you don’t want to do this…,” Lexi trails off.

I shake my head, “No, No, it’s fine I’m sorry. What time should I be ready?”

Lexi squeals before jumping into my arms, “I know you’re nervous but Terry’s assured me that we’re working the exact same schedule until you get your footing. If you decide at any time that the club isn’t for you, you can leave.”

I hug my sister back, enduring the sharp pain that comes from my rib cage. the weight of today is finally taking its toll on me, “I think I’m going to freshen up and lay down,” I say, detaching myself from our embrace. Lexi nods before showing me where the towels and things are, and then she leaves me to it. Taking a deep breath I cut the bathroom light on and looked in the mirror.

I gasp out a sob as I take in my features. My bright brown eyes look dull and lifeless, well the one that opens anyway. My lip looks worse than what it is. There’s a slight bruise on my right cheek. The worst is yet to come when I lift my shirt taking a look at my torso.

“Oh my god,” I sob. I’m a nurse by trade so bruises, cuts, and blood don’t really affect me. But, seeing them on me is doing something crazy to my mind. I deal with cases like this all the time, vowing I’ll never be that woman. And here I am, that woman. I get in the shower on auto pilot. Not enjoying the art of getting clean like I usually do but just trying to get everything done. Once clean I moisturize and make my way into my new room. I don’t know how long I lay there and wait for sleep to take me.

My alarm startles me awake, I groan and roll over reaching for my phone. Pressing the silence button, I begin to rub my eyes. I groan and roll into a sitting position, my face feeling even more sore than it did yesterday. Making my way to the bathroom, I flip the lights and turn the shower on. My mind reels as it tries to process the last 24 hours.

Rafa hasn’t tried to contact me, not that he could. I blocked him on everything but, still the silence is alarming. I never told him where Lexi lives, so there’s no way he could know that I’m here. Pushing all thoughts of Rafa out of my mind for now, I start getting ready for my day. After doing my extensive body and skincare routine I threw on a hoodie and leggings. I decided not to cover up my bruises for the moment. Now that it’s the next day everything just looks ugly and swollen anyway.

After finishing my morning routine I head out to the living room to find Lexi. I can hear her talking quietly to someone, I assume she’s just on the phone. When I round the corner at the end of the hallway I stop in my tracks. There’s a literal adonis manspreading on our sofa. Well over six feet this man is sitting on our sofa looking almost too big for it. God he was fine, I’m in no space to get involved right now but I can appreciate a fine ass man. Hearing my entrance, his eyes shot towards me stopping in my tracks.

“Oh! Daphne you’re awake! Perfect,” Lexi said from somewhere in the kitchen. Seconds go by and I see her appear with a tray with three cups of coffee on it.

“This is Terry, remember I told you about him yesterday?” Lexi says with a nervous smile on her face. I nod looking back and forth between the two. My gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on Terry. He’s looking up at me with a curious frown on his face like he’s trying to figure me out, and I’m doing the same thing.

I push my shoulders back and walk towards him outstretching my hand, “Hi Terry, I’m Daphne sorry, if I’d known you were here I would have made myself look a little more presentable.”

Terry’s shaking his head before I can finish my sentence, “It’s all good, I was in the area and figured I’d just pop by and meet my new bartender.

My eyes widen, “Just like that? I’ve got the job? What’s the catch?”

Terry chuckles before crossing one leg over the other, “Lexi’s right, nothing gets past you. She told me you used to be a flight nurse, so I was hoping you could help me out from time to time.”

My brow furrows, “I’m not going to have to do anything illegal am I?”

Terry takes a deep breath leaning back, his gorgeous eyes assessing me, “We’ll keep that need to know. I won’t knowingly compromise your position or have you do anything that will put your license in jeopardy.”

I go over the details in my head. Could I really do something like this? It was clear to me that Terry was some sort of crime boss. He’s sitting so comfortably in our home like he owns the place (I wouldn’t be surprised if he did). He’s got money but doesn’t want to show it, based on the Rolex and Prada shoes he’s sporting.

“What if I say no?” I say, crossing my arms.

Terry chuckles and leans forward, “Then I guess you’ll need to go job hunting sweetheart.”

I roll my eyes and look over to Lexi, she mouths ‘say yes’. I contemplate in my mind, I’ve always played it safe until now. I went to nursing school because my mom wanted me to have a “stable income”. I went out with Rafa because he was a “safe” choice yeah, that worked out real nice. I’ve always gone with the safest option, not wanting to disappoint anyone. With recent events plaguing my brain I nod my head.

“Sure, what the hell. I’ll do what I can within reason,” I say to Terry.

Terry nods before standing, “Great, I’ll see you both next week, and Daphne all my bartenders wear black. Cover up the bruises but keep the makeup to a minimum.” I nod mindlessly at the things he said. Standing at his full stature, Terry is muscular, a few tattoos here and there and a face to die for. I was getting starstruck by my damn boss, which cannot happen. He exudes power, commanding each room he walks into, his height and size have nothing to do with it. It’s his aura he just gives off the vibe that he doesn’t take any shit.

Terry nods to both of us, “Ladies,” he said, and then he was out the door.

I sigh deeply and lean against the doorway, “Jeez Lexi you didn’t tell me your boss was finer than baby hair.”

Lexi laughs heartily, “Girl, it wouldn’t have mattered. Terry’s like a forcefield, he lets no one in.” I chuckle lightly and roll my eyes, making my way towards the sofa. I plop down and grab the coffee Lexi made.

“So tell me about the club. What should I expect?” I ask while sipping my coffee.

Lexi settles in next to me, cutting on the TV, “It’s a high end strip club / gentlemen's lounge, so we have lots of politicians, upper level business men, basically anyone who can afford the fifteen hundred dollar membership fee. You and I will work the bar, as long as you show a little cleavage and laugh at their shitty jokes they’ll tip you well and leave you alone for the most part. You don’t have to worry about guys getting handsy, Terry used to be a Marine, so a few of his buddies from back in the day are working security.”

I nod following along, “Does Terry usually show up a lot?” I ask.

“Well, it is his club. So yeah he’s there most of the time in his office. He usually only comes out if there’s a problem,” Lexi said.

“Hmm,” I reply with a nod. This was definitely going to be an interesting experience.

A WEEK LATER

“Daph! Come on! We’re going to be late!” Lexi yells upstairs. I sighed looking over at myself in the mirror, a simple black activewear jacket and leggings (link). My eye is almost healed, nothing a little concealer can't fix. I’m still favoring my right side because my ribs are still pretty sore. I spray myself with my sparkling lychee perfume, grab my tote and head downstairs to meet my bratty ass sister.

“Keep your panties on Lex I’m coming!” I shout as I look for my asics. Once I finally find them I meet Lexi at the door plastering on a fake smile.

“I’m sorry. Are you ready to go now?”,I ask with fake enthusiasm. Lexi just rolls her eyes and opens the door to lead us out. We head to her SUV and make our way to Terry’s club.

“Okay, so what should I expect?” I ask Lexi.

“Well it’s a Thursday night so it won’t be too busy but it’s a good thing you wore those shoes. We’ll be paired together so I’ll make drinks and you’ll take them out. Table one starts to the right of the door, and then they’re numbered clockwise,” Lexi said, adjusting the heat settings in the car.

“I mean it sounds easy enough. I just haven’t worked in a club since nursing school. I might be a little rusty,” I say, getting self conscious. Lexi reassures me as we begin heading towards downtown.

TERRY

This can’t be the sister Lexi was talking about, this is going to be a problem. She’s beautiful, fucking astonishing. I can’t even see the bruises, probably makeup which she doesn’t need. She exudes a softness that has no business being involved with me and my business. I sweep my eyes over her before landing on hers. Lexi told me her piece of dickhead boyfriend beat the shit out of her. She doesn’t look bad, but her limp tells me otherwise. A part of me wants to find the sorry motherfucker and break his knees, but I’m acting too irrational over a woman I just met.

I’ve been watching Lexi show her the ropes from my loft office. She seems to know what she’s doing catching on pretty quickly. I adjust myself for the second time as she bends down to pick up something.

“Ass fat as fuck,” I mumble watching it sway in her leggings. She drops off a tray of drinks at the police commissioner’s table and I watch as every set of eyes drop to her ass as she turns and walks away. She might be a problem

THE END

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Ok I didn’t want to get too deep in this in case y’all don’t like it. So please please like and comment if you want more. I’m so grateful for you guys I hope you all have a happy holiday season! Stay safe bookies <3

Until next time,

TEE <3

TAGLIST

@blackgurlnhermoods @dxddykenn @dxddykenn @kianaleani @pinkkycherrish @pinkkycherrishh @greatpandagladiator @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @megamindsecretlair @theereina @earthchica @megamindsecretlair @mogul93 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kimuzostar @pocketsizedpanther @kumkaniudaku @mymindisneverhere

DIVIDER: @cxrrodedcoffin

#rebel ridge fanfiction #terry richmond #terry richmond fanfiction #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond x black reader

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i2rizz · 2 days ago

Text

Stuck in a storm Pt.1

Summary: You get stuck in a storm with the Blue Lock boys.. how will they react?

Featuring: Isagi,Rin,Bachira,Kunigami,Chigiri

------------‐---------------------------------------

Yoichi Isagi

•At first, he tries to act calm and logical. He scans the surroundings, pointing out where to find the best shelter. "Over there—it looks like there’s a covered bus stop. Let’s head there before it gets worse."

•He’s the type to immediately offer his jacket even if it means standing in the rain himself. When you insist you don’t need it, he shakes his head. "No, seriously, I’m fine. Just take it. You’ll get sick if you don’t."

•Checks his phone obsessively for weather updates or to see if the storm will pass soon, only to groan when the signal cuts out. "Figures. Of course, the one time I actually need my phone…"

•He’s not used to moments like this and fidgets awkwardly while trying to keep you comfortable.

•When thunder cracks loudly and you flinch, his protective instincts kick in. Without thinking, he grabs your hand, his voice soft and reassuring. "It’s okay, I’m here."

