#I love s snake and I will die for her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunnami · 1 year ago

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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.”

You blink.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making.

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls.

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!”

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze. Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!”

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly.

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.”

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.”

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say.

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies.

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—”

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.”

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you.

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”)

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—”

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.”

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?”

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.”

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home.

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that.

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”)

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.”

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze.

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.”

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much.

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.”

“I know.” Harry grins.

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.”

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally.

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow.

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers.

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.”

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.”

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you.

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast.

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.)

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?”

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.”

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you.

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.”

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze.

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.”

“Oi!”

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.”

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.”

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary.

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.”

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”)

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.”

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.”

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!”

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?”

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically.

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name.

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now.

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?”

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.”

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right?

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.”

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily.

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.”

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.”

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable.

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced.

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear.

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.”

Harry’s eye twitches.

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.”

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly.

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?”

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.”

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.”

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.”

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading.

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands.

“In your dreams!” You shrill.

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.”

Harry nods. “Is it time already?”

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.”

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?”

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.”

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A��And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?”

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?”

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat.

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.”

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this.

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes.

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.”

“One date, then.”

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?”

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.”

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.”

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you.

“And I want to—”

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—”

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration.

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words.

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.”

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.”

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.)

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance.

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.”

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm.

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.”

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.”

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth.

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.

He falls in love.)

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.”

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?”

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.”

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.”

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.”

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.”

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

#hp angst #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #marauders angst #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader

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fics-lovebot · 5 months ago

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bts fic recs

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

divider creds: @notaorbital & @v6que

LAST UPDATED: 14/11/2024

here you can find jungkook ´s m.list

poly / ot7

love octagon? - ( @whyse7vn ) this was just too funny to me fsdfhsd, i always read it when a want to lift my mood

lovesick - ( @angelicyoongie ) yandere ot7, soulmate au, stalking, harrasment, you got 7 soulmates you don´t know about the you deff know about you, this is an on going series, hopefully i´ll be updated soon bc i loved it

seokjin

tba

yoongi

yoongi joins you in your bath and you talk about your days - ( @borathae) fluffy, vampire!yoongs, this is so wholesome :(

bewitched - ( @borathae) smut, fluff, vamp!yoongi, witch!reader, you put a spell on him so he cant cum till you say so, ON MY SOUL I FELT THIS ALL THE WAY TO MY TOES, the smut is gewwwd and the fluff is amazing ughhh, loved it

namjoon

namjoon loves creampies - ( @euphoricfilter ) smut obv, he is an ASS gUY as he shouldd, he luvs him some reverse cowgirl position, obssesed with watching cum dripping outta you, he´s just laying there thinking nasty stuff while watching you ride or die, its TEW MUCHHH

belly bulge -( @euphoricfilter ) ,,,,,do you even have to ask what this is about?, ITS A LOT GOING ONNNNNN, talking about big beeffy thick wide strong bear built namjoon and his big ol dicc, who wouldnt like this??, he jerks himself off throught your stomach...

forg_tful - ( @joon4eva ) established relationship, angstt, fluff, this one makes me cry every tIMEEEE, he forgets something important for the 2394823948th time so reader thinks he just doesn´t care, he doesn´t like being away from her :((((, but he owns it up bc he is a grown mature emotionally stable man, we love it

love language - ( @rmnamjoons ) soulmate au, mute!reader, non idol au. THE FLUFF IS BEAUTIFULLLLLLL, i love joons pov before meeting her, and the day the meet???? i died, it was so cute

blushes from a rose - ( @army-author ) fluff, supernatural au, popular witch!namjoon, shy forest nymph!reader, so like,,i need a movie of this asap

hoseok

tba

jimin

split - ( @sombreboy ) smut, snake hybrid!jimin, he has a fORKED tongue and TWO cocks!!!! :D NOW THIS, i remember reading it a long time ago and thinking it was the best hybrid!jimin fic out there, i´ve read about him being a cat, a dog, etc but a SNAKE??? now that´s new, loved it

faded love - ( @jamaisjoons ) angst, fluff, cheating husband!jimin, ceo!jimin. "he doesn’t need to say it. because you can feel your husband, park jimin, falling out of love with you." ANGST FESSSTTTT, another one for my personal collection, i love this sm

taehyung

devotion - ( @borathae) smut, vampire!tae, period sex, multiple orgasms, period blood licking, its a LOT GOING ON I- wow, pls just read it

These Things Take Time - ( @laughing-with-god ) yandere! supernatural tae, gaslighting, gore, horror, ex bf jimin, this is written so well , ghost? tae but not really, doppleganger kinda thing, loved it

let love be enough - ( @jingabitch ) ex-husband!tae, cheater!tae, divorce au, you meet again after 20 years on your daughter´s wedding. YUPPP this is an angst fest right here, probably my favorite tae angsty fic out there, i LOVE IT

the curse of a crush - ( @army-author ) fluff, supernatural au, down bad witch!taehyung, witch!reader, he´s so in love with you he thinks you´ve cursed him with a love potion, SO CUTEEE

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maiiruo · 1 year ago

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abby anderson secretly loved when you got all dominant. she was desperate, carnal to make you feel so, so good.

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა⋆｡°✩ abby was so rarely submissive. she rarely let you dom her and, when she did, she would act all stubborn when you finished—as if she wasn’t the one begging to be fucked like, 5 minutes ago.

this time, you wanted to surprise her. knowing abby, she would act like she wasn’t enjoying it, only giving in once you slowly broke her and brought her to her limit. she done it to herself, really. she had just come back from patrol, putting on her big girl front as if you couldn’t tell she probably, no, definitely overworked herself again. as usual. “i’m fine! you think a few runners could shake me?” you were watching her chest rise and fall, up..down..up..down. she was trying so hard not to show how out of breath she was. “abby…you can tell me if it was a lot, you know that?” “course i do! come on, don’t worry about me. i wanna worry about you.”

she snaked her hands around your waist, so much bigger than yours that you were always surprised at how perfectly she fit against you. her arms tensed, veins lightly showing as she held your thighs to lift you, taking you both to your room with ease. you played along, moaning through kisses, telling her how much you wanted her. although you wanted to tease her, the temptation to give in was so, so strong.

eventually, you told her you wanted to ride her. nothing more, nothing less. “my pretty girl wants to ride me? sure, if your thighs don’t give out.” her pretty smile mocked you—she didn’t think you could do it. typical.

she already had her strap, laying on her back with that stupid smirk on her face. if stupid meant unbelievably hot you were dripping down your thighs, then yeah, she looked so fucking stupid. grabbing the rope from the drawer, you tied her arms together as tight as you could and gave her simple instructions. “you can’t touch me unless i say so.” her eyes widened, “fuck…are you trying to dom me again? god no, baby please not today. i just wanna fuck you, please?” she said “trying” as if you hadn’t done it before. she was in denial and it showed, so, so clearly.

it was your turn to use that stupid smile she always weaponised against you, giggling as you sat on her stomach and her ‘stupid smile’ turned into an extremely pissed scowl. you teased her nipples on top of her vest, using her sensitivity to your advantage. “f-fuck baby, come on. i can’t do this again.” you acted like you couldn’t hear her, still fixated on how her nipples perked up under the fabric, friction making her back arch so slightly. it was funny, really. the way you being gentle made her so frustrated. if you treated her the way she did you, you’re convinced she might genuinely die.

finally, you lifted her vest to get a look at her pretty nipples, all swollen and so much more sensitive than they were before. the cold nipped her skin, warmth only enclosing her once your lips latched around her. “shit…you wanted to s-see my boobs that bad?” she was still trying to uphold her little facade as if you couldn’t see her eyes flittering everytime you touched her.

“baby. i’m done, p-please let me fuck you. god i can’t do this.” she always did this. saying she ‘can’t do this’ before you even started doing anything. “you’ll be fine, abby. i’ll make you feel good, yeah?”

after abby waited “so long”, her words, you moved yourself off of her stomach to straddle her thighs, placing kisses on her red cheeks despite her still trying to look mean. she couldn’t intimidate you when she was the one tied up, completely vulnerable for you. “you wanna fuck me? you have to beg for it.” you’re sure she knew that yet her pride was still overbearing. “fuck no. i don’t know what you’re on for you to even think of me begging.”

as you said, she did it to herself. her pride was higher than anyone you’d ever seen, saying she needed to fuck you yet her pride was this strong? textbook insanity, probably.

apparently, you didn’t make her desperate enough for her to beg which seemed close to a crime in abby’s eyes. you put one of your hands behind her to rest on her leg, leaving your cunt exposed right in front of her face, letting her see how good it would feel to have your slick all over her cock. “oh this is fucking low.” she knew what you were doing and she hated it, struggling to undo herself of the binds you forced her into. you pushed your fingers between her pretty lips before slipping them through the folds of your pussy and exaggerating your whimpers to let her know what she was missing, what her pride was forcing her to miss out on.

“god fine i’ll beg, just—please. baby i need you, please let me fuck you—i’m sorry, i was stubborn but i promise i’ll be good. please ride me, i’ll do anything.” butterflies swarmed your stomach hearing abby beg so desperately. it had an effect no one else could even come close to replicating. still trying to uphold your dominance, you slowly slid down onto her cock while maintaining eye contact with abby—poor girl was more flustered than ever, she didn’t know what to do with herself. “you gonna call me mommy?” you teased her, half sure that she would use the last of her energy to call you insane for even asking. “uh-huh—t-thank you mommy, you’re so perfect…fuck—wanna touch you so bad, please m-mommy.” her eyes glossed over and her hips bucked ever so slightly, still fighting the ropes you tied her with.

the friction from her strap grazed her clit so gently, more than enough for her to completely lose it. her voice became so much louder than yours, whimpers that filled the room and her embarrassment no longer mattered. “m-mommy i wanna make you cum, please cum for me i’ll be good, i promise. i know i was lying—i won’t do it again, p-please i’m sorry.”

“baby— mommy, i’m sorry. please don’t stop, i won’t do it again.” she was so close to tears all because you stopped, her desperation taking complete control of her senses. of course it was only a strap but she could’ve sworn she could feel you around her cock. you carried on making yourself feel good, using her for your benefit and keeping the same speed you were at before.