•Later, when he realizes what he’s done, his face heats up, and he stammers out an apology. "Uh, sorry. That wasn’t weird, was it? I just… wanted to make sure you were okay."

•Deep down, though, he’s secretly happy he got to hold your hand, even if it was for a brief moment.

Rin Itoshi

•The moment it starts pouring, Rin groans in frustration. He pulls his hood up but glares at the storm like it personally offended him. "Just my luck," he mutters, his tone icy.

•He doesn’t say much at first, just scanning the area for shelter. When he spots a small abandoned shed nearby, he gestures for you to follow him. "Over there. Let’s go."

•The atmosphere is awkward at first because Rin doesn’t exactly know how to be comforting. Instead, he silently shrugs off his jacket and places it around your shoulders, avoiding eye contact. "Don’t argue. Just take it."

•Stands stiffly by the entrance, crossing his arms and muttering about how inconvenient the storm is. "I could be doing something productive right now."

•You try to lighten the mood by pointing out how pretty the lightning looks, and he gives you a sidelong glance. "It’s just light," he says flatly, but the faintest smirk tugs at his lips when he catches you staring at it in awe.

•When thunder rumbles and you instinctively grab his arm, he freezes but doesn’t pull away. His voice softens slightly. "You don’t have to act scared. It’s just noise."

Meguru Bachira

•When the rain starts, Bachira laughs like it’s the most exciting thing to ever happen. "This is awesome! Free shower, anyone?"

•He doesn’t even bother running at first, instead splashing through puddles like a kid. He turns back to you with a playful grin. "What? You’re gonna stand there and miss all the fun?"

•Eventually, he notices you shivering and drags you under a tree for some shelter, shaking out his hair like a wet dog and accidentally spraying water all over you. "Oops! My bad."

•To keep you distracted from the cold, he starts playing silly games like “Would You Rather” or “I Spy,” but his answers are always bizarre. "Would you rather fight a hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck?"

•When thunder strikes and you jump, he doesn’t miss a beat. "Woah! Scary stuff, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!" He says it dramatically but ends up clinging to you instead.

•By the end of it, he’s convinced this whole situation is a “romantic adventure” and teases you about it. "See? Told you we’d make the most of this. Now we’ve got a stormy love story to tell everyone."

Rensuke Kunigami

•The responsible one, Kunigami immediately takes charge when the storm starts. "We need to find shelter before this gets worse. Come on, let’s move quickly."

•He keeps a protective arm around your back, guiding you toward the nearest safe spot he can find, which turns out to be an old pavilion.

•Once there, he insists on giving you his jacket, brushing off your protests. "I’ll be fine. You’re the one I’m worried about."

•Always prepared, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you to dry your face. "It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing."

•To keep the mood light, he starts joking about how this feels like the beginning of a survival movie. "Think we’ll have to start rationing snacks soon?"

•When thunder rolls, and you cling to his arm, he chuckles softly but doesn’t say a word, just pulling you closer. His steady presence alone is enough to make you feel safe.

•After the rain lightens up, he looks at you with a gentle smile. "You okay now? Let’s get you somewhere warm."

Hyoma Chigiri

•When the rain starts, Chigiri lets out a dramatic sigh, already annoyed. "Great. Just what I needed today."

•He’s not a fan of running in the rain but picks up the pace slightly to make sure you’re not completely drenched.

•Finds a small overhang and guides you there, pulling you close so you can both share the limited space.

•Starts fussing over his hair, muttering about how it’s going to take forever to fix. "You don’t know how much effort it takes to keep it looking this good."

•Offers you his jacket with a teasing smirk. "But only because you’ll owe me after this. I don’t just hand out my stuff for free, you know."

•When thunder roars and you instinctively grab his arm, he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he smirks and leans closer. "Scared? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. You’re welcome."

•By the end of it, he’s back to teasing you, calling this the “most dramatic storm adventure ever.” But there’s a warmth in his eyes that shows he secretly enjoyed looking out for you.

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frogchiro · 1 day ago

Note

OMG TEASER READER WITH FRAT! LEON? 👀👁👁👁 Just let this man cum on something other than his hand or pants

Mmm idk about that, did he deserve it? ://

Imagine being saddled with tutoring Leon though! You jaw almost him the desk when your professor, the one from the course you shared with Leon called you two after class to him and announced that due to Leon being...very behind on his coursework and his grades being so low that he is at risk at filing, he is now assigned to you as your pupil! Isn't that great that you can help a fellow student? <3

No. It's really not when that student is Leon S. Kennedy, the notorious fratboy with a room temperature IQ who apparently has a huge crush on you and sends you dick pics and cumshot videos, begging for your pussy and to 'knock up every single of your eggs'. Great.

On the other hand imagine how happy Leon is!! He is over the moon in fact! This will be literally the only topic he will drone on about for the rest of the week leading up to you first tutoring session, in your dorm!! He feels like he hit the jack-pot with this one and he can't fuck it up! Sure, he may not be the smartest, but he has a lot of enthusiasm and wants to show off to you, so on the day of your first lesson he wears his best (aka not stained or old) black compression shirt to accentuate his muscles and for once he cracks out the good cologne and not his usual AXE body spray </3

Imagine he arrives at your door, giddy and bushy tailed and so so horny, all the possible scenarios he saw in porn running through his head, the idea of actually learning completely pushed out. 'Maybe you will wear some sort of schoolgirl uniform? Ohh maybe a sexy teacher~? A ruler in your hand, threatening to spank him if he will be a bad boy that will ultimately fail when he pins you down and fucks you well, ahh so many possibilities~'

Ofc it all comes crashing down when you open the door and there is no sexy costume, no tits on show, no nothin', just you usual sneer when you look at him and a quick and impatient 'Get in' before you slam the door behind him, your displeasure very clear.

Poor Leon who is like a kicked puppy with his ears down and tail between his legs because :(( Why is it so hard :(( And why are you so tough on him :(( It's like nothing wants to actually get through into his head, the material is too hard, he's getting distracted by the sight of your tits in your cute pink top...Until after a few sessions of agony and frustration you finally figure Leon out- he lacks an incentive.

He's a rich boy, comes from a good family, never lacked for anything and was smart enough to get through school until he got a rude awakening in college, but then he got much rowdier, joined a frat and it all went to shit, but the main thing was that he didn't have any real reason to learn well so you came up with the good ol' stick and carrot; if he shows initiative, actually sits his ass down and will do some work himself and score at least a B on his upcoming test you will give him a 'nice surprise' and lo and behold Leon almost knocked down your door with how fast he ran to show off the big, fat 'B+' written in red on the front page of his test. Something you...didn't really expect. Like at all.

You expected more like a C at most, a far cry from his usual D or Fs but a B+? Even you had to admit that you were impressed, the smile on your face when you congratulated him made Leon think he will die and go to Heaven but at lest he will die a happy man...And you were saying something about a reward no? :)

And the nice surprise was leading him to your cute, comfy, girly bed, stripping your pretty pink top so that your tits are nice and on show and allowing him to jerk off to them <3 No touching though! He has to earn it with good grades <3

I honestly think Leon would short-circuit then and there because...What. You, the girl he had a crush on for the longest time now, was letting him ogle your pretty tits and jerk off?? Yeah, he died and went to Heaven alright.

Poor boy couldn't take his already leaky cock out of his sweats fast enough, the pretty head already flushed and spurting out precum but the real star of the show were Leon's moans...Even you had to admit that they were the prettiest thing you've ever heard and they made you flush :(( Despite any reservations you might have had, Leon was objectively a very handsome guy and seeing him so horny, so desperate and whiny just for you in real life was enough to make you wet...Not that you'd admit it to him, no no. His ego would shoot through the roof then and that's the last thing you'd want, so instead you just focus on how pretty Leon looks, sat in your bed, jerking his cock and desperately trying to prolong the moment; he just loves you so much and seeing as this is the first time where you two ever did something like this, he wanted to enjoy it as long as he could <//3

Imagine poor Leon being a bit too horny, his brain getting fuzzy with hormones, drunk on love and pleasure and neither you nor him realized that you two scooched closer together, now almost pressing against each other to the point that if he leaned down only a bit he could take your nipple into his mouth but no, he had to be nice...Or at least until a particularly good twist of his hand had his whimpering and moaning his head off, his sperm shooting and landing right on your soft belly and he swears he saw black spots in his eyes at the whine you let out :((

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #i went a bit overboard with this #but pathetic leon is in my head 24/7 #college au #resident evil 4 x reader #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy

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temis-de-leon · 15 hours ago

Text

When they don't know you as well as they thought they did

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

C/W: the boys are crushing on MC and it's implied MC is crushing as well, but there isn't any established relationship. Just friends feeling things for their friend, very common. Self-insert, perhaps?

A/N: this is just fluff, very silly, a little ooc maybe, but I'm not sure. I just wanted to make something fun and lighthearted after the recent news.

No one is surprised anymore at the firmness the brothers speak with when they call you part of the family. Between the pacts and the unsolicited free therapy, it’s only fair, and only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see the affection running through the House of Lamentation.

Still, there are instances every once in a while where, although it’s difficult at the beginning, the boys have no other choice but to accept the fact that you have a completely different life back in the human world and they may not know you as good as they would like.

It starts with the small things; embarrassing conversations where their ignorance gets you to laugh like a maniac more than a couple of times. There they are, blushing in self-consciousness while you cackle uncontrollably because they believed some urban legend about a faceless suited man with freakishly long arms.

Then, slowly, but surely, it turns into more personal things about you, like your irrational, downright, phobia of lizards or the fictional characters you’re surprisingly attracted to.

(Some of those aren’t human, which makes them all feel a strong sense of hope, but you don’t need to know that).

The brothers learn about your studies, favourite subjects and what you’d like to do with your future, even if it sounds hopeless or unlikely. They also keep every bit of information about your friends and family; little comments that you let go here and there and help them understand why you are someone they love so much.

The whole situation evolves in such a way that inviting them to your birthday party in the human realm seems to be the obvious next step.

‘It’s so I can celebrate it with all my loved ones’ you say, and they really can’t deny your offer after that.

So, after a few awkward introductions and half-truths about their origin, everyone is happily talking to each other and eagerly waiting for their turn to be with you.

Lucifer, who has had a special interest in your family for a while, finds himself chuckling in understanding when your mother complains about the occasional mess in your room. In your defence, he feels obligated to partially throw his brothers under the bus and blame them for keeping you in a constant state of disarray, but then she says something that… perplexes him.

You don’t like perfection? His eyes open wide at the revelation and your mother chuckles, misinterpreting his expression. She doesn’t know who he really is or what he represents, after all.

Just how vast is the veracity of that statement? Does it refer only to a state of mind or do you apply it to everything else?

Thankfully, he doesn’t have time to feel too anxious before he remembers the little details. When your triumphal smile shone in the dimness of his room that time he made a silly mistake in chess, ultimately granting you the win; or when the Anti-Lucifer League managed to leave his hair unkempt for an entire day, which got you to shamelessly look at him for longer than any of his younger brothers would’ve ever liked.

Not being perfect isn’t something he would ever do consciously and he had always found solace in the fact that you like him despite his mistakes. However, knowing you actually like him because of those mistakes? Perhaps letting those cracks show in his façade isn’t so bad as long as it is for you.

Not far from him, Mammon chats with your human best friend. There’s an air of competitiveness between them, both wanting to be the ultimate best friend, but it all stays light-hearted. There’s no real threat when Mammon gets to be your first demon, you know? It’s a unique position!

But he still makes sure to assert dominance by stating he would’ve made the perfect party for you, better than the one you’re currently enjoying; with food and decorations from the Devildom and the Celestial realm included, matching outfits and, of course, keeping everything hidden so you can have the best surprise of your life. He had thrown a lot of those with Asmo’s help back home, so he knows you love them!

Or he thinks you do, at least.

Your friend sniggers harmlessly when they hear that last part, pointing at him with an infuriating smartass attitude, and immediately shatters Mammon’s reality.

What the heck do they mean, you don’t like surprise parties? He’d done a lot of those back at the Devildom and you’d never complained, appreciative as you are, even helping him do the same for other’s birthday parties!

Sure, you had always looked dumbfounded by the loud cheering and the confetti after stepping through the door, but that was part of the fun… right? You would tell him if you wanted him to stop, wouldn’t you?

He feels a pang in his heart when the idea of you being uncomfortable for his sake appears in his mind, but it doesn’t make sense. While you undeniably treat him better than anyone else in all of the realms, you still correct him when you see fit and him making you unhappy on your own birthday would be one of those occasions.

He trusts you to confide in him when things are wrong just as much as you trust him to do his best. That’s what friends are for, after all.

And where else would Levi be if not hidden in a corner playing with his DDD?

He had tried mingling with people at the party, or at least tried hanging around them, he swears, but conversations became repetitive and boring and then he received a notification for a daily reward from one of his apps, so, of course, he had to sit down to collect it. Then minutes passed as he completed minigames to power up his cards and… you get the idea.

So when a friend of yours walked towards him, complimenting the pins and badges on his bag and the faint music coming out of his headphones, sure, the evening started going way smoother.

He talks enthusiastically, just like any other time his interests are mentioned, wildly gesturing with his hands and letting the little bubble around them be full of their eager exchange. However, a casual lament from his companion stops him right in his tracks.

It’s a shame you don’t like anime…? His first reaction is to laugh, enumerating everything you’d watched, and later commented on, with him under a blanket in the tranquillity of his room, but the utter surprise in your friend’s face leaves him speechless.

You really don’t like it? But… But he’s made you see so many things! Did you like any of them? Did you lie to his face when you said you enjoyed them? He would’ve never chosen a best friend like that; you were not like that and he refused to believe the contrary.

Also, would a liar buy merch on their own like you did? Would they watch the best episodes again or listen to the soundtrack on repeat when they had a bad day? This new revelation only makes him aware he was the one to change your perspective of the fine arts and he’s damn proud of that.

You are still getting an earful when you get back home, though.

Satan thinks the kid is a young cousin of yours, but he really hasn’t been paying attention to anything in a long while. How could he, when the enthusiastic toddler had taken their mother’s phone just to show him the family cat’s pictures and videos?

A Mackerel tabby cat, too chubby for his own good but not enough to be actually concerning; playing with feathers, blinking slowly, bumping his head against legs and shoulders, meowing sweetly and, basically, opening his heart in half and making it roam inside his chest like a butterfly.

What a good party.

He mentions all the stray cats behind his house, obviously leaving behind the name of the House of Lamentation and the Devildom, and all the times you’ve gone with him to feed them and play. Satan even shows pictures on his DDD and stops with an adoring expression when you appear on the screen, sitting on your toes with a kitty on your knees and smiling past the camera, straight at Satan.

However, what he hears next takes the air right out of his lungs. He sits down and clutches his pearls and the kid stares at him in anxious confusion, clearly witnessing but not understanding the severity of his distress.

Who, in their right mind, doesn’t like cats?

He remembers the first few times you had accompanied him to his route, intimidated and slightly lingering behind. Initially, he had assumed it was due to the novelty of your friendship or a possible fear of Devildom fauna, but nothing against cats!

Were you afraid of them or just plain uninterested? Why keep going with him if you weren’t as fond of them as he thought you were? Wouldn’t it be because of him, would it?

A warm feeling covers him like a blanket, makes him search for you with his eyes and then immediately blush when you excitedly wave at him, point at the kid and mouth ‘Cute cat!’

Yeah. Very cute.

On the other hand, Asmo hangs out with the people responsible for the decorations of the party and compliments them on their work. The colours are well-coordinated, there’s nothing out of place and the distribution was thought with all the guests in mind.

Although he hasn’t been able to help in that regard, he’s made sure you would be the centre of attention that evening; a complicated feature coming from him, but he had never minded sharing the main spot just as long as you were the one by his side; and everyone knows that.

You look cute and pretty and hot in your outfit, a style that both compliments and pleases you. You also worked together in your makeup for hours before getting to the party.

However, taking that much time might have been due to scrolling through social media and gossiping so much, but never mind that. Everyone agrees you look incredible and that is more than enough for him.

It isn’t until one of your friends mentions how weird it is to see you wearing makeup that he dares take his eyes away from you to stare at them in disbelief.

He would’ve never guessed that given that one of your favourite pastimes together is makeup as a whole: going shopping, watching tutorials, following trends, doing your own next to each other, doing each other’s… And, even if he wants to use it, his charming power is useless against you, so he knows you do your makeup because you want to and not because you feel forced by him.

Whether it’s something you share because you enjoy it or something you enjoy because you share it with him, he isn’t sure, but he can swear on his precious damned soul that makeup isn’t a need for you.

It’s just a bonus to your beauty.

Sitting at one of the tables, Beel is simultaneously talking to your older sibling while gulping down an entire plate of bite-sized snacks; thankfully, whatever apprehension anyone felt at his hunger died hours ago and now the conversation flowed more naturally, mainly centred around you.

As much as he loves having you near him and his brothers in the House of Lamentation and thinking of you as another member of the family, he is very interested in knowing how your human family is, especially your siblings. It’s another way of relating to you and making him feel closer.

Plus, he gets to know stories from your childhood you may never tell him on your own; anecdotes that will stay at the table he is currently sharing with your sibling.

Unfortunately, they reach a point where, although he wants to keep asking questions about you, doing so with a mouth full of food might end up with Lucifer’s scolding of the year. Also, he really wants to make a good impression.

So your sibling begins asking the questions. Surprisingly, they start with his tattoo; dark red curling around his muscles and almost going unnoticed under the colours of dusk. Beel smiles without giving it any importance because it really doesn’t have it, but forces himself to stop gulping down food when your sibling throws a fun fact about you.

You find tattoos attractive?

He feels an instant burning on his cheeks followed by the rapid beating of his heart and a knot in his stomach, but there’s also a faint unpleasant sour taste in his mouth.

You’ve never asked him about his tattoo, barely sparing a glance at it when you worked out together or he took off his jacket.

He wonders if you don’t like it or if you think it doesn’t look good on him because all he can remember is the focused look in your eyes while looking at his and the curve of your smile growing bigger as you listen to whatever he says, even when it is entirely about food, and…

You know what? He doesn’t really mind. He is fine with things as they are.

As both a friend of yours and a fellow younger brother, Belphie respects your sibling’s decision to spill your darkest secrets and thoroughly enjoys the air of comradery between them.

Don’t worry, he won’t let it go past actual serious matters; if you want him to know any of that, he’d rather have you telling him yourself when you’re ready and not get betrayed by your sibling. Silly and harmless pieces of information, however? Those are more than welcome.

And he already has a favourite.

You need to hug plushies to sleep? Tell him more. He doesn’t judge you for feeling the need to hug toys or pillows while sleeping. Actually, he understands.

Do you have a favourite? Is it in the human realm or is it in your room back at the House of Lamentation? While he can recall seeing that ugly zombie iguana on your bed, he’s never seen you cuddling it while sleeping and, other than that, he doesn’t remember seeing one, so he wonders if you hide it somewhere when you know he’s going to your room; but what about those times he enters uninvited?

Does that mean you left your preferred plushie in your room in the human realm? Does that mean that you don’t actually need to hug anything to sleep?

Whenever you share a bed, which is pretty frequent, Belphie can sense an invisible barrier between you that he’s dying to break. It’s nothing physical, given that only he knows how truly comfortable your lap and your chest are, but it’s obvious in the way your hands hesitate to bring him closer.

Shy and indecisive, while you don’t reject his advances, he’s still unsure what your feelings on the matter are. He’d initially thought you weren’t used to having anything so close to you while sleeping, but… now… Maybe he has to assure you that you can hug him as hard as you want.

Belphie is just as good as any plushie, after all; if not better.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

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anemptypuddingcup · 3 days ago

Text

contains pussy-eating and fingering.