“y-you want mommy to cum for you?” you were breathless, thighs aching from how hard you were fucking yourself. you’d never tell her that—she’d never let you live it down. “uh-huh, mhm please cum for me, i wanna cum with you mommy, please let me cum.” your voices revelled in each other, satisfaction filling the thick air that was filled with your sexes and your sweetness leaving a ring around the base of her cock. you slipped your middle and ring finger into your cunt one last time before making abby “open up.”, making her whimper as her tongue indulged in how fucking good you tasted.

you gently untied abby’s ropes before laying on her chest, kissing her nose and explaining how proud you were, how good she was for you. the embarrassment came flooding back through her head, hands flying to her face as her brain replayed the sounds she made, the things she said. “god i am never letting you do that again.” you gave her your famous sure you won’t look that made her double over, talking under her breath as if you both weren’t pressed up against each other. “maybe sometimes, or whatever.”

don’t steal, translate or repost my work

©maiiruo

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #sub! abby #top! abby #tlou #smut #abby tlou #abby smut #abby x reader #tlou2 #tlousmut #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader #abby x f!reader #abby x fem reader #wlw #wlw smut #lesbian #ꨄ︎ masterlist !

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vetochkarowan · 25 days ago

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✨Let's talk about OCs!✨How would you describe your OC's personality/aesthetic? What's your favourite thing about them? Tell us a fun fact(s) about your OC or their creation!

❤️Send this to at least 3 people to spread some OC appreciation!❤️

Oh, thank you so much for addressing this question to our department of "Hyperfixation on OCs"! I happen to have a PhD in Macology, so buckle up—here comes PART ONE (this lecture is going to be long, make yourself comfortable).

So, for my first playthrough, I played Baldur's Gate with my husband, and we created a warlock-durge character together. That’s why Mac didn’t show up right away. (Fun fact: my husband suggested romancing Gale, but I let out a squeal of a 14-year-old fan at a BTS concert and he relented.)

Eventually, I realized I was head over heels for the game’s story and needed to play it again (and again). This time, with my own character. I liked the warlock durge’s story and thought Mac would fit with that tragic lute-player vibe. But then it hit me: you know what this party is missing? A normal person!

Spoiler: I didn’t manage to create a "normal" character because what’s a protagonist without a tragic backstory? But that’s how Tav—Mac—was born.

For the second playthrough, I started out determined to make her a sunshine girl with two long braids, but—surprise—braids were a mod! The disappointment was crushing. So, I went back to my favorite classic: curly red hair. (You can actually see all her stages of creation on my concept art sketches. Yes, I draw my characters before playing them...)

The name Mac (originally she was called Robin, by the way) came to me because of her hair color: "mac" means "poppy" in Russian. And so, for almost a year now (her anniversary’s coming up!), she has utterly taken over my heart and mind, with her guitar and her white streaks.

### Fun Facts About Mac:

- All the women in her family are named after flowers, and she’s dead set on continuing that tradition.

- She’s a half-elf: her mom is a wood elf, and her dad is human.

- She spent most of her childhood at sea because her dad is the captain of a semi-pirate ship (modern AU version: he’s a marine biologist).

- Her mom was a scientist who disappeared when Mac was nine. She was searched for tirelessly but was never found.

- Mac has a maternal aunt named Lutik (Buttercup) who keeps the entire family in line with an iron fist.

- She chose the bard profession because her mom dreamed of it.

- As a child, she was kidnapped and sent to an island with other children, where she had to survive for two years.

- On that island, she was nearly devoured by a giant snake but narrowly escaped (that’s where her scars come from; this story exists in her modern AU too).

- Her white streaks appeared during her time on the island.

- After witnessing most of the other kids die, she developed an obsessive need to protect all children. (I even have a little comic about this.)

- She adores children in general.

- She fights with a crossbow and illusion magic.

- Her favorite animal is a rabbit.

- She loves collecting little trinkets—stones, shells, charms.

- Her favorite color is turquoise.

- She’s an amazing musician and loves singing most of all.

- Singing and... Astarion.

- She’s a early bird.

- Her favorite things include the smell of the sea, pebbles, spruce coffee with milk, the sound of applause, a crackling campfire, warmth, traveling, and swimming.

- Her family has a villa near Baldur’s Gate, gifted to her by her father, where she and Astarion settled after their adventure. (In the modern AU, it’s a two-room apartment.)

That concludes PART ONE! Up next: her first concepts.

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whitehotwild · 6 months ago

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i've never done an anon before so i'm so sorry if it sounds weird 😭😭 but do you think billy and his younger s/o would go to like, those summer carnivals? like, the ones that are at night? idk if that's js in my hometown tho 😭 she most definitely dragged him there and he reluctantly went bc he loves her, but lwk he ends up enjoying it. idkkk i js feel like there isn't enough soft!billy content on here and you are my only supplier of it 🙏🙏

OUUUUUUUU OU OU OU you just scratched an itch... im so giddy about this. (also ily and i'll gladly be ur supplier)

we only have fall carnivals in my town which sucks bc summer carnivals sound so much more fun.

you like... heard from a friend that there's this one in NJ, you try to convince butcher to go with you. you tell him that it's only 2 hours by way of penn station (nightmare nightmare nightmare), that he doesn't have to drive you, that you'll buy the entry tickets.

"let's just go to coney island, yeah? i'm not goin' to bleedin' New Jersey for a night just because you wanna ride some roller coasters. you got a ride right here..." he smirks, thinking he's oh so clever.

all it does is make you whine and go limp in his hold, "but pleeeeeeease??? It'll be fun! you're such a fucking party pooper."

it doesn't ever take much to make him give into you, that's his one weakness, "i ain't no fuckin' 'party pooper'. you're just a pain in me arse."

"okay... so are we going or not?"

butcher sighs with an unimpressed look on his face, "fine."

and then like when you're actually at the carnival, you make good on your promise to buy the entry tickets (wristbands whatever), and butcher pays for the games/rides.

after half an hour, he's spent only about $20, "I ain't spendin' over 50 bucks, got it?"

at the moment, you're more worried about what you're gonna get from the food truck than anything coming out of his mouth, "mhm. yup, got it."

you beg him to get on one of the rides with you and he finally gives in after a while, but the second you get off the ride he's looking at you like he kinda wants to kill you... just a little bit.

"you're tryna give me a bloody heart attack. i ain't doing that again."

(i'll die on the hill that butcher hates roller coasters just because i think it would be very funny.)

$100 and two hours later, butcher's finally cutting you off after winning you one of those big teddy bears from one of the game booths.

(yes, he knows he said $50. yes, he knows he's wrapped around your little finger)

"you happy, pet?" he asks you once you both settle on the train back to the city. there's no snark in his voice like you'd expect, just genuinely wanting to know that you had a good night.

you nod against his shoulder, your legs propped up in the empty seat in front of you, "yeah, i'm happy. you happy?"

butcher looks down at you, the way your head rests against him, the way your arm is snaked through his. he allows himself, just for a moment, to believe that he does deserve this... that he does deserve you and the joy you bring back to him.

"i suppose so. you like your bear?" he nudges you gently, motioning to where you sat the big stuffed bear in the seat in front of him.

"mhm... gonna name it 'billy jr.'" you tease with a tired smile, you're halfway to falling asleep and the train's barely left the station.

billy (sr.) huffs, unimpressed, but there's a small smile on his face, he untangles his arm from yours and wraps it around your shoulders, covering your eyes with his hand as he pulls you a bit closer into his side.

"ah, fuck off... you're delirious, go to sleep."

୨ ♡ ୧

just wanna say sorry that im not getting to requests as quick as i'd like! got a lot of shit happening atm BUT im on vacay atm so hopefully i can pump some out this week! LOVE YOU BYEEEE!

#THIS GOT LONGER THAN I EXPECTED AND I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO END IT #moral of the story...#i need him.#butch baby ౨ৎ #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #the boys #billy butcher brainrot go brr #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher x you #wrote half of this in the car on the way to charleston... SUMMA TYME!!!!!

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fairyhaos · 2 years ago

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how seventeen react to their s/o bringing home a pet

requested by anon: "svt members reaction to you bringing home a pet? (Can change the animal for different members like kitten for wonwoo, puppy for mingyu etc) "

notes: i kinda altered it a bit to pet sitting? bc i just feel like it's a breach of consent (?) for you to bring in a whole entire pet to their lives unannounced lol

masterlist

seungcheol

stares at you and the cat in your arms with great scepticism as you beam up at him. you're looking after the cat for your friend while she's away for a couple of days, and seungcheol is very reluctant to call the cat cute for that entire time. he's loyal to kkuma and dogs, you know? does grudgingly admit that he's "not a bad cat" the day you're driving to drop the cat off to your friend. definitely complains about how much hair the cat shed tho

jeonghan

"oh, cool, a dog. did you pick him up off the sidewalk?" unbothered tbh. at least, he pretends to be, but he's then cooing all over the dog that you brought into the house. feeds the dog treats literally every five seconds, subsequently has him in love with him. is offended when you ask him to take the dog on the walk in the evening tho, bc wdym dogs need exercise???? he doesn't need exercise come on can't you take the dog on a walk instead?

joshua

the most adorable being he's ever seen is sitting in his room awww!!! oh and you're there too, he supposes. is shocked but mostly just vv soft when he sees you playing with a cute rabbit on his bed bc you'd bought it for your little niece and it had arrived early. pets the bunny for hours, fingers running through the soft fur, and manages to make the rabbit so comfortable in his arms that it falls asleep and just. cannot be woken no matter what you do

junhui

almost steps on the tortoise in his absentmindedness until you scream at him to look where he's going. then he's screaming too bc why is there a tortoise in the house?????? watches it with great awe as it walks very slowly around the house. tries to imitate the way it chews the lettuce leaves. asks how tortoise are able to do the deed with a shell on their back, and promptly watches several nature documentaries to find the answer

hoshi

the snake is out of control when he comes home, and as he sees you desperately trying to untangle the thick green thing from around their curtain pole, he screams and promptly backs out of the room. is shaking with terror the entire three days you're pet sitting the snake for your friend, despite the fact that you don't let the snake out of its glass box for the rest of the time it's here after that initial incident. tells you very seriously that you need to warn him of these things beforehand unless you want him to have a heart attack and die

wonwoo

"oh, when did we get a cat?" is totally chill. loves the adorable kitty that you've brought home for a couple of days to pet sit, bonds with it almost immediately. when the cat meows, he responds back like he knows exactly what the cat is saying to him. by the time your friend gets back, the cat is essentially refusing to part from wonwoo and is literally digging her claws into wonwoo's sweater in an attempt to not leave him.