“Make sure you get your assignments done by next week. Have a good weekend, alright?” Professor Sabo’s voice spilled out to the class so smoothly as he spoke, his hand adjusting his glasses as he finally dismissed the class for the weekend. The dismissal had caused all the students to get out of their seats so urgently, their minds more focused on what plans awaited for their weekends rather than Sabo’s reminder for assignments.

While all the students were quickly leaving the classroom, you were taking your time getting out of your seat and packing up your bag. Sabo noticed your steady pace but didn’t question it not once. He was used to seeing you move at your own pace which is honestly what he liked about you. While other students focused more on parties rather than their studies, you were one of the very few he’s come across that actually did their work and didn’t necessarily focus on the fun stuff first. You were very well-paced with your work, and he admired that.

Sabo was finally pulled from his thoughts and looked around in his classroom, though oddly enough it still wasn’t empty…because you were still there at your desk packing your things. Sabo quirked a brow and looked down at his watch, wondering what exactly was taking you so long to dismiss yourself from his classroom. Sabo wanted to be nice, he assumed that maybe you lost something or just wanted to stay around a bit longer for tutoring.

Why else could you be taking you be taking this much of your time?

“Are you staying back a bit for tutoring? You’ve been staying back a bit more often than my other students recently.” He asked you, his voice causing you to jolt before you turned around to him. You looked away from him nervously before finally zipping up your bag, your hand pulling the bag strap over your shoulder before you’d walk up to his desk.

Sabo looked up at you with his pretty blue eyes, his scarred face making your face burn a bright shade of scarlet. “Well…I did want to talk to you about something…Do you have time?” You asked so innocently to him, your soft tone making him crack a soft smile before he nodded in response.

“Of course! Is it a question about the lesson?” He asked you, his hand softly closing up his laptop before he’d fold his hands against the desk.

You pressed your hands against the desk and leaned over it a bit, your breasts grazing over his forearm as you moved your lips in towards his ear. You felt Sabo’s hand twitch as he felt your breast run against the bare skin of his arm.

“I find you very attractive, Mister Sabo.” You whispered seductively into his ear, your words causing him to inhale a bit in shock at your confession.

Sabo’s eyes slowly widened in shock as he watched you pull away from his ear, his face flushing a deep shade of red as his body fell hot from your sudden confession. He was not expecting such a statement from you, in fact he didn’t think you of all people would confess such words to him. Sabo gulped slowly before he’d clear his throat, his eyes adverting your gaze whiled you continued to stare down at him.

“N-Now ________, you know I can’t respond and accept your confession. I’m your professor, not one of your fellow classmates that you can just confess to.” Sabo cuts to the chase and puts his foot down, his words firm as he stared up at you with a straight yet rather fierce expression. You frowned and nodded, your throat clearing as you straightened yourself up.

“R-Right…Sorry if I made you uncomfortable…Have a nice weekend…” You said, your throat beginning to burn as you began to feel…so idiotic for even attempting to speak to your professor in such a way.

Sabo fell silent as he watched you walk away, a heavy sigh leaving his throat as he began to jeopardize his career. Sabo slowly stood up from his seat, his body unconsciously leading his body into his dangerous decision.

“Although…”

His voice immediately brings you to a halt and you turned around as you noticed him standing up from his seat. You watched as Sabo loosened up his tie a bit, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he softly pulled his glasses off of his face and set them down onto his desk.

“You’ve been such a hard-working student in my class. It’d be so wrong do I didn’t reward you for all of your hard work.”

“Come to the teachers lounge in five minutes.”

…

Soft mewls spilled out of your lips as Sabo’s hands kept your legs spread open, his tongue circling at your sensitive clitoris while his eyes focused on your adorable expressions. He loved the way your face twisted with every circular motion his tongue went along your clit.

His cock was hard and tight within his restraints as he listened to your beautiful voice let out your soft moans.

Your body was resting against the couch of the teacher’s lounge, your hips low against Sabo’s face while he was down on his knees pleasing his well-behaved student for her hard work.

You felt his fingers tease at your soaking entrance, his tongue pulling away from your clit while he hissed out from just how wet you were.

You watched as Sabo spits out onto your cunt before he’d rub the natural lubricant into your slit, his hand steadily slipping his middle and ring fingers into your sticky hole while you gasped out shakily from the stretch of his fingers. He curled his fingers up inside of your pussy, his fingertips nudging up into your bundle of nerves while your toes curled within your sneakers.

“You’re a naughty young girl, falling for your professor like this. Do you fantasize of me doing these type of things to you all the time?” He asked, his lips cracking a soft little smile as he began sliding his digits out of your pussy. His thick digits began thrusting in and out of your pussy, his other hand pinching and tending to your clitoris while you threw your head back.

“I-I do~ I’ve…always had feelings for you, M-Mister Sabo~” You finally responded to him, your voice growing a bit exhausted as it also fell slightly hoarse from the soft and suppressed moans. “Just call me Sabo for now sweetie.” Sabo whispered to you, his lips latching back onto your cunt while he reached his free hand up under your sweatshirt.

His hand gropes at your breast underneath your bra, a heavy gasp leaving your lips as your legs began to twitch.

Your back begins to arch as you felt your lower abdomen growing tight, your thighs now trembling as you felt yourself finally yearning to release. Sabo groans out as his cock twitched within his slacks, the feeling of his tongue rolling against your pulsating clit making him want to feel more of you with more than just his tongue.

“O-Oh Sabo~ I-I’m gonna c-cum!~ I’m cumming!~” You warned him, your eyes shutting tightly as you bit your bottom in ecstasy. Your walls tightens around Sabo’s fingers and he feels them pulsating heavily while his fingertips began to grow pruned from your moist and velvety insides clinging to them. Sabo smooches your clit and pulls away before his fingers picks up the pace, a heavy yet erotic exhale leaving his throat as he bit his bottom lip from the sight.

“Be a good girl for me and release on my fingers~ Come now! Don’t hold it back from me!” He urged you to release on his fingers, his breaths growing heavy as he watched your cunt flutter around his digits. You nodded and gasped out shakily, your head throwing itself back softly once again as you whined out a final time.

A heavy groan spilled from your lips as your eyes rolled up in ecstasy, your pussy squirting abruptly around Sabo’s fingers while he exhaled and smiles at the sight of your cum gushing out of you. Your thighs began to twitch while you exhaled shakily, your walls clinging to Sabo’s fingers while he slowly struggled to pull them from your cunt. A string of slick and cum disconnects from your pussy and he sighs out as he suckled and cleaned off his fingers.

“Good job, such an obedient girl.” Sabo praised you, his words making your cunt unconsciously tighten around nothing but air. You slowly lifted your head and watched as Sabo slid your panties back up onto your hips, his hands pulling your skirt down shortly after.

You watched as he slowly got up off of his knees, his hands brushing his slacks off while you could see the slight imprint of his erection sticking out. Sabo cleared his throat and slowly unbuttoned his slacks, his fingers pulling down the waistband of his boxers to reveal his hardened cock to you.

“I’m sure you’d like some extra credit won’t you? Regardless of your my excelling student, you’ll go even farther with extra points~”

You slowly sat up and stared down at his cock, your face flushed as you slowly stared up at him from down below. Sabo smiled down at you, holding his shaft within his hand as he brought his tip up to your soft lips.

“You’re a wonderful student inside and out. After your assignment, you’re free to leave.”

“I’m going to need you to come back tomorrow for a tutoring session. I’m sure you’re going to need it before our next lesson. Is that clear?”

“Y-Yes sir~”

#puddingcupimagines #one piece #one piece smut #one piece fluff #op smut #op fluff #one piece x female reader #one piece sabo #op sabo #sabo smut #sabo fluff #revolutionary sabo #sabo x reader

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imaredshirt · 1 day ago

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Fiddlestan AU where it's been years since Stan and Fiddleford were in a relationship. The breakup was bad - monumentally so. Decades pass and they never fix what went wrong. They go their separate ways - Fiddleford becomes the town's local mechanic, and Stan the local Mr. Mystery.

Stan never tells the kids about his worst breakup, but he also always goes on and on about how much he can't stand the local mechanic. Dipper and Mabel don't see anything wrong with McGucket - sure he's a little weird and every so often his robots wreck havoc in town, but they like him.

(He also seems to be very aware of the strange and weird goings-on prevalent in Gravity Falls and insists that Stan isn't as obtuse about it as he seems, but the kids don't quite believe him)

One of the reasons they see him so often is because the Stanmobile inexplicably breaks down every other week or so. Stan complains (loudly) about cheap modern auto parts and useless mechanics wasting his money, but Mabel and Dipper can't help but notice that he still takes the car to McGucket every single time for repairs.

It never fails. The car makes a weird sound or the tires drive all wonky or it refuses to start at all - whatever the issue, he has Mr. McGucket look at it.

He refuses to see another mechanic in another town or even have Soos take a crack at it. Every time, he calls McGucket up or drives the old clunker to McGucket's garage. There's usually a few insults tosses around (passive aggressive on McGucket's part and outright aggressive from Stan) and once in a while there's even a shouting match - but McGucket always fixes the car right up and sends them on their way with a smile.

Dipper doesn't get it. The car needs repairs so often that at this point he thinks it would just be cheaper to buy a new used car. He's on his way to suggest this and prove his point with a nice list of pros and cons one morning and finds Stan by the car. Stan doesn't notice him and seems sneakier than usual (which actually isn't that unusual) and is about to announce Plan Buy A New Car (And Save Money for Other Important Things Like Pizza) when Stan throws the driver's door open, reaches under the dashboard, and rips a handful of wires right out.

Dipper stares, aghast, as Stan tosses the wires into some nearby bushes.