woozi

takes one look at the hedgehog that's temporarily taking up space in the corner of your room, laughs, and says it's basically the animal form of him. thinks the prickly and adorable little animal is rlly cute, but he's not really home enough to fully be able to spend time with it. takes a couple of pics and sends them to soonyoung tho, pretending that it's a deadly porcupine because honestly, hoshi probably would probably genuinely believe anything he said

minghao

"we're not keeping a skunk in the house." "hao, she's not a skunk!" "it has a weird tail and striped markings like a skunk, ergo, it's a skunk." "no!!" is not the most pleased when he comes home to you grinning at him, a ferret sitting on the top of your head. is slightly placated when you tell him you're just taking care of her for a friend who's away. will not touch the ferret, looks over in slight disgust and mild wonder as you play with the animal running up and down your arm. won't let you actually get a pet ferret tho.

mingyu

there's a puppy in his apartment omg omg omg!!!! is excited for all of five minutes before he like "hey >:(( you're not replacing me with an actual pup are you??". still gets kinda sad when you tell him you're just pet sitting tho. bonds with the pup so well, is well on the way to replacing your friend as the puppy's actual owner lmao. takes the pup out with him when he goes for a morning run, and is actually really good n diligent at picking up the poop when the dog does its business on the street

dokyeom

he is enamoured oh god. you're not gonna be able to talk to your bf for a good hour bc he's not even gonna notice you're there. is totally fine with pet sitting your friend's dog for a week, and is utterly delighted to find out that the pup knows a few simple tricks. spends hours telling the puppy to roll over and sit and hold out its hand and by the end of it, both the pup and dokyeom are giddy with happiness. nearly cries when you have to say goodbye to the pup, asks your friend if he can pop by to say hi to his new friend sometimes

seungkwan

you adopted a dog without him?????? he literally already owns a dog why would you want to get another one. nods in understanding when you tell him you're pet sitting, pulls up a feeding and walking rota to make sure that the dog has The Best time while staying with you two. lowkey gets really sassy when the dog starts making high pitched barking noises at him for no reason, seems to communicate with the dog crazy well

vernon

he stands there confused at the sudden appearance of a fish tank in your living room for a good few minutes. turns out, your uncle is getting his new one fitted at home, but until he can get it fully prepped he needs someone to look after the fish, and that someone had been you. stares in fascination at the fish for a good hour that evening, mesmerised by them moving around. you laugh at him and call him a cat but he can't even deny it because the fish are just so fascinating to look at and honestly, he feels like a cat himself

chan

uhhhh honestly he's really not sure how he should react when he comes home to you staring at a glass box full with a bunch of twigs. it takes him a while to see the stick insect, thinks that maybe he should get his eyes checked out because ten minutes really is too long. it doesn't rlly bother him tbh. does think it's a little frustrating that it's taking him so long to see the insect. double checks and triple checks with you that there's actually an insect in that box and you aren't just messing with him.

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reactions tags: @jeonginssa @magicaltonaru @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @turningcarat @zarara @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @iheartyujin @summery-bat @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @ejspencer14 @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @saythename-chess @yonabutnotyuna @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @sunshinekyeom-sang @ocyeanicc @zozojella @thesmellofcoffeeandrain @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @nananacomeonnnn @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @hansolaria @gam3bo1z @marisblogg @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt

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thesharktanksdriver · 8 months ago

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Omg I’m having so many thoughts about the newer stuff of one piece.

These are all jumbled thoughts I came up with recently so it’s unstructured and probably doesn’t make any sense but fuck it

Masterlist for Determiation!

Spoilers for egghead

Determination! Y/n and the seraphim’s would be so god damn interesting like yall won’t believe the sheer amount of ideas running through my head.

Like y/n accidentally running into the Seraphim’s in Egghead after getting separated from the straw hats and absolutely going still when they see S-String(I shall call him that since they’d yet to reveal his designation) and absolutely going into a blind haze where they apologize to him not realizing he’s not Doffy (or at least the Doffy that they feel like they failed).

And it’s there that their dragged to meet the other Seraphim’s

Maybe it was programmed into them to find and retrieve y/n, maybe even protect them.

So the young lunarian children linger by y/n’s side and naturally become curious. Because how can they not be? Especially when all their lives so far had been carried out in a lab, born from artificial wombs that fashioned them of DNA stolen from various people and a species long dead and forgotten.

How can they not be curious when this person they were ordered to retrieve and protect knew of who they were cloned of. Knew more about them than they did themselves outside their programming.

So the children ask questions and they learn

Maybe S-Snake asks about her “mother”, being the only girl had always been a bit lonely for her even when her “brothers” had done their best to make sure she knows she’s accepted. So she wonders about Boa, and how she had come from an island full of women. What was that like? Would they still brush her hair like S-Bear does? Or pat her head for doing a good job like S-Shark did?. She asks about if she was as pretty as Boa, if she was good enough for her “mother” if they ever would meet, a bit of insecurity for the first time curling up in her stomach before y/n says that Boa would love her no matter what, accept her no matter what. Because Boa would never turn down a woman in need, let alone a little girl that was imprisoned such as she was. In that sense she finds a comfort in you, especially as you indulge in things her brothers would usually sigh at but agree to anyways. Without a hassle you let her do little shows where she shows off her fire or make small drawings with the limited art supplies they have. When S-Snake draws you with her and the other Seraphim your heart squeezes ever so slightly.

Maybe S-Hawk has y/n teach him the techniques that Mihawk had taught them when on his island. In a sense he’s curious of his “father” but hides it away as he’d rather die than openly admit the gnawing questions in his mind. When y/n lets him use the blade gifted by Mihawk he can’t help but instinctively rub his thumb over the hilt where the greatest swordsman initials lay carved, a smile also instinctively crawling up the clones face. When his “siblings” become too much and he wants peace and quiet y/n lingers by his side, a silent company that he appreciates as memories not of his own of similar occasions plague his mind. He usually doesn’t enjoy these influx of memories but these ones are peaceful, not filled in bloodshed but instead of a small garden full of ripe fruits he doesn’t know the names of as well as the times in which he narrowly helps them escape an accidental death that may or may not leave S-Hawk on his toes and leads to his presence lingering by your side.

S-Shark notices that y/n seems the most comfortable with him though he knows it makes sense since they’re apart of the crew his progenitor joined. He doesn’t know how to feel about Jinbe, but he does retain a certain sense of respect for him even before he learns more about the fishman and how much he fought for his people. Much like the others he has a sense of curiosity of the world but his is specifically towards the sea, moreso a place where gilled people and pretty women with fish tails lived. That placed seemed so different compared to egghead, more lively and colourful in a way he can’t describe. He cherishes those memories no matter how hazy and unfocused they are, so seeing y/n show him the brightly coloured shells and small bits of coral really make his day. S-Shark knows he can’t go in the ocean on account of the green blood he possesses but he can’t help but wonder. Y/n occasionally clings to him in a way that feels natural, and it’s almost second nature that when this happens he lets them do so without complaint.

S-Bear even before using his ability feels pin roll off you in waves he couldn’t quite comprehend, as if your small body similar to their own could not contain the amount of emotional and physical agony, it cracks and spills from the seems of you that have been restitched and reattached like a doll. It’s scary, but somehow the most terrifying thing is that you retain a smile despite it all. It doesn’t affect you outwardly and maybe even inwardly at most times but it’s there and it lingers around you like an ever-present rain cloud about to burst into a storm. It saddens him, and it reminds him of memories of a pink haired girl he cannot place the name of. Too young to experience such heartache and at the same time her eyes are old and withered from everything that had happened. A child who acts older than their real age because they have to, not because they want to.

S-String notices that there’s a certain kind of Resigned sadness and almost a sense of hope with y/n’a eyes, yet they can never look at him fully without flinching. It confuses him, especially since despite that they treat him with such kindness even when he purposefully acts out or teases the others or them. S-String does not get as many memories compared to the others, most of which are locked away and repressed for some reason but what he does somewhat remember from his “father” is blissful moments of childhood with a boy he cannot name and y/n. This leaves him more confused, these were happy memories yet why do they look at him (and by extension his “father” with such sadness?). So at some point he asks And it’s there that S-String comes to dislike the man that made up his genetic makeup. Because for as much as the others got on his nerves sometimes S-Flamingo loved his “family”, loved his “Sister” and “Brothers” more than he’d like to admit. So hearing that the man he was cloned after harmed his family, and harmed the only person in their lives that had shown him and his siblings any sense of normalcy struck him. That man is the reason why they can’t properly look him in the eye both out of fear and a sense of failure, that man is a reason for their overwhelming pain that night even S-Bear cant comprehend, that man is the reason they broke down when they first saw him and kept apologizing for failing him. S-Stribg isn’t sure as to what happened to you and his predecessor but S-String knows you had not failed him nor his siblings, and he has a feeling you hadn’t failed Doflaimgo but rather he failed you.

S-Sand feels towards y/n a more than ordinary sense of curiosity that plagues his mind. Something he feels is a lingering emotion from his progenitor as he quietly watches and listens to you. It’s odd to him the flippant attitude towards death, something he’s pondered about as the dried out bodies of those who tried to enter egghead lay on the ground. He understands that your immortal, death isn’t much of a good deal to you yet you regard it in such a way that it bothers him. Why do you not seem to care when you tell a story of being ripped from limb to limb or left to bleed out. Surely that’s not something that was fun to experience let alone all the other instances in which you’d died via starvation on the sea or dehydration. Those things hurt, and in that regard you must be hurting all the time if not physically then mentally. Because of that like Mihawk he lingers, first due to curiosity and then out of a certain protectiveness that feel much less like programming and real. When on a mission they feel nothing, more in an empty minded state rather than truly conscious. They don’t feel fear let alone worry but for you he does, and he’s slowly seeing the others feel it too.