Stan finally notices Dipper standing there and throws his hands in the air like his nephew didn't just catch him damaging his own car. "Can you believe this! Car's having trouble running again. Cripes, we'll have to take it to What's-His-Face in town! Again! I swear he's doing a shoddy job on purpose. Dipper, I want you to keep an eye on him this time-"

"But," Dipper gestures at the bushes where a red wire is stuck on a branch. "Grunkle Stan, you just--"

"Just found faulty wires stuck under the steering wheel," Stan says. "Old McGucket's losing it, he can't even get a few wiring stuff right anymore. Go get your sister, we gotta head in to town."

And so Dipper goes to get Mable and relay what he just saw, because he's just now realized that all their auto troubles may not be as random as they'd thought.

#fiddlestan #gf #fiddleford mcgucket #stan pines #might write a fic for this #but first! coffee

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unluckywisher · 12 hours ago

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I read your crack fic of playing with Mephisto and omg loved it i was wondering if you may do like a part two where sylus is starring at his messed up house and in order for them not to get scolded they try to make sylus join them in playing tag

I'm actually so happy to write this!! Eeeeeee <3 Mephi shenanigans always good shenanigans.

< Part 1

Sylus walked in to the house being a mess. His eyes, after scanning the room, landed on you and Mephisto on the floor.

You both froze. And then- "It was him!" You pointed at the bird, just as it cawed and pointed at you with its wing. "No! Don't try to pin this on me! I just ran around, you were the one who made the mess-" You started arguing, Mephi making noises of annoyance.

"Stop." Sylus' voice made you both look up again. He sighed and put his hand over his eyes, squeezing his temples.

You both knew what was about to happen. Sylus would scold you and you'd have to clean the mess, and Mephisto would be thrown out to sleep on the living room instead of his usual perch in Sylus' room.

A quick glance between you two. That was all you needed to formulate the plan, no words. You nodded.

Just as Sylus opened his mouth to start his rant, Mephi flew right to his face, covering his eyes with his wings to distract him, while you crawled and tackled his legs, making him fall to the ground.

Before he could react or use his Evol, you stood up, grabbing your feathery accomplice, and ran. "You're it!" You chanted.

With nervous laughter, you dashed across the base, not sure where to hide. Mephisto, who was cradled in your arms but peeking over your shoulder to warn you if he was close, started cawing and wiggling around.

"Is this the game we're playing, sweetie?" You didn't dare turn around, your feet carrying you to-

The gym room. Not many places to hide, unless you could turn into a punching bag.

The door swung open, and you dove under one of the machines. Perhaps it wasn't the best cover, but it was all you had. At least you'd be able to make a run for it if he got closer and you had a clear shot towards the door.

"I can see you, you know." The machine got lifted in the air by black tendrils. "Using your Evol is cheating!" You yelled, accompanied by Mephi's squawking. He chuckled and the machine descended, away from you.

You tried to run around the boxing ring but his legs were longer, and he could catch up to you with ease.

In a desperate attempt to help you, Mephi shot into the air and dove once again to Sylus' face. He even gave you a final look as if saying 'save yourself, i'll hold him back'.

You nodded with respect and ran out of the gym, an annoyed sigh reaching your ears as Sylus grabbed Mephisto and made him disappear with a snap of his fingers.

"I just said using your Evol was cheating!" You repeated without stopping. "Since when have I played by the rules?" He laughed, getting closer.

You had to do something. But you didn't have your little friend anymore, so what were your options?

"Kraa!" A familiar sound echoed along the halls. It seemed like Mephisto had been simply sent back to its perch, but the door now closed, he couldn't get out.

You turned the corner, intending to run straight to the bedroom door. The next step of the plan could wait. Not that there was a plan in the first place. The sounds of running behind you got closer.

Your hands wrapped around the knob and turned. Just as Sylus attempted to catch you-

You both fell forward, though he used his Evol to stop you from hurting yourself. Still, you were now on the floor.

Mephisto flew to Sylus' shoulder, who had quickly stood up and taken a step back with a chuckle, looking down at you. You glared at him.

He leaned down and booped your nose. "You're it." And vanished, along with Mephisto.

"YOU CHEATER! AND MEPHISTO, YOU TRAITOR! COME BACK HERE BOTH OF YOU!!!!"

#u know when i wrote the first one we didn't even know mephi's name? crazy #wisher's wishes #love and deepspace #lads #lnds

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unconventional-lawnchair · 3 days ago

Text

We're Always Shifting {Chapter Three}

Barty Crouch Jr. x Reader

WC: 7.5k

Masterlist

Summary: After a small fight and a make up session, Harry and the reader stumble upon a room that finally harbors some answers.

<--Prev/Next-->

The week following the disastrous attempt to steal from Snape had been a whirlwind of sleepless nights and desperate attempts to make sense of the hollow ache inside you. Hermione, Draco, and Luna had thrown themselves into the task of helping you, their worry manifesting in different ways. Hermione had suggested Legilimency, but Draco had shut that down immediately, his voice sharp with protective indignation. You had almost forgotten what he had gone through; his main argument being it wouldn’t help with memories you claimed not to have- but you know what it was. He didn't want you to feel that pain. Luna had brought you a collection of oddities- an old mirror, a battered music box, a tattered vinyl sleeve- swearing they would spark something, but they only left you feeling more adrift.

Even Draco, normally so quick with a biting remark, had grown strangely subdued. His silences spoke louder than his words, his usual bravado giving way to an unspoken concern that settled heavily between you all. It was like they could sense the cracks forming in you, but none of them knew how to mend them.

You’d tried to distract yourself. Hours spent in the library with Hermione, feigning interest as she scribbled notes with the intensity of someone trying to outrun her own thoughts. You let Luna’s voice wash over you as she rambled about magical creatures, her whimsical theories like threads of light in the dark. And when Draco had dragged you to the Astronomy Tower, pointing out constellations with a confidence that made your heart twist, you let yourself get lost in the stars, searching for answers you couldn’t name.

But nothing worked. The ache remained, gnawing at you like a shadow you couldn’t outrun. And then there was Harry.

He’d been watching you all week, his gaze a quiet weight you felt even when you tried to ignore it. He didn’t push, not at first. But his presence was constant, lingering at the edges of your world like an unanswered question. Every time his eyes met yours, there was something there- something raw and yearning, something you couldn’t face.

By the time Monday morning arrived, you weren’t surprised to find him waiting for you outside the courtyard steps. His tie hung loose, his hair as perpetually messy as ever, but his expression was different. He looked... tired. And the sight of him hit you like a punch to the gut.

“Hey,” He forced a smile, his voice softer than you’d expected. “Do you want to skip class? Go down to the Black Lake like we used to?”

The question was so simple, so Harry, that it almost broke you. Memories of stolen afternoons by the water flashed through your mind; his laughter, the sun on your skin, the feeling that nothing else mattered when you were with him. The sounds of Draco's snark remarks about you actually getting into the water- with Hermione’s fussing about getting caught- You wanted to say yes. You wanted to let him pull you back into that world, even for a moment. But the thought of being alone with him, of facing everything you couldn’t explain, was unbearable.

“I’d… rather be alone right now,” You muttered, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

Harry stepped in front of you, his brows furrowing in frustration. “Don’t do that,” He huffed, his voice sharper now. “Don’t shut me out. It’s not fair.”

You blinked, startled by the edge in his tone. “I’m not shutting you out, Harry. I just-”

“Yes, you are,” He cut you off, his hands clenching at his sides. “You’ve been doing it all week. Hell, longer than that. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice.”

His words hit like a slap, and you looked away, guilt twisting in your chest. “I’m not trying to shut you out,” You muttered softly. “I just… I need space.”

Harry let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Space,” He rasped, his voice laced with disbelief. “That’s rich, coming from you. You’ve had plenty of space, haven’t you? Space from me, but no one else.”

“That’s not fair-”

“No,” He interrupted, his voice rising. “What’s not fair is you disappearing into your own head and leaving me here, wondering what the hell I did wrong.”

The rawness in his voice made your breath catch, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. His green eyes burned with something you couldn’t name- hurt, frustration, desperation- and it cut deeper than you expected.

“Do you have any idea how much I miss you?” He strained, his voice breaking. “I miss us. I miss how things used to be. And I don’t understand why you don’t. It’s like… the second this year started, you wanted nothing to do with me. I need my best friend back.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, shaking your head. “It’s not that simple, Harry.”

“Why not?” He demanded, stepping closer. “Is it because of Ginny? Because of Malfoy? Because I swear, if it’s about them, I’ll-”

“It’s not about them!” You snapped, your voice rising in frustration. The words hung heavy in the air, and Harry flinched, his hurt etched into every line of his face.

“Then what is it about?” He asked, his voice quieter now, trembling with something fragile. “Because I feel like I’m losing you, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a storm, and you felt your walls crumbling. You wanted to tell him everything- the flashes of memories, the way your chest ached when you looked at him, the fear that you were unraveling piece by piece. But how could you, when you didn’t even understand it yourself?

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just… I don’t know how to fix it either.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged, but the determination in his eyes didn’t waver. “Then let me help you,” He huffed. “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out together.”

His words should have been comforting, but they only made the ache worse. You didn’t deserve his loyalty- not when you couldn’t give him the answers he deserved.

Harry reached out, his hand brushing against yours for the briefest moment before he pulled away. “Take your space.” He sighed softly, his voice tinged with resignation. “But don’t forget… I’m still here. I’m always here. I'm not going to just leave you behind.”

You nodded, unable to speak, and watched as he walked away. His shoulders were hunched, his steps heavy, and you felt the tears spill over, hot and unrelenting.

As the courtyard fell silent around you, you realized how deep the chasm between you and Harry had grown. And yet, his words lingered, a promise you weren’t sure you deserved but couldn’t let go of.

"I’m not going to just leave you behind."