S-shadow just finds y/n to be cool’s ngl lol (I don’t know much about Moria so I don’t know how to write for him let alone his seraphim)

Maybe at some point y/n promises them that they’ll one day be free of orders that circulate in their heads

Free to use their wings in a real sky that’s not simulated

And maybe the Seraphim feel a spark of something at those words in their souls

The young lunarian children never thought that they had souls, had the to privilege to posses one when they were clones with no free will, remakes of others who were real people and could make decisions themselves.

But suddenly they find the words of a promise resonate within them, staying there in Suddenly full chests that should just have had it echo due to their emptiness. But the promise stays

And they silently dream of that promise

A place where they could be free

A place where they weren’t poked and prodded at

A place where they could call each other by “brother” and “sister” in full confidence

A place where they may choose their own names

A place where they could experience this idea of “family” that they often pondered about from memories not their own

A place where y/n would teach them all they’d need to know about the world before they’d one day take it by storm

A place where they’d make safe for both themselves and the person they found wanting to protect even without the orders issued by the pacifista

#determination!#platonic #one piece #one piece x reader

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rainforestakiie · 2 months ago

Text

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Devil's Night~

gosh, i'm so happy. i really love this idea. it is inspired by @things-arent-what-they-seem66's AU of adam and lilith switching places.

i know harvest is over but i have a few more things to write!

hope you all enjoy it!

part 01 - part 02

@adamsappleweek

Hell felt different now. Smoke hung heavy, thicker than usual, as though mourning in silence, and the very ground under Lucifer’s hooves pulsed with a faint, restless throb, like a wound struggling to close. He stood in solemn stillness, his back perfectly arched, hands folded over the twisted surface of his apple-wood cane, fingers tapping rhythmically as if to an unseen clock counting down something. His gaze, red and yellow like smouldering embers, fixed on the lifeless form of Adam sprawled on the darkened ground, surrounded by a shimmer of golden liquid and the soft glint of fallen feathers.

Adam lay motionless, eyes shut, lips the colour of a fading bruise. Lucifer’s throat tightened. Part of him wanted to whisper thanks to his daughter, Charlie, for guarding Adam’s body from the ravenous cannibals of the underworld, but he knew if he opened his mouth, his voice would crack, betraying him.

The silence pressed in, cold and oppressive, creeping into his bones. Hell was hot, stifling, but Lucifer felt chilled to his core—a hollow, biting emptiness that gnawed at him. His gaze remained unbroken, staring with a strange, desperate hope that this was some twisted joke. Perhaps any moment now, Adam would shift, laugh in that carefree, Edenish way of his, and sit up, as vibrant and stubborn as ever. But Adam remained still, silent, chest unmoving. An uncontrollable shiver ran through Lucifer, twisting painfully in his stomach.

He had never truly believed Adam could die. He had always assumed—no, convinced himself—that Adam would outlive them all, his spirit too relentless to surrender. And somewhere, hidden in the darkest corners of Lucifer's heart, was a naïve sliver of hope that Adam would eventually come back to him. That the bond they had once shared in Eden, a bond so profound it had nearly eclipsed the heavens themselves, would find a way to mend. They would rebuild, somehow. It would be different, yes, but they would laugh together again, walk side by side once more. Those stolen moments in Eden, when Lucifer was Adam’s guardian angel and Adam, his purpose… those memories clung to him, a bittersweet poison he couldn’t let go of.

Back then, Adam had been his everything. His duty, his joy, his reason to exist. Lucifer remembered the thrill that had sparked through him, the first time he heard the voice of God declare his purpose. He was to be Adam’s protector, his guide, his companion in that boundless garden. And he had thrown himself into that role, relished it. He had loved Adam in a way he hadn’t understood at the time. The garden had been theirs alone. No one else existed in that timeless paradise, only him and Adam, with eternity stretched out before them like a golden promise.

But then Lilith entered the garden, and everything had unravelled. He thought he had loved her, thought she understood him, saw him for who he truly was beneath the wings and heavenly light. He had let his heart slip through his fingers, foolishly entrusting her with every secret, every fractured part of himself. He had given her everything: a home, a family, the taste of power. Yet, for her, it was never enough. She wanted more, always something beyond his reach, until she had finally abandoned him and Charlie the moment something more alluring came her way. The emptiness she left was raw, a void gnawing at him even now.

He had tried to convince himself he deserved it—that he was vile, selfish, the snake of Eden. He had thought he deserved every torment she dealt him, every moment of betrayal. He had hurt Adam, and that wound, though buried, had never fully healed. He could still see Adam’s green eyes, filled with tears and betrayal, piercing through the centuries. That look had seared itself into Lucifer’s soul, a scar he tried endlessly to ignore. The first betrayal had been shattering. But there were others. With each one, he had watched something precious in Adam’s eyes die, replaced by a steely resolve, a silent ache that mirrored Lucifer’s own.

During their last battle—the one that had forever severed the fragile thread between them—Lucifer had let slip a remark about Eve. He had done it to provoke Adam, to elicit some reaction, any reaction, just to feel Adam’s gaze on him again, even if it was filled with fury. But Adam’s reaction hadn’t been what he’d expected.

That fleeting hint of betrayal in his eye—the exact shade Lucifer knew so well—had cut deeper than any physical blow could. Adam hadn’t been blind to it, hadn’t let it slide as Lucifer had hoped. The anger had transformed into something colder, something Lucifer couldn’t quite name, but it lingered, long after they parted.

Now, standing here, watching Adam’s motionless form, Lucifer felt the full weight of those mistakes crashing over him, a tidal wave of remorse he could no longer fend off. Every unspoken word, every fractured promise, every fleeting glance they had shared in Eden came flooding back to him with agonizing clarity. The irony was sharp—Adam, his purpose, his only joy, lay gone, and Lucifer was left adrift, lost in a void he had fashioned for himself. The garden, their laughter, their whispered secrets beneath the endless, star-strewn sky… all of it had turned to ash, leaving Lucifer alone with nothing but the ghosts of memories that would never fade, haunting him like shadows he could never escape.

Lucifer clenched his eyes shut, the whispers of memories swelling in his mind, pressing into the silence until they filled the air around him. He could hear it all—every laugh, every teasing remark, every stolen moment under Eden’s endless skies. The phantom echoes of their laughter rang through his ears, so vivid it felt as if Adam were right there beside him again, as though any second he’d feel Adam’s hand slap his back or hear him call his name with that familiar, playful lilt. He could almost smell the dewy grass and the scent of fresh, untainted earth that had once been their playground, their sanctuary.

They had been so close, he and Adam, so tightly bound by a friendship that felt eternal, unbreakable. Lucifer’s heart had belonged entirely to Adam in those days, every bit of him dedicated to his charge, to his purpose. Adam had been his light, his reason to be, his only true companion in the vast, bewildering beauty of the garden. And yet, Lucifer had lost it all, torn it apart with his own hands, with his own selfish heart. He’d destroyed something precious, something he thought could never be lost. He’d always believed they’d somehow find their way back to each other. That one day, Adam would look at him with those green eyes, softened with forgiveness, and they’d be… something again. Friends, perhaps. Or more.

A soft, broken sniff escaped him, and he forced his eyes open, the agony tightening in his chest as his gaze fell once more on Adam’s still, lifeless body. His sharp teeth clenched as his hooves trembled beneath him. He took a faltering step forward, his legs weak, as if the weight of centuries was pressing down on them, the memories and regrets dragging him down. His knees felt brittle, ready to buckle as he moved closer. His eyes burned, a stinging heat prickling at them, growing worse with each step until he found himself standing directly over Adam’s body. He looked down, his chest tight, his breath ragged, hardly daring to believe this was real.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice barely a rasp, clinging to some thread of hope that seemed to slip further from his grasp. His gaze was fixated on Adam’s chest, willing it to rise, to betray some hidden breath.

“Hey, oi… this isn’t funny.” His claws tightened around the apple-wood cane, his knuckles whitening, desperate to ground himself against the unrelenting horror of the truth. “Adam, this isn’t funny. Stop… stop playing around.”

His voice cracked, shaky and hollow. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as he searched Adam’s face for any sign of movement, any flicker of those warm, golden eyes. But Adam remained still, lips tinted blue, his skin pallid under the dim, smoky light. Lucifer’s hands trembled, and with a sharp intake of breath, he dropped to his knees, his cane clattering to the ground beside him.

“Please…”

The word slipped out, soft and broken, barely a whisper. He reached out a trembling hand, his fingers brushing against the cold skin of Adam’s cheek. The chill bit into him, a harsh, unyielding reminder that this wasn’t a nightmare he could wake from. He closed his eyes again, unable to bear the sight of Adam like this, and the memories surged back once more, flooding him with bittersweet echoes.

“Do you remember, Adam?” he murmured, voice barely holding together, his hand resting gently against Adam’s cheek. “Do you remember… the nights we’d talk until the stars began to fade? When we’d chase each other through the trees, laughing like nothing else in all creation mattered?”

His voice wavered, choked by the memories, by the weight of a love he’d buried so deeply he’d almost forgotten how much it hurt.

The memories of Eden shimmered behind his eyes—memories of Adam grinning, his face lit up with that carefree, boyish charm that Lucifer had adored. Memories of Adam leaning on him, both talking under the vastness of the heavens, lost in their own world, a world they had once believed would never end.

But it had ended. He’d been the one to end it.

And now, here he was, left alone with nothing but his regrets and the fading whispers of a love that could never be repaired. His shoulders sagged as he leaned closer, his forehead almost touching Adam’s. He spoke again, his voice barely more than a breath, as though he feared the silence would shatter beneath the weight of his words.

“Adam, I’m sorry,” he whispered, the confession torn from him like a piece of his soul. “I’m so… sorry.”

But Adam remained silent, cold, unyielding, and for the first time, Lucifer understood the full extent of his loss, the emptiness that would haunt him for eternity. His hand slipped from Adam’s cheek, his head bowing as the first, silent tear fell.

Lucifer shuffled closer on his knees, inch by inch, his face warming with a painful flush as his eyes misted over.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked, voice quivering as he leaned over Adam’s body.

His fingers trembling as they reached out, brushing just the edge of the bloodstained fabric. He wanted to touch Adam’s hand, to feel that familiar warmth once more, but he couldn’t bring himself to close the distance. His breath hitched, his hands hovering, shaking, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

“I was supposed to be your guardian, Adam,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath. “I was made for you… to protect you, to be whatever you needed, whatever you deserved.”

He swallowed, his chest tight as the words clawed their way out, raw and unfiltered. “But I failed you. I failed you in ways I can’t even… can’t even justify.”

His fingers trailed across Adam’s robe, tracing the familiar folds, the dark stains of blood, each one a reminder of how far they’d fallen from what they once were.

He took a shaky breath, his mind dragging him back to the painful memories, to Lilith.

“She was… God, she was everything to me then,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I thought… I thought I loved her. I thought she saw me in a way no one else ever had. I thought she understood me. She was fierce, and powerful, and beautiful, and I thought—”

His voice broke, and he looked down, the shame tightening like a vice around his heart. “I thought she would stay. I thought… I thought she wanted me, that she wanted what we could build together. I cut off my own wings for her, gave up everything I had, my power, my place in heaven. And then, at the first chance she got, she left. Left me and Charlie as if we were nothing.”

He let out a bitter laugh, empty and hollow. “But maybe… maybe I deserved it. I had it coming, didn’t I? For what I did to you.”

His gaze flickered to Adam’s face, hoping desperately to see a flicker of forgiveness, but Adam remained still, cold and lifeless. Lucifer clenched his teeth, forcing himself to keep going, to lay everything bare before him.

“You saw us, didn’t you?” he whispered. “Back in Eden. You saw Lilith and me… together. And I knew. I knew it wasn’t fair to you, that you didn’t understand. You didn’t deserve that, Adam. You didn’t deserve to be hurt like that, to be left alone, wondering what happened to me, wondering why everything changed.”

He looked away, ashamed. “And I can’t explain myself. I wish I could. I want to, but… I don’t know what happened. I was so… blinded. I couldn’t see you, couldn’t see what was right in front of me. I was too wrapped up in her, in what I thought I felt for her.”

His voice dropped to a whisper; his words laced with regret. “But before Lilith, it was always you. It was always you, Adam. I was so… so sure I loved you, I just didn’t know it then. I loved every moment we spent together. I would have done anything for you, anything to make you happy. And then Lilith appeared, and it was like… I lost sight of everything, even myself. And I’m so sorry, Adam. I’m so sorry for hurting you like that. I can’t… I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

His breath came faster, his heart racing as he leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching Adam’s.

“Please,” he gasped, desperation bleeding into his voice. “Please believe me, Adam… please, just believe me.”

But Adam didn’t move. His chest remained still, his lips unmoving, his eyes closed. Adam was gone, lost to him forever, and there was no forgiveness left to give.

And the truth was, it didn’t end there. He knew that. It had only gotten worse. With every betrayal, every hurtful word, he had crushed any possibility of Adam ever forgiving him. The garden’s peace had been shattered the day he offered Eve the apple of knowledge, sealing their fates, twisting their lives in ways they could never repair. And… he’d done worse, so much worse. Seducing Eve, leading her astray beneath the same tree where he and Lilith had once been together—it was a cruelty he couldn’t justify, a cruelty he could barely comprehend. God, what had he been thinking? What kind of twisted satisfaction had he found in that, in taking from Adam everything that mattered?

He had shattered Adam’s life piece by piece, and yet, even then, Adam had been forced to face him time and time again. When Heaven and Hell would meet, when Sera dragged Adam into those dreadful meetings, he’d seen the reluctance, the pain in Adam’s eyes, how he didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to face either him or Lilith. But he had no choice. And Lucifer… he hadn’t been kind. Neither he nor Lilith had shown him an ounce of mercy. They had ridiculed him, humiliated him, found twisted joy in watching him squirm, powerless and betrayed. And why? Why had he been so cruel? What purpose had it served?

He looked down, his heart aching as he remembered those meetings, the way Adam had silently endured every word, every insult, sitting there, taking it, never once fighting back. Adam had suffered, and Lucifer had watched, almost revelling in it, as if punishing Adam would somehow heal the cracks in his own broken heart. As if hurting Adam could numb his own pain. But he had only hurt himself in the end, lost the one person who had ever mattered to him.

And when the Extermination finally came, when the heavens unleashed their wrath, Lucifer had known, deep down, that they deserved it. Every drop of blood, every scream, every life lost—he and Lilith had brought it upon themselves. They had forced Adam’s hand, driven him to the breaking point. And now, here he was, kneeling in front of Adam’s lifeless form, begging for forgiveness that would never come.

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to Adam’s cold chest, his voice barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his words broken and raw. “I’m so sorry… I’m so… so sorry…”

And there, in the quiet, he finally allowed himself to cry, his tears falling like ashes, a silent lament for the life he had destroyed, for the love he had lost forever.

With trembling hands, Lucifer finally reached out, his fingers brushing over Adam’s chest, desperate to feel any sign of life, any hint of warmth. But there was nothing. No steady drum of a heartbeat, no soft rise and fall of breath. Just silence, a vast and hollow silence that ripped through him like a jagged blade.

His eyes widened, hot tears spilling down his cheeks as memories surged to the surface. In Eden, he had often rested his head against Adam’s chest, lulled by the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. It had been one of his favourite things, to lie there and listen to that soft, steady pulse. It had felt like… like home. It had felt like safety, like something real and lasting. He had loved it, loved Adam, loved him more than he had ever been able to admit.

But now—now there was nothing. Just silence.

Lucifer's throat tightened as he leaned down, pressing his face against Adam’s chest, willing the warmth back, willing that familiar heartbeat to start up again. He held his breath, straining his ears, hoping, begging for the faintest thump of life. Just one beat, one inhale, anything. But there was nothing. Nothing.

Nothing.

A sob wrenched from his throat, harsh and broken, as the realization finally crashed over him, too powerful to deny. Adam was gone. Truly gone. There would be no laughter, no teasing words, no forgiveness. The connection he had always felt with Adam, that subtle warmth in the back of his mind that told him Adam was alive, was… gone. Severed, leaving only an aching, freezing emptiness in its place. For the first time in eons, Lucifer felt truly, utterly alone.

He clutched at Adam’s robes, his claws slicing through the fabric as he buried his face deeper into Adam’s chest, his sobs tearing through him, raw and desperate.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a broken breath. “Please… please come back. Adam, please… I’m begging you. Just… just come back.”

But Adam lay silent, unmoving, his body a hollow shell. His soul, the vibrant light that had filled Lucifer’s darkest moments with hope, with warmth, was gone. Lost to him forever.

Lucifer clutched harder, his claws rending the cloth, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Addie,” he choked out, the nickname slipping from his lips as if by instinct, a final, broken plea to the friend he had loved and failed. “I’m so… so sorry.”

He lay there, crushed beneath the weight of his own grief, pressing his face into Adam’s chest as if he could somehow force life back into him, as if he could somehow undo all the harm he had done. But the silence was deafening, a cruel, unyielding reminder that it was too late. Adam was gone, and no amount of sorrow, no amount of regret could bring him back.

Lucifer’s cries echoed through the barren, smoking expanse of Hell, raw and unrestrained, like a wound torn open, bleeding out all the pain and love he had carried for so long, hidden even from himself. And for the first time, Lucifer understood the full measure of his loss. There would be no redemption, no second chance. The love he had been too proud, too blind to claim was gone, leaving him hollow, shattered in a way that no amount of time could heal.

And there, alone in the endless silence, Lucifer wept, clutching Adam’s lifeless form as if he could somehow hold onto him, even as everything he had ever loved slipped through his fingers, leaving nothing but an aching void where his heart had once been.

Lucifer’s body was numb, every muscle trembling and strained as he finally stepped back from Adam’s grave. Beneath the smoky sky of Hell, in his hidden garden—a small oasis of fragile memories and forbidden nostalgia—Adam now rested. The garden had been Lucifer’s sanctuary, his one secret, private place built from the remnants of Eden that still clung to his soul. It was his slice of paradise in the darkness, a testament to the life and love he’d lost. Lilith had scoffed at it, her distaste a constant reminder of their fractured souls and desires, but he had never let go. The garden had been everything to him.

Slowly, Lucifer lowered himself to his knees, his hand hovering over the freshly turned earth. His claws brushed the soil, and as his fingers spread, a stream of red carnations and roses bloomed from the earth, unfurling over Adam’s grave like blood-red whispers. The blossoms curled around his fingers, soft and warm, almost as if they carried Adam’s presence.

"I’m so sorry, Addie,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, hoarse from days of weeping. He traced the petals with delicate care, caressing the earth as though it were Adam himself. “I wish things had been different. I wish I’d known… I wish I’d understood what you truly meant to me back in Eden.”

Lucifer’s voice cracked, and he closed his eyes, the weight of his regret pressing down like an ocean. He had always thought he had time, always thought he could mend things one day, that somehow, he could make Adam see the love he had hidden, buried deep under pride and mistakes. But there was no longer time—just this garden and a grave he had made for the only one who had ever really understood him.

“I turned you into something you weren’t,” he continued, his tears flowing freely. “You were gentle… so full of life. That angel who became a soldier, who destroyed so much—he wasn’t you. He was my shadow, my mistake. You deserved so much better.”

He wiped a tear away, though more kept coming, unbidden. “I wish I could have made you happy.”

He struggled to his hooves, his body exhausted, but as he rose, a glint of gold caught his eye. He paused, his heart lurching painfully. A golden feather lay on the ground, dusted with earth yet still gleaming faintly in the dimness. He bent down and picked it up with reverent fingers, holding it to his chest as his vision blurred with fresh tears. Adam’s feathers had always captivated him, their radiance beyond anything he had seen. They had been perfect, beautiful… like Adam himself.

With a shaking breath, Lucifer held the feather close, pressing it against his heart as though it could fill the empty void that Adam’s loss had left behind.

“I love you, Addie,” he whispered to the flowers, to the silence, to the golden thread of memory still tethered to his heart. “I know you never believed me… but I did. I do. Even if I ruined everything, even if I hurt you. I love you.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he bowed his head, clutching the feather as if it were his lifeline. He had made terrible, unforgivable choices—choices that had cost him Eden, that had shattered whatever Adam, and he had once shared. And now he was alone, doomed to live in a Hell he could never escape.

A quiet, desperate plea escaped his lips, broken and raw. “I wish… I wish I could die too. To be anywhere but here, to be free… but Hell won’t let me go.”