If only you could believe him. If only you could believe in yourself.

~~~

The days that followed your conversation with Harry dragged like wading through deep, endless water. You’d catch sight of him in the halls or across the Great Hall, and each time, the quiet anguish in his green eyes clawed at you. It made your chest ache, and no amount of distraction could dull the weight of it.

His words hung in the air, a constant echo in your mind. And yet, how could you tell him the truth? The flashes of fragmented memories, the visions that felt like whispers of another life. The image of Harry with a jagged lightning scar carved into his forehead- it haunted you. But how could you explain something that felt more like a dream than reality? How could you put that burden on him when you didn’t understand it yourself?

You tried to busy yourself, anything to drown the noise in your head. Hermione’s endless study sessions became your sanctuary, though her focused quill scratches only reminded you of your own restless inaction. Draco’s sharp comments- usually a source of irritation- started feeling oddly grounding, like he was trying to anchor you in his own backhanded way. And Luna, sweet Luna, would sit beside you, offering her peculiar trinkets and theories, her voice laced with a gentleness that made you want to cry.

But no matter how hard they tried, and no matter how much you wished you could let them in, the ache in your chest remained, pulling you under.

And Harry.

He didn’t push, not at first. He lingered at the edges of your world, his presence always there, quietly waiting. But his patience wasn’t infinite, and you’d felt it begin to fray. The tension between you grew heavier with every passing day until finally, it all came to a head.

~~~

It was late one evening when you found yourself in the library again, the quiet hum of the room interrupted only by the occasional rustle of parchment. Hermione was beside you, her focus unwavering as she tackled Advanced Transfiguration. Across the table, Draco flicked lazily through a Potions text, his sharp features cast in the warm glow of a lamp. And then there was Luna, perched on the table’s edge, humming softly as she dangled a peculiar dried herb in front of her like it might hold all the answers you sought.

“You’ve been quieter than usual,” Hermione said finally, her tone cautious but kind. Her eyes flicked toward you, her quill pausing mid-scratch. “Still thinking about what Harry said?”

The question hit you and your thoughts came to a halt, though you tried to hide it. You hesitated, fingers tracing the edge of your book. “Yeah,” You admitted, barely above a whisper. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated is putting it mildly,” Draco hummed, his voice cutting but not cruel. “Potter’s as subtle as a Hippogriff, but at least he’s honest. You? You’re like some impossible bloody riddle, and I, for one, am tired of trying to solve it.”

You shot him a glare, but Luna chimed in before you could retort. “Maybe it’s not about solving.” She said dreamily, tilting her head. “Maybe the answer is already there, and you’re just scared of it.”

Hermione sighed, closing her book with a soft thud. “Look, no one’s asking you to figure it all out right this second. But pushing Harry away isn’t fair. You know how he is. He’ll wait forever if he has to, but that doesn’t make it okay.”

The words sank in, the guilt clawing at your insides. “I know.” You murmured, your voice barely audible. “I just don’t want to hurt him.”

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Draco said bluntly, though his tone lacked its usual bite. When Hermione shot him a glare, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “What? I’m just being honest. Someone has to.”

Luna’s voice was soft but steady, her gaze piercing in its own ethereal way. “Maybe it’s not about whether or not you want to hurt him. Maybe it’s about whether or not you trust him enough to let him help.”

The words struck a chord deep in your chest. Trust. That was the heart of it, wasn’t it? Trusting Harry to stay, to weather the storm of your fractured mind when you couldn’t promise him any clarity. Trusting him not to crumble under the weight of what little you could offer.

Without a word, you closed your book and rose from your chair, the scrape of wood against stone drawing all eyes to you. “I need some air,” You mumbled. “I’ll be back.”

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Luna placed a gentle hand on her arm, stopping her. Draco simply raised an eyebrow, though for once, he said nothing. You left before their collective concern could smother you.

~~~

The corridors were quiet, the late hour cloaking the castle in stillness. You wandered aimlessly, your thoughts a tangled mess of guilt and confusion, until your feet carried you to the Astronomy Tower. The crisp night air hit you as you stepped outside, the stars above sprawling endlessly, like an invitation to lose yourself in their vastness.

Leaning against the cold stone railing, you stared out at the dark silhouette of the Forbidden Forest. Your mind raced, memories you couldn’t place flitting just out of reach. The ache in your chest felt heavier here, the weight of it almost unbearable.

“You’re not the only one who hides up here, you know.”

The voice startled you, though it shouldn’t have. You turned to see Harry stepping out of the halls, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looked as exhausted as you felt, the moonlight casting sharp angles across his face.

For a moment, you said nothing, the silence between you thick. Then Harry stepped closer, leaning on the railing beside you. “I didn’t mean to push the other day,” He said quietly, his voice raw. “I just… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help.”

The vulnerability in his tone twisted something deep inside you, but this time, you didn’t look away. “I don’t know how to do this either.” You admitted, your voice breaking. “And I’m terrified that if I tell you what little I do know, it’ll make everything worse.”

Harry frowned, his green eyes searching yours like he could will you to let him in. “Worse than this?” he asked softly. “Worse than watching you slip further away every day?”

You swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill. “Harry, I saw something the other night. It wasn’t real, but it felt real. It was you. But… not you.”

“What do you mean?” His voice was steady, but his brow furrowed with confusion.

You hesitated, the memory of his scar flashing in your mind. “You had a scar. A lightning bolt, right here.” You gestured to your own forehead. “And your eyes, Harry… they looked so tired. Like you’d been fighting something- something I couldn’t see.”

Harry stared at you, his confusion deepening. “A scar? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know.” You confessed, aspirated, your frustration bubbling over. “I feel like my mind is playing tricks on me, showing me things that just don’t make sense. And I don’t know how to make it stop.”

As the silence settled between you, Harry’s hand remained steady on your arm, his warmth grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. His eyes searched yours, and for a fleeting moment, you let yourself believe he could take on some of the weight that had been suffocating you.

“Alright,” He said softly, his voice tinged with that steadfast determination you’d always admired. “Let’s talk about it.”

You hesitated, then nodded, letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. The two of you turned and began walking, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet corridor. For a while, neither of you spoke, the stillness giving you time to gather your thoughts.

“It’s hard to explain,” You began, uncertain. “It’s not just the visions. It’s this… this feeling that something’s missing. Someone’s missing.”

Harry glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “Missing? Like you’ve forgotten someone?”

“Maybe,” you admitted. “Or maybe it’s like they were never here to begin with, but they should’ve been. I don’t know, Harry. It’s like… there’s a gap, and I don’t know how to fill it.”

He stayed quiet, letting you talk without interruption, his attention fully on you in a way that made your chest tighten.

“And it’s not just that.” You continued. “Sometimes I look at people- Pandora, Draco, even Luna- and it’s like I’m seeing two versions of them at once. One that feels… right, and one that doesn’t. Like they’re slightly out of focus. I can’t explain it better than that.”

Harry tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “And me? Do I… feel out of focus?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “No,” You said quietly. “You feel… solid. Real. But it’s like there’s another version of you, one I can’t quite remember but still… know. It’s the you with the scar.” You glanced at him, searching his face for any hint of recognition, but he only looked more confused.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Harry murmured, shaking his head. “But if you’re seeing this, if you’re feeling this… it’s got to mean something, right?”

You nodded slowly, your steps faltering as the ache in your chest deepened. “It has to,” You whispered. “Because if it doesn’t, then I’m just losing my mind.”

Harry stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His hands came to rest on your shoulders, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re not losing your mind,” He validated you firmly. “You’re going through something, something none of us understand yet. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

His words settled over you like a balm, and you felt a spark of hope flicker to life amidst the chaos. You gave him a small, shaky smile, one that he returned with a quiet confidence that made you want to believe in him.

“Come on,” He said, his tone lighter now. “Let’s keep walking. Who knows, maybe you’ll start seeing something that makes sense.”

You snorted softly, the sound startling both of you into a brief laugh. “Unlikely,” You muttered, though a tiny part of you dared to hope.

The two of you continued down the corridor, your steps falling into an easy rhythm. You talked in fits and starts, describing the strange flashes of memory that haunted you, the sensations that tugged at the edges of your consciousness. Harry listened intently, his occasional questions thoughtful but never pressing.

As you turned a corner, you felt it. A tug, faint but insistent, pulling you toward the stretch of stone wall ahead. You slowed, your steps faltering, and Harry noticed immediately.

“What is it?” He asked, his voice low.

“I don’t know,” You murmured, your gaze fixed on the blank expanse of wall. The ache in your chest intensified, sharpening into something almost physical, and before you could say anything else, the stones began to shift.

Harry stepped back, his hand brushing yours as the wall transformed before your eyes. The bricks rippled and rearranged themselves, forming a tall, intricately carved door that hadn’t been there moments ago. You exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Harry, his expression mirroring your own mixture of awe and unease.

“What… is that?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I… don't know.” You whispered in a shaken voice. Then, your jaw tightened and you turned sharply to smile at Harry. He seemed confused.

“But I know someone who might.”

~~~

The quiet corridors of Hogwarts grew heavier with the weight of secrecy, and you found yourself pacing just outside the newly formed door in the stone wall. Your heart raced, caught between the tension of discovery and the uncertainty of what lay within.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention, and you turned just as Harry came into view. He wasn’t alone. Hermione trailed close behind, her expression sharp and curious, while Draco and Luna followed at a more casual pace. Ron brought up the rear, his hair an unmistakable mess, and his face reddened as if he’d just been caught in a compromising position.

“Bit late for a study group, isn’t it?” Draco drawled, though his curiosity was evident as he eyed the strange door.

“Late-night adventure,” Luna corrected him dreamily, her gaze flicking between the door and the stars peeking through the high windows.

Ron, rubbing at his neck, muttered, “What’s this about, anyway? Harry practically dragged me here. Interrupted my… er, reading session.” His ears turned even redder, and Hermione huffed, though a faint blush tinged her cheeks.

“Reading session,” Harry repeated, his lips twitching with amusement. “Right. That what we’re calling it these days?”

Ron shot him a warning glare. “Not the time, mate.”

Hermione, either unwilling to entertain the teasing or simply too intrigued by the door, stepped forward. “What is this place?” She asked, her eyes narrowing as she inspected the intricate carvings on the door. “It wasn’t here earlier.”

You hesitated, glancing at Harry before turning back to the group. “I was hoping you'd know,” You explained softly. “It just showed up when I was telling Harry.. Everything.”