Lucifer’s shoulders slumped, weighed down by endless despair, and he closed his eyes, cradling the feather as though it were Adam himself. He cast one last lingering look at the grave before he disappeared in a shuddering burst of golden flame.

He reappeared in his chambers, the cold and darkness pressing in on him as he sank down onto his bed. Around him, rubber ducks filled the room in bright, absurd little heaps, mocking him with their silly smiles. They were his only companions now, his only solace. Adam was gone. There was no one left.

Lucifer crawled into the pile, uncaring as the ducks scattered and tumbled around him, and clutched Adam’s feather to his face, breathing in its faint, lingering scent. He curled up tightly, his wings folded around him as he nestled into the feather, as if trying to burrow into the memory of the man he had lost.

In the silence, he closed his eyes, willing the pain to ebb, but it only sharpened, growing more intense as he nuzzled the feather, desperate for any remaining trace of Adam. He lay there, alone, his broken heart bleeding into the darkness, haunted by the love he had lost and the choices he could never undo.

Lucifer’s eyes felt gritty, his head pounding as he slowly stirred from a cold, fitful sleep. The darkness seemed alive, pressing in on him like a weight, filling his chest with a pain that twisted and grew until he whimpered, his claws clutching at the thick blankets tangled around him. As he drifted into sleep, his mind unravelled into strange, painful visions—memories and dreams stitched together into a haunting tapestry.

He saw Adam, standing in Eden’s sunlight, looking as he had in the earliest days—soft, serene, his golden wings shining as he laughed, his warm gaze fixed on Lucifer. Lucifer reached out, heart swelling with a desperate need to close the distance, to be with Adam again in their paradise. He stumbled forward, calling out promises he’d failed to keep, promises to do better, to be better for Adam. But Adam only stood there, smiling that same distant, heartbreaking smile, as though Lucifer’s words were a faint echo.

The harder Lucifer tried to reach him, the further Adam seemed to drift, like a mirage on the edge of his vision. Lucifer’s six wings beat furiously as he tried to fly, but the space between them widened, and his strength faltered. He stumbled, his robes—once pure and pristine—dragging him down as he fell to the earth. Mud splattered over him, and when he looked down, he saw his hooves—his demonic, twisted form reflecting back at him. One of his eyes had turned red, dark and unholy, a cruel reminder of what he had become.

Adam stood there, golden and radiant, watching him with unreadable eyes before turning, his wings folding as he started to walk away.

“Wait,” Lucifer gasped, his voice raw, clawing at the earth to pull himself forward. “Please, Addie, wait! Don’t leave me!”

But Adam only grew smaller, his image fading until there was nothing but a memory slipping away like sand through his fingers. Lucifer screamed into the darkness, his voice breaking with grief.

With a strangled gasp, he jolted awake, heart pounding as he sat up, clutching his chest. His chamber was dim and quiet, the dark blankets draping over him like the weight of his despair. His skin felt clammy and wrong, as though he were covered in a thin layer of despair he couldn’t shake. Curling forward, he hugged his knees, his claws digging into the quilt as choked sobs slipped from his lips. The pain of loss, of loneliness, stabbed into him like shards of ice.

Suddenly, a gentle, almost ethereal touch grazed his shoulder, soft and warm. Lucifer froze, his body going rigid as a familiar voice broke the silence, filled with tenderness.

“Luci… did you have a nightmare?”

He dared not breathe. His pulse roared in his ears as he slowly turned, his gaze locking onto a pair of golden eyes—soft, kind, impossibly familiar. For a moment, he could only stare, feeling as if he’d slipped into yet another dream. The face before him, full of compassion and warmth, was one he’d thought lost forever.

“A-Adam?” he stammered, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes grew wide, disbelief painting every line of his face.

Adam looked at him with gentle concern, his golden eyes glowing faintly. “Hey, Luci… you look pale. Are you alright?”

He raised a hand to touch Lucifer’s face, but Lucifer jerked back, as if burned. His heart raced, his mind reeling as he scrambled backward, his gaze darting around the room.

He blinked, noticing that the cramped piles of rubber ducks—his bizarre, lonely treasures—were gone. In their place were shelves filled with carefully arranged, exquisite little ducks, each displayed with precision and care. His chamber seemed larger, familiar yet somehow transformed, warmer.

"Luci?" Adam’s voice brought him back, and Lucifer turned to see Adam still sitting there, his eyes filled with a soft, steady patience. He was so close, so real—Lucifer could almost feel the warmth radiating from him. Adam poked his cheek playfully, brows knitting in confusion.

“Are you alright? Did you hit your head?”

Lucifer’s breath caught. He stared at Adam, searching his gaze for some sign, some confirmation of what he was seeing.

“What… what’s going on?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Why are you… why are you here? Why are you in my bed?”

Adam chuckled softly, his expression as open and pure as it had been in Eden. “Luci, how hard did you hit your head?”

He reached out, his hand brushing Lucifer’s hair with a tenderness that made Lucifer’s heart ache.

Lucifer swallowed, his mind racing. This couldn’t be real—it was impossible. But as he looked into Adam’s golden eyes, feeling the soft warmth of his touch, he felt something long dead flicker within him, fragile and terrified of breaking.

“Addie…” he breathed, reaching out, his fingers hovering just inches from Adam’s cheek, too afraid to touch. The reality of Adam’s warmth, his nearness, felt like a forbidden dream. "Is it… really you?"

Adam smiled softly, the warmth of his presence settling around them both like a balm. "It’s me, Luci. I’m here.”

Lucifer’s heart skipped, his chest tightening with an emotion he hadn’t felt in eons. The ache that had haunted him for so long began to soften, the darkness retreating just enough to let in a flicker of hope.

Lucifer’s body surged forward with a frantic energy, scrambling onto the bed with a clumsy urgency. His usually pristine golden hair was a dishevelled mess, wild locks sticking out as if echoing the storm of emotions within him. Reaching for Adam’s hands, Lucifer clasped them tightly, his fingers trembling. He let out a shaky, half-choked laugh that dissolved into a sound halfway between wonder and despair.

“You’re… you’re alive! Addie, you’re alive,” he whispered, his voice thick with disbelief, each word a shuddering breath as though speaking might shatter the fragile reality before him. His heart, long numbed by guilt and despair, throbbed now with a vulnerable intensity.

Adam’s golden eyes, warm yet puzzled, met his with a quiet concern, his gentle gaze unchanging, almost cautious. But Lucifer couldn’t stop. Words spilled from him like a dam bursting, rushing forward in an almost feverish cascade.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so—so sorry. Please, forgive me. For everything I did, everything I didn’t do. I never wanted to hurt you; I just… I just wanted us to be close again. I ruined it all, Addie. I don’t deserve—”

His voice cracked, the words piling up, unable to keep pace with the grief he’d buried so deep.

As Lucifer leaned forward, trying to draw closer to Adam, he suddenly stopped, his chest jolting as something solid pressed against him, keeping him just out of reach. His brows furrowed in confusion, and he glanced down, seeing the curve of the blankets bulging slightly, pressed firm against his stomach. Whatever was hidden beneath them felt solid, almost weighty, and he instinctively reached to pull the covers back, baffled.

Adam giggled softly, a rosy blush colouring his cheeks. “I think I’ve gotten… bigger,” he murmured, an air of shy humour in his voice.

Lucifer blinked, his gaze darting from Adam’s face back down to the mysterious curve beneath the covers. It was then he noticed how strikingly different Adam looked: healthier, more radiant, his cheeks free of the hollow shadows and weariness Lucifer remembered. Adam’s skin seemed to almost glow, and atop his head were two delicate horns, a soft shade of blue that stirred memories of his own former self, back before the fall.

Adam fidgeted slightly, his expression shifting to one of slight embarrassment.

“You don’t think I’m… fat, do you?” he asked, eyes dropping self-consciously, though they glimmered with a touch of humour.

Fat? Lucifer thought, dazed. He remembered a time he’d teased Adam about putting on weight, but now his throat tightened with remorse. Shaking his head, he murmured, “No, Addie. You’re not… you’re not fat. You’re beautiful, like always.”

He leaned forward, but again that mysterious object kept them apart. Growing impatient, Lucifer carefully drew back the quilt, eyes widening as the reality settled over him.

The rounded swell of Adam’s stomach was unmistakable, pressing against the soft blue fabric of his shirt. It wasn’t the softness of excess but rather a firm, natural curve—like a promise, a secret harbouring a fragile new life. Lucifer’s mouth dropped open as he stared in shock.

“You’re… you’re pregnant,” he whispered, a high, incredulous pitch to his voice, awe and disbelief mingling in his words. “How—how did this happen?”

Adam laughed, a soft, musical sound that seemed to fill the room with warmth. His cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, and he reached down, placing a gentle hand over the curve of his stomach.

“I think you know exactly how, Luci,” he teased, voice tender, but with a knowing light in his eyes. “Six months ago… don’t you remember? It was after our anniversary.”

Anniversary? What did that even mean?

Lucifer’s mind spun, the ancient gears in his head struggling to find traction. His brow furrowed as he tried to grasp Adam’s words, though they slipped through his understanding like sand. The weight of confusion pressed on him as he blinked furiously, shifting his gaze to steady himself, to ground himself in Adam's presence.

"It was just after our 300th anniversary," Adam murmured softly, a warm hum that filled the room. He wore a gentle, almost shy smile as he glanced down at the small but unmistakable swell of his belly. "It was… a bit of a surprise. Neither of us expected it—not after Charlie. But we’re happy, aren’t we?”

Adam’s gaze lifted, and Lucifer caught the flicker of vulnerability there, the unspoken fear that nestled in his husband’s eyes. The usually composed Adam looked almost… fragile.

His voice quivered, softer now, as he asked, “You’re still happy, aren’t you, Luci? About the baby?”

Adam’s hand drifted protectively to his stomach, his brow creased with worry. “You… you haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

Lucifer’s throat tightened. The question held weight—no, not weight. A gravity. He didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he could see how much it mattered to Adam. Whatever was going on, he would figure it out. Somehow. Later.

"Of course, I’m happy!" he said, his voice cracking slightly, and he winced at the sound of it. Still, he moved closer to Adam, his hand instinctively reaching out to rest on his shoulder. He let his fingers slide to Adam’s stomach, his touch cautious, reverent. “I’m… I’m so very happy about… our baby.”

Adam released a slow breath, his tension ebbing away. He leaned into Lucifer, who quickly wrapped his arms around him, supporting him as though he were cradling the most delicate treasure. For a moment, Lucifer felt unsure, but Adam's warmth, his trust, softened something deep within him.

"I love you, Luci," Adam whispered, his voice thick with sleep and sweet with affection. His eyelids fluttered, and he yawned softly, pressing closer to Lucifer. "I’m so happy we… fell together.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened. Fell together. The words struck him as if he were hearing them for the first time. He took in their room—a chamber he knew well, yet tonight it was somehow transformed, bathed in a serene, tender shade of blue. Every edge of the room softened, a haven unlike any place he'd ever known.

"Luci…" Adam murmured, tugging him down toward the bed. "I’m tired. Let’s go back to sleep.”

Lucifer nodded slowly, lowering himself beside Adam. His gaze stayed glued to his face, mesmerized by the peaceful smile that lingered on Adam’s lips, the faint glow of pure contentment that radiated from him.

“I love you, Luci,” Adam whispered, eyes finally closing, his breathing slowing as he drifted into sleep.

Lucifer swallowed, the words catching in his throat as he reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he gently stroked his hand along Adam's arm. "I… I love you too," he whispered, his voice fragile yet earnest.

Adam sighed softly in his sleep, and as Lucifer held him close, he felt something blossom inside him—something ancient, eternal, but also achingly new. An inexplicable longing settled over him, as if he were relearning the meaning of love in the warmth of Adam’s steady breaths, the rise and fall of his chest.

ucifer lay still beside Adam, watching his husband slumber, mesmerized by the soft rise and fall of his chest, the faint smile lingering on his lips even in sleep. Lucifer didn’t know how long he lay there, simply unable to look away. He couldn't. Not when, in the life he remembered, he had just been kneeling by Adam's corpse, his face drenched in tears. What was going on? Adam had died… hadn’t he? Lucifer had buried him, laid him to rest in the heart of Eden, his most cherished garden, a place he had never allowed anyone else.

Carefully, Lucifer slipped from the bed, ensuring he didn’t disturb Adam. He swung his legs to the floor, glancing down and feeling the faintest flicker of surprise. He was shirtless, and instead of his usual dark pajamas, he wore an unexpected pair of bright, duck-themed boxers. They were… adorable? He squinted, not recognizing them at all.

He padded softly across the room, his hooves sinking into the plush carpet that covered the floor. This, too, was new—a rich, comforting shade that he’d never seen before in his chamber. His gaze drifted to the walls, noticing how they were no longer draped in the austere, heavy tapestries he remembered. Instead, they were painted in soothing colors, warm and soft, lending the room a sense of calm he hadn’t known he craved. Lucifer frowned, his chest tightening, feeling both out of place and strangely at home.

His eyes caught on a golden-framed portrait on the wall. He knew this painting well—or at least he thought he did. The original painting had been a bittersweet reminder of his life with Lilith and their young daughter, Charlie, back when she was just a toddler. A painful relic. But as he approached, he realized this was… different.

Adam stood beside him in the painting, taking Lilith’s place. His face radiated joy, his arm around their daughter. And Charlie—her hair wasn’t the familiar gold from his memories but a soft hazel, like Adam’s. Lucifer’s heart skipped a beat, his pulse thundering in his chest as he stared at this family that, impossibly, seemed his own.

He tore his gaze away and slipped out of the chamber, the quiet of the corridor wrapping around him like a gentle mist. As he wandered through the halls, he noticed more and more differences. The cold, intimidating decor Lilith had favored was gone, replaced by something warmer, softer, and infinitely more welcoming. The walls, once adorned with shadowy tapestries and harsh colors, now bore gentle hues, punctuated by warm lights that cast a peaceful glow along the polished floors. Lucifer felt his chest tighten, an ache he couldn’t quite name blooming within him. The more he saw, the more he found himself… liking it. It was a home, not just a fortress.

Eventually, Lucifer found himself at the door of his office—the room where he’d spent countless hours handling his duties as King of Hell. He reached out, grasping the door handle, and pushed it open. The moment he stepped inside, he froze. His office, once chaotic and piled high with endless, neglected paperwork, was now spotless. Everything was in perfect order, from the neatly stacked files to the immaculate desk. His neglected paperwork—months, no, years of backlogged duties he’d ignored in his grief—was nowhere to be seen.

His eyes drifted to a shelf by the window. A collection of small, duck figurines, each carefully placed inside a glass box, caught his eye. They looked rare and almost precious, and as Lucifer studied them, he felt an unfamiliar sense of warmth, almost amusement, stirring within him. There was something endearing, something so distinctly Adam about their presence here.

Slowly, Lucifer moved to his desk, trailing his clawed fingers along its smooth surface before picking up a small picture frame. He lowered himself into his plush chair, his eyes fixed on the photo. In the picture, he was cuddling up to Adam, who was visibly pregnant, his belly round and full. Adam looked radiant, though there was a hint of tiredness, even fragility, in his face. But they both looked… happy. So happy it made Lucifer’s chest ache.

He set the frame down carefully, his gaze flicking around the office once more. Books he recognized lined the shelves, yet they seemed to have been meticulously organized and, shockingly, read. The daunting pile of work he had once allowed to fester was not only done but years ahead. How… had that happened? He swallowed, feeling an odd mixture of awe and unease.

Standing up, he left the office and drifted back into the corridor. His eyes caught on more paintings adorning the walls—scenes of a life he had never lived, and yet somehow they felt achingly familiar. One painting showed him standing beside Adam, each with an arm around Charlie, who was beaming with happiness, her red and yellow eyes bright with love. Another showed them all on a picnic under a willow tree, Charlie tugging at Lucifer’s hand as she laughed. There was one where a teenage Charlie, looking every bit like her mother, was rolling her eyes at Lucifer, though her mouth held a small, affectionate smile.

Lucifer’s steps slowed as he studied each painting, heart thudding as he took in the thousands of moments they depicted. They painted a life he had never dared to dream—a life where he had fallen not with Lilith, but with Adam, a life where they had been damned together and yet had somehow found a way to build a family, a future, a love that shone even here, in Hell. In this life, he had watched Charlie grow, had raised her with Adam by his side, had been part of her life even in her teenage years, when she’d likely rebelled against them both. And she looked so… happy. Every image radiated the joy she’d shared with them, a warmth that lingered in her gaze, a trust and love she had for her parents.

In his own life, there had been no paintings of those years. No laughter, no memories captured of a teenage Charlie by his side. He had lost her trust, had watched her pull away, leaving him with only the shadow of what might have been.

But here… here she was, smiling. Bright-eyed. Free.

Lucifer's breath hitched, a wave of raw emotion rising within him, fierce and unfamiliar. He reached out, fingers grazing the frame of a painting where they all stood together, a family complete, unbroken by the pain that had shadowed his own life.

How was any of this possible? Had he been given another chance, a glimpse into what he could have had? Or was this some cruel illusion, designed to haunt him? As he stood in the corridor, surrounded by memories of a love and a family he had never truly known, he realized that he didn’t care whether this was real or not. This life, these moments—it was a world he wanted to live in. A world where he was loved and had chosen love in return.

He inhaled slowly, his gaze lingering on one last painting—one where he and Adam were dancing, eyes locked, laughter spilling from their lips. In that moment, Lucifer vowed that, however this had happened, he would not let this world slip away. Not again.

Lucifer returned to his chamber, standing outside the heavy doors as he drew a deep breath, his heart pounding wildly at the thought of what awaited him within. He reached out, his hands trembling slightly, and pushed the door open, slipping quietly inside. His hooves felt strangely unsteady, and his fingers twitched at his sides as he approached the enormous, inviting bed.

There, nestled in the tangle of blankets and quilts, was Adam, still fast asleep. The sight made Lucifer pause. Adam looked so peaceful, his expression soft and untroubled as he burrowed further into the cozy warmth of the bed. It was endearing, seeing him like this, utterly relaxed. Lucifer felt a pang of something sweet and gentle, something he hadn’t felt in far too long.

Adam looked… perfect, like he belonged here, like he had always belonged in Lucifer’s bed, in his life.

Swallowing the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm him, Lucifer reached down, gently pinching the corner of the blankets, lifting them, and sliding himself under. He moved slowly, carefully, until he was right beside Adam. Close enough to feel his warmth, to catch the faint scent of him. And then, with a trembling hand, he reached out, brushing his fingers against Adam’s cheek. The skin was soft, warm, alive.

He’s really here.

He could feel the gentle heat radiating from Adam, the slow rise and fall of his chest, each breath a quiet reminder that Adam was, impossibly, still with him. And as he lay there, watching, he heard something else—a soft, sleepy hum, an occasional quiet laugh, as though Adam were lost in a pleasant dream.

Lucifer’s heart fluttered, a warmth spreading through him. He realized he was smiling, his own breath catching in his chest as he whispered, “I want to see more.”

He inched closer, and as he did, Adam shifted, instinctively snuggling into him, pressing against him with the innocent trust of someone who felt safe, completely at ease. Lucifer’s heart swelled, and he couldn’t resist the urge to nuzzle into Adam’s hair, letting its softness tickle his face, breathing in his scent.

“I want to see more, Addie,” he murmured, his voice low and full of wonder. “I want to see more, Addie. I want to see what else is different.”

He let his fingers trail gently through Adam's hair, the silky strands slipping through his claws as he breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of him. It was an intimacy he’d never quite allowed himself before, a closeness he hadn’t known he craved until now. He nuzzled his face into Adam's hair, letting the warmth settle into his bones as he wrapped his arms around Adam, holding him like a lifeline.

“I want to see how our lives have changed… together,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, but the words felt monumental, a promise spoken into the quiet stillness of the room.

As he lay there, breathing in sync with Adam, Lucifer felt the exhaustion of countless lifetimes begin to ebb away, replaced by a warmth that wrapped around him like a blanket. A life like this… it was something he’d never allowed himself to even imagine, but now, in this quiet moment, it felt possible. Real. His eyelids grew heavy, and his breathing slowed, matching Adam’s as he drifted closer to sleep, nestled against the man who had always been his tether.

Just before sleep took him, a thought drifted through his mind—a wish, a quiet yearning, Please… let this be real.