Hermione’s brows knit together in confusion, her logical mind clearly racing to process this revelation. “The Room of Requirement? I’ve read about it, but I’ve never actually seen it. Why now? Why would it appear for you?”

“I don’t know,” You admitted, your voice tinged with frustration. “But whatever’s inside… I think it’s important. I think it might help.”

Draco crossed his arms, his gaze flicking from you to the door with guarded skepticism. “And we’re just supposed to waltz in there, are we? What if it’s a trap? What if it’s not what you think?”

“Draco,” Luna said gently, her voice soft but firm. “The room appears when someone truly needs it. It wouldn’t trick her. It’s here to help.”

Hermione nodded, her curiosity winning out over caution. “Luna’s right. If the room has appeared, it’s because it has something to show us. Something you need.”

Ron, less convinced, muttered under his breath, “Great. Another magical mystery to solve right before curfew. What else is new?”

Harry ignored the grumbling, his gaze locked on you. “If you think this will help, then we’re with you. All of us.” His eyes softened, the vulnerability from your earlier conversation still lingering. “You don’t have to go in alone.”

You felt a surge of gratitude, your chest tightening at the unspoken solidarity between them. Even Draco, for all his snark, looked ready to follow you inside. With a deep breath, you turned to the door and reached for the handle.

The moment your fingers touched the cool metal, it gave way. As the door creaked open, a cool draft escaped, carrying with it the faint scent of old parchment and something metallic, like the tang of magic that had been left undisturbed for years. The room beyond was vast, its high, vaulted ceilings disappearing into shadow. It resembled a library, but not one you’d ever seen before- this one had a strange, disjointed quality, as though the room itself couldn’t decide what era it belonged to.

Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes that ranged from pristine to crumbling. Scrolls were stacked haphazardly in some corners, their edges yellowed with age. A large wooden table dominated the center of the room, its surface littered with papers, letters, and strange objects. Some were covered in thick layers of dust, while others gleamed as if they had just been placed there.

Luna was the first to step inside, her wide eyes taking in the scene with quiet awe. “It’s beautiful,” She murmured, her fingers trailing along the edge of the nearest shelf. “But... sad.”

“Sad?” Ron asked, clearly uneasy as he peered into the room. “It looks like someone’s attic exploded.”

Hermione ignored him, her gaze locking onto the table. “This isn’t just clutter.” She said, her voice hushed with the kind of reverence she usually reserved for particularly rare books. “It’s... research. Someone’s been experimenting here.”

“Experimenting with what?” Draco asked, his tone sharp as he moved cautiously into the room. His eyes swept over the objects, his posture stiff with suspicion.

Harry stayed close to you, his presence a steady anchor as you stepped further inside. Your heart raced as your gaze flicked over the table, the scattered papers and artifacts drawing you in like a magnet. There were pieces of broken clocks, small vials filled with swirling silver liquid, and diagrams that seemed to map out the flow of time itself.

“Time magic,” Hermione whispered, her fingers hovering over a series of intricate sketches. “Whoever worked here was studying time manipulation.”

Draco snorted, though his eyes remained fixed on a glowing hourglass perched precariously on the edge of the table. “Brilliant. Messing with time never ends well. Just ask anyone who’s ever gone near a Time-Turner.”

“You think someone was using a Time-Turner here?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Not just using,” Hermione said, shaking her head as she picked up one of the papers. Her brow furrowed as she scanned the text, written in a spidery hand. “This is advanced. Far beyond what a Time-Turner can do. They were trying to... change something. Or maybe... restore it?”

“Restore what?” You asked, your voice trembling as you moved closer to the table. The ache in your chest had grown sharper, almost unbearable, as though the room itself was reaching out to you.

“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted, her frustration evident as she rifled through the papers. “But it’s clear they were trying to fix something they believed was broken.”

Luna had wandered to a shelf near the back of the room, where a dusty mirror hung on the wall. Her reflection shimmered strangely, as though the glass were rippling like water. “This room remembers,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “Whoever was here... they left pieces of themselves behind.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” Ron muttered, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Draco reached for a stack of letters, his movements careful as though he were afraid they might crumble to dust. “These are addressed to... someone named P.R.” He said, holding up an envelope. His eyes flicked to you. “Does that mean anything to you?”

P. R. The letters echoed in your mind, familiar yet elusive. Your breath hitched as your fingers brushed against one of the objects on the table- a locket, tarnished with age but still bearing the faint engraving of a crest you couldn’t place. The moment you touched it, a wave of dizziness washed over you, and the room seemed to blur.

“Are you alright?” Harry’s voice cut through the haze, his hands steadying you as you swayed.

“I... I think someone I knew was here.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. “Someone important. But I can’t... I can’t remember.”

Hermione placed a hand on your shoulder, her expression softening. “Take your time,” She said gently. “We’ll figure this out.”

As you steadied yourself, your gaze fell on a journal lying at the edge of the table. Its leather cover was worn, the edges frayed, but something about it called to you. You reached for it, your hands trembling as you opened it to the first page.

The handwriting was familiar, looping and elegant, though the words themselves made little sense at first. But as you flipped through the pages, fragments began to emerge- notes about fractures in time, the consequences of changing the past, and a name that sent a chill down your spine.

Bartemius Crouch Junior.

Your breath caught, and the room seemed to spin around you. The locket in your hand grew heavier, the pieces falling into place with a clarity that was almost painful.

“He was here,” You furrowed your brow, your voice breaking. “Someone- Bartemius. He... he was trying to fix something.”

The others exchanged glances, their confusion evident, but Harryreached for your arm. “What do you mean? Fix what?”

You shook your head, tears spilling over as the ache in your chest became too much to bear. “I don’t know,” you choked out. “But I think... I think P.R. was supposed to help him.”

~~~

The hours passed in a haze as the six of you combed through the room, its strange, timeless air wrapping around you like a cloak. Scrolls and letters were examined, diagrams poured over, and objects handled with the utmost care. The weight of unspoken questions hung heavily in the air. Luna, ever practical in her whimsical way, had vanished at some point, returning with an assortment of snacks and a steaming cup of tea, which she set in front of you with a soft smile.

“You’ll think better with a clear head,” She cooed simply, her serene confidence somehow soothing.

You wrapped your hands around the tea, the warmth grounding you as you turned your attention back to the journal on your lap. Harry sat beside you, his presence steady and reassuring as he sifted through a pile of letters. Hermione and Ron were deep in discussion across the table, their voices low but urgent, while Draco stood by the shelves, his sharp eyes scanning the spines of books as though they might hold the answers you sought.

It was Draco who broke the silence, holding up a stack of letters with a triumphant smirk. “These are addressed to someone named ‘Vixen,’” He announced, his tone tinged with curiosity. “Bartemius seems to have been quite... devoted to her.”

The name sent a shiver down your spine, and you exchanged a glance with Harry. “Vixen?” You parroted, your voice barely above a whisper. “That sounds... familiar. But it feels important.”

Draco flipped through the letters, his expression shifting as he skimmed their contents. “He wasn’t just devoted,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “He was... obsessed. Listen to this.”

He cleared his throat and read aloud from one of the letters:

My dearest Vixen,

How am I meant to live in this fractured, hollow world without you? Every breath I take is a cruel reminder of your absence, every sunrise an insult, every hour stretching into eternity without the warmth of your presence. You were my heart, my hope, my soul- and without you, I am unmade. Even now, I feel the edges of myself fraying, the darkness creeping in where your light once shone so brightly.

Do you know how often I find myself reaching for you in the quiet moments? When the silence becomes unbearable, I think of our laughter- the way it echoed in the halls as Regulus teased us or as Dorcas argued over some absurd plan we all knew we’d follow anyway. I think of Pandora’s curiosity, her unyielding faith in the impossible, or Evan’s snark, always ready to rally us when the world seemed set against us. We were unbreakable, weren't we? Together, we had something the rest of the world couldn’t touch. And now... now that unity feels shattered, like glass crushed underfoot. They won't look at me. Call me mad.

But it wasn’t the world that took you from me, was it? It was him.

Dumbledore.

I see his shadow in every crack of this broken life. He played his games, weaving his manipulations like an old spider, and we were caught in his web. You, most of all. He didn’t see you as a person- not the fierce, vibrant force of nature that you were- but as a pawn, something to be sacrificed for his grand design. And now you are gone. He stole you from us. From me.

I hate him for it. I hate him with a fire that burns hotter than any magic I’ve ever known. He will pay for what he’s done- I swear it, my love. He will answer for the hole he has torn in this world, for the family he has destroyed. But my rage, my grief, my hatred- they are nothing compared to the love I still hold for you. A love that will not, cannot die.

And so, I refuse to let this be the end. I refuse to let Dumbledore’s schemes, his lies, and his arrogance win. I will defy him. I will defy the laws of magic, the constraints of time, the will of the universe itself if that is what it takes to bring you back. Whatever the cost, I will pay it. Whatever the consequences, I will bear them. Nothing matters but you, my Vixen.

I will find a way. Regulus, Dorcas, Pandora, Evan- they deserve to see you again. To feel whole again. And I deserve to hold you in my arms, to hear your voice, to live in the world as it was meant to be- where you and I were unstoppable.

I will not fail you.

Wait for me, my love. No matter where you are, no matter how far you’ve been taken from me, I will find you. I will tear down every barrier, bend time itself, and defy the heavens to bring you home.

Forever and always,

Bartemius

The room fell silent, the weight of Bartemius’s words settling over you like a heavy fog. Your chest ached, the same gnawing emptiness that had plagued you all week surging to the surface.

“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered, breaking the silence. “That’s not devotion. That’s... that’s desperation.”

Hermione nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. “Whoever this Vixen was, she must have meant everything to him. And it sounds like something happened to her. Something he blamed Dumbledore for.”

Draco set the letters down, his sharp gaze shifting to you. “And you think this is connected to you? To what you’ve been feeling?”

“I don’t know,” You admitted, your voice trembling. “But it feels... tied to everything. To the visions, the ache in my chest, even the gaps in my memory.”

Luna, who had been quietly examining a small box filled with trinkets, spoke up then, her tone calm but pointed. “What about the initials? P.R. Whoever Bartemius was writing to, they must have been important too.”

Harry hesitated, his expression thoughtful. “P.R.,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It could be a name. Or a title.”

“Pandora Rosier,” Draco said suddenly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

The room stilled, all eyes turning to Luna. She didn’t flinch under the weight of their gazes, her expression serene as always, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes- something deep and unknowable.

“Pandora Rosier,” Draco repeated, his voice firmer now. “Your mother. What if P.R. stands for her?”

Luna tilted her head, considering this. “It’s possible,” she said softly. “But my mother never mentioned Bartemius Crouch Jr. Or anyone named Vixen.”

“But he mentioned her,” Hermione interjected, her voice filled with quiet urgency. “If there’s a connection, it might not have been something she wanted to share. Especially if it involved time magic.”

“Wait a second,” Harry said, frowning. “If Bartemius was writing to Vixen and working with P.R., then where does this locket fit in?”

You looked down at the locket still clutched in your hand, its weight suddenly overwhelming. The crest etched into its surface seemed to shimmer in the dim light, and for a moment, you swore you saw something shift within its tarnished depths.

“I think...” You began, your voice barely audible. “I think this locket was hers. Vixen’s. And somehow, it’s tied to everything.”

Draco leaned closer, his sharp features etched with determination. “Then we need to figure out who Vixen was. And what Mrs. Lovegood’s role was in all of this.”

“And how it connects to you,” Harry added quietly, his green eyes filled with unwavering resolve.

You kept staring at the locket. It seemed old, older then most things in the room. You ran your thumb along the engravings, more stars.

Mindlessly, you lifted the tea to your lips and took a sip, immediately hit with a bitter- almost sour taste. Your expression shifted and you frowned into the cup like the liquid would apologize for it’s flavour, earning a laugh from Harry.

You huffed at him and leaned forward to take a sniff of the steaming mix and your face fell, the smell reminding you of the humid musty smell of the potions classroom. Then the memory hit you, it all hit you at once.

“I have been nothing if not fair tonight, Vix!”

“You guys.” You whispered and set the tea down. “Vix. It's what Professor Snape called me. That night we got caught in his storage closet- he called me Vix. What if.. it's Vixen? Short for Vixen?”

The room went quiet as your words hung in the air, the revelation settling heavily over the group. Hermione’s quill paused mid-scratch, and Harry’s gaze sharpened, a mix of concern and curiosity etched into his features. Draco, ever the skeptic, leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied your expression.

“Vix,” Hermione repeated, her voice soft, but insistent. “That’s what he called you?”

You nodded slowly, the weight of the memory making your chest tighten. “That night in the potions storeroom... it didn’t make sense at the time. I thought it was just Snape being... Snape. But now...”

“It’s a nickname,” Draco interrupted, his tone edged with skepticism. “One he used like he’s done it before. Like it’s... familiar.”

Harry’s brow furrowed, his hands clenching into fists on the table. “And you’re saying it’s short for Vixen. That Snape knows something about this... about you.”

“It would explain why he’s been so cagey,” Hermione murmured, her eyes darting to the journal in front of her. “If he’s connected to all of this, then he’s been keeping it from us on purpose.”

“Typical Snape,” Harry muttered bitterly, running a hand through his messy hair. “He’s always holding onto secrets. This one just happens to be about you.”

Luna, who had been quietly observing, tilted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s protecting something,” she said, her voice lilting and serene. “Or someone.”

The words sent a chill through you, a nagging suspicion worming its way into your mind. “What if he’s protecting me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed was deafening. Hermione was the first to break it, her tone hesitant but thoughtful. “It’s possible,” she said, glancing around the room. “If you’re tied to this Vixen, and she was important enough for Bartemius Crouch Jr. to risk everything for her... then Snape might be trying to keep you out of harm’s way.”

Draco scoffed, though there was an edge of unease to his voice. “Or he’s just doing what he always does: sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong and making things worse for everyone.”

“Draco,” Luna said gently, her eyes meeting his with quiet certainty. “Not everything is as it seems. Especially when it comes to memories.”

Your grip on the locket tightened, the cold metal grounding you as your thoughts swirled. Snape’s words from that night echoed in your mind over and over.

“I need to talk to him,” You said suddenly, your voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling under the surface. “If Snape knows something- if he’s been keeping this from me- I have to confront him.”

Ron furrowed his brow, shifting uneasily as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, alright,” he muttered, voice edged with skepticism. “But if Snape’s trying to protect you, you really think he’s just gonna spill everything the second you ask? He’s not exactly known for being... forthcoming.”

Harry gave a curt nod, his jaw tightening. “Ron’s right. Snape’s a master at keeping secrets. If he doesn’t want you to know something, he’ll find a way to shut you down.”

Draco’s sharp laugh broke the tension. “Oh, please,” he drawled, leaning against the edge of the table. “Snape’s not some untouchable genius. If he’s hiding something, we’ll find a way to pry it out of him. Subtlety isn’t Potter’s strong suit, but-”

“I’m sitting right here, Draco,” Harry cut in, his tone clipped.

“Enough!” Hermione snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t about who’s better at manipulating Snape. The question is, how do we even get him to listen? Confronting him outright might not be the best idea if-”

The sound of your head hitting the back of the sofa interrupted her. Everyone turned to you, their conversations faltering as they noticed your sudden shift. You had sunk deeper into the plush cushions, eyes fluttering closed, the tension in your face softening as if the fight had drained out of you entirely.

“Hey,” Harry said, his voice low with concern as he stepped closer. “Are you... okay?”

“Just tired,” You mumbled, your words slurring slightly. Your head lolled to the side, and you let out a long, heavy breath. “Really, really tired...”

“That's strange,” Hermione murmured, exchanging a look with Harry. “You were fine just a minute ago.”

Luna, perched on the arm of a nearby chair, tilted her head with an almost serene expression. “Oh, that’s the sleeping draught,” She said simply, as if announcing the weather.

“What?” Draco straightened, his sharp gaze snapping to her. “Sleeping draught? What are you talking about?”

“The tea,” Luna explained, her tone light and airy. “I added a touch of sleeping draught. She’s been so restless, and I thought it might help her relax.”

“You drugged her?” Ron yelped, his voice jumping an octave. “Without telling her?”

Luna shrugged, her dreamy demeanor unbothered by the growing alarm in the room. “She needed it. And it’s not as if it’ll harm her. It’s just a gentle nudge toward sleep.”

“Luna!” Hermione’s voice was half-scolding, half-exasperated. “You can’t just-”

“She needed it,” Luna interrupted, her voice gentle but resolute as she looked at you, now fully dozing against the sofa cushions. “You’ve all seen how exhausted she’s been. This will give her a chance to rest. The Galanthus Nivalis I put in will help her memories.”

“The what now?” Draco hissed and snapped his entire body toward Luna. But she just smiled.

“Snowdrop. We planted it in Herbology weeks ago. It finally dried.” She hummed blissfully. “She needs it. It will help her memories, with her thoughts. And the Sleep draught.” She muttered before turning to smile at your sleeping form as Harry took off his cloak and laid it over you. “Encouragement.”

The group was silent for a moment, everyone staring at Luna in bewilderment.

“Bloody hell, remind me to never cross you, Lovegood.” Ron muttered with wide eyes.

Luna tilted her head, her serene smile unshaken by Ron’s comment. “Oh, I would never do anything harmful, Ronald,” She said sweetly. “Unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“That’s somehow not reassuring,” Draco muttered, narrowing his eyes as he took a seat beside you, watching your steady breathing. His tone was sharp, but the tension in his posture betrayed his concern. “What exactly is this supposed to do, Luna? Beyond putting her to sleep?”

“The snowdrop is for clarity,” Luna explained patiently, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “It’s said to bring light to the shadowed corners of the mind. Combined with the sleeping draught, it should help her relax enough to let her thoughts surface. Sometimes, the mind holds on too tightly to things it isn’t ready to let go of. This will give her space to remember.”

“Or,” Draco countered, leaning forward with a glare, “it’ll just mess her up more, and we’ll be left cleaning up the pieces. Did that thought cross your mind, Luna?”

Hermione interjected, her tone exasperated. “Oh, stop it, Draco. You’ve seen how much she’s been struggling. Luna might actually be onto something. Snowdrop has restorative properties- Professor Sprout mentioned it in class. If this gives her a moment of peace, we should be grateful.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” Luna said dreamily, her gaze flickering to you again. “I thought you might understand.”

Harry, who had been silently watching over you, let out a soft sigh. “Luna’s right. She’s been pushing herself too hard- too much guilt, too much pressure to figure this all out. If this helps, even a little, then it’s worth it.”

Draco let out a frustrated huff but didn’t argue further, his eyes lingering on you as if searching for any sign of discomfort. “Fine,” He muttered, leaning back in his chair. “But if she wakes up confused, crying, or worse, I’m blaming Lovegood.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Because that’s new.”

“Enough,” Hermione snapped again, rubbing her temple. “The important thing is that she’s resting. Let’s use this time to figure out our next move.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances before nodding. Harry shifted closer to you, adjusting the cloak he had draped over you to ensure you were warm. His gaze softened, and he muttered under his breath, “She’ll be alright.”

Luna, who had been humming softly to herself, smiled warmly at him. “She will,” She said. “You’ll see.”

For a while, the room was quiet, save for the faint rustle of parchment as Hermione returned to her research and the occasional muttered comment from Draco as he sifted through the letters. Ron, looking thoroughly unsettled by the turn of events, busied himself by examining one of the dusty bookshelves, while Harry remained by your side, his unwavering presence a silent promise.

As you lay there, your breathing even and your features peaceful, something in the air seemed to shift. The magic of the room, subtle but ever-present, seemed to hum in response, as if waiting for the moment you would wake. Waiting to come alive once more when you returned.

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