And as he surrendered to slumber, Lucifer felt the unfamiliar but deeply welcome sensation of feeling safe, cocooned in a warmth that he wanted to last forever.

When Lucifer awoke, his whole body felt uncommonly… good. There was no lingering ache, no dull exhaustion pressing on his bones, and the familiar cold pang that usually twisted in his chest was… gone. He shifted within the warm embrace of the blankets, savoring the comfort of the bed. A soft, contented yawn escaped him as he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, taking in the hazy morning light filtering into the room. He blinked a few times, rubbing his face with one hand, feeling well-rested in a way he hadn’t known in what felt like ages.

But then he noticed something amiss—his side felt unusually cold, the spot beside him vacant. Lucifer frowned and rolled onto his side, sliding his hand across the sheets in search of the warmth he expected to find there. Only emptiness met his touch.

His heart leapt into his throat, panic flaring in his chest as he scrambled upright. The sheets tangled around his legs, and before he could steady himself, he stumbled, crashing to the floor in a tangle of quilts and limbs. He winced as his chin hit the ground, but the urgency pulsing within him was far too strong to let that stop him. Ignoring the faint ache, he quickly scrambled to his hooves, his gaze darting around the chamber, anxiety tightening in his chest.

The room was just as it had been last night—spotlessly tidy, softly inviting, as if crafted to hold a sense of peace he’d longed for but never believed he could have. Yet something was wrong.

Where was Adam?

Just as he was about to rush out the door in a desperate search, it swung open, and there stood Adam, looking somewhat startled as he took in the sight of Lucifer, wide-eyed and slightly dishevelled, in the middle of the room. Adam’s golden eyes flickered over the mess Lucifer had made in his hurried rise from bed. He blinked, then met Lucifer's gaze with a concerned, puzzled expression.

“Um… a-are you okay?” Adam asked softly, his brow furrowing as he took in the room and then settled his eyes back on Lucifer.

Without hesitation, Lucifer crossed the room, grasping Adam’s hands as if afraid he might vanish if he didn’t hold on tight. “Where were you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with relief yet tinged with the lingering panic that had clawed at him moments before.

A sheepish smile curled across Adam’s lips. “I had to… you know, pee.”

He gestured toward his round belly, and the explanation clicked into place in Lucifer’s mind. Oh. Of course. That made perfect sense. Lucifer’s face flushed, and he released a small, embarrassed whine, his head dipping as he let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice softened with self-consciousness. “I woke up, and you were gone, and I just… I thought…”

Adam reached up, his hand gentle as he cupped Lucifer’s chin and tilted his face up to meet his gaze. The warmth in Adam’s golden eyes melted away any lingering fear, the softness of his expression like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. He smiled, a soft, loving curve of his lips that made Lucifer’s heart skip a beat.

“I’m fine,” Adam reassured him, his voice gentle and soothing. “I’m not sick or anything. You’ve got to stop worrying so much.”

Lucifer trembled under that affectionate gaze, his own heart beating so fiercely he was sure Adam could feel it through his hands. Then, without warning, Adam leaned in, his lips brushing over Lucifer’s in a brief, feather-light kiss that sent shockwaves through Lucifer’s entire being. Adam’s lips were warm, softer than he’d imagined, and the brief press of them against his left him frozen, every thought scattering like dust on the wind.

When Adam pulled away, Lucifer’s face burned crimson, his mind still reeling. He’d just had his first kiss with Adam—a kiss he had never dared dream would happen. It was perfect, in every way he’d never imagined it could be.

“I love you,” Adam murmured, his hands giving Lucifer’s a gentle squeeze. “But remember, I’m not made of china. I’m just… pregnant.”

He smiled with a playful glint in his eyes, as if inviting Lucifer to relax, to let go of his worries.

Lucifer nodded slowly, his face still a bright, unmistakable red as he absorbed the warmth of those words. Adam had kissed him. He had actually kissed him. And, more importantly, he’d said… I love you.

Lucifer could barely breathe, the words echoing in his mind, wrapping around his heart and lighting something within him that he’d thought long dead.

Before he could respond, Adam chuckled softly, stepping back and giving Lucifer a teasing smile. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have,” Lucifer murmured, more to himself than to Adam, his voice still laced with wonder. This felt like a dream, a vivid and impossibly sweet vision he feared would dissolve if he blinked too hard.

Adam laughed, shaking his head as he rubbed his belly. “Well, this ghost is starving. Come on, Luci—let’s go see if there’s anything good in the kitchen.”

He started to shuffle toward the door, glancing back with a playful smile, and Lucifer, still reeling, followed.

As they walked through the halls, Lucifer's gaze lingered on Adam, unable to look away from the quiet beauty of this life. He was here, in a world that felt too beautiful to be real, and for the first time in what felt like centuries, he allowed himself to believe it was possible.

Lucifer followed Adam down the hallway, lingering a step behind, still grappling with the strangeness and sweetness of this new reality. As they entered the kitchen, Lucifer paused, taking in the space with a faint frown. The room was cozy, modestly sized, a far cry from the grandiose kitchen in his dominion. Here, everything seemed designed for warmth rather than grandeur—cabinets of warm wood, a sturdy stove, countertops speckled with flour dust and softened by the morning light filtering in through the window.

He barely had time to absorb it all before Adam made a beeline for the cupboards, his movements full of purpose and energy. Lucifer watched, feeling a strange fondness wash over him as he saw Adam pull out ingredients with practiced ease, his hands working with a confidence that seemed almost ritualistic.

“Adam, you’re pregnant,” Lucifer began, stepping forward and watching Adam stack flour, eggs, and milk on the counter. “You should be resting.”

Adam glanced over his shoulder, an easy laugh escaping him as he shook his head.

“You know I don’t like to rest, Luci. I need to be doing something—always,” he said, his golden eyes dancing with amusement.

Lucifer’s chest tightened. He didn’t know that. He didn’t know this about Adam. The realization settled over him, heavy and unsettling. There were layers, entire dimensions of this man, that Lucifer hadn’t known in his former life. His voice softened as he reached forward, taking Adam’s hand in his own.

“We could just… call for a servant to do it. You don’t need to strain yourself.”

Adam’s brows arched. “Servant? What servants?”

Lucifer blinked, caught off guard. “I… well, I mean, I assumed…”

He trailed off, searching for an explanation. “I could conjure whatever you want to eat. It’d be nothing.”

But instead of agreeing, Adam laughed again, a sound so pure and sweet it made Lucifer’s heart clench. Adam reached up, gently patting Lucifer’s cheek. “Oh, Luci, you always know how to make me laugh. But you know I don’t like it when you use your magic for things I can do myself.”

Lucifer’s gaze held a flicker of confusion. He wasn’t joking, yet somehow, without even intending it, he’d managed to make Adam laugh.

“But, I just… I really want you to rest,” he muttered, shifting his weight, his hooves shuffling on the floor. “You’re six months pregnant, Adam. You should be taking it easy.”

Adam’s gaze softened; his expression so tender that Lucifer felt his resolve begin to melt away.

“Luci, we’ve talked about this,” Adam murmured, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. The warmth of Adam’s hand in his own was grounding, an anchor in this unfamiliar world.

“Cooking… it makes me happy,” Adam continued, his voice filled with gentle reassurance. “It’s how I show my love. And I know you get worried, but you don’t have to. I’m alright. I’m stronger this time.”

Lucifer swallowed, his gaze lingering on their intertwined hands. The love and confidence in Adam’s tone soothed something restless within him. This Adam was gentle but unwavering, full of strength yet tender—a warmth Lucifer hadn’t dared let himself imagine before. Lucifer took a shaky breath, squeezing Adam’s hand, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I… I guess I just want to make sure everything’s perfect for you,” he whispered, his voice raw with an honesty he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back. “This… everything about this—about you—means more to me than I can even say.”

Adam’s smile widened, and he reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair back from Lucifer’s face. “I know, Luci. And that’s exactly why it already is perfect.”

Lucifer’s face flushed, his heart racing as he let Adam’s hand slip from his, watching as he returned to the counter with that gentle, devoted smile. Standing there, seeing Adam pour love and care into every movement, Lucifer felt a new determination settle in his chest.

He would protect this, Lucifer vowed silently to himself, this world, this life, this love.

He would do whatever it took to keep it safe, and perhaps, just maybe, let himself believe he truly deserved it.

Lucifer slipped around Adam with practiced finesse, his fingers closing around the bowl before Adam could react.

"How about I make breakfast for a change?" he suggested, his voice smooth and enticing as he flashed Adam a charming, radiant grin—the kind that could melt anyone’s heart.

Adam raised a sceptical eyebrow, not in the least bit swayed. He snorted, reaching to reclaim the bowl. "Oh, really? And what exactly would you make, hm?"

With a playful wink, Lucifer twirled out of Adam’s reach, holding the bowl just out of reach.

"Only my specialty... pancakes!" he announced with an exaggerated flourish.

Adam’s laugh was pure and warm, bubbling up despite his efforts to keep a straight face. “Pancakes, you say? But Luci, you can’t cook."

Lucifer's face morphed into a mock expression of scandalized surprise. "What? Of course I can! I'm an amazing cook!"

Adam laughed harder, clutching his side as if to contain the joyful sound.

“Oh, Luci…” he managed between giggles. “Have you forgotten what happened the last time you tried? Whatever that was supposed to be, it ended up… well, let’s just say it was a bit of a disaster. Black as a hockey puck."

Lucifer pouted, folding his arms in playful indignation. Then, as he caught sight of Adam’s still-giggling face, he let his pout melt into an amused, toothy grin. Ah, so it seems his other self couldn’t cook to save his life. How fascinating.

His eyes glinting with devilish excitement. “But, trust me, I’ve been practicing.”

Adam narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he tried to look stern, though his smile betrayed him. "Alright, alright. I suppose I’ll give my lovable husband a chance."

Lucifer practically skipped with joy. "Wonderful! Now, go sit down, put those feet up, and let me take care of everything!"

He leaned in and pecked Adam on the cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin linger against his lips. "Trust me, Addie—you’re going to love this."

Adam let out a resigned sigh, but his eyes were filled with affection as he settled himself at the small kitchen table, resting his hands on his belly. His sceptical smile followed Lucifer as he moved back to the counter, fully claiming the kitchen as his temporary domain. As he glanced back, Lucifer’s heart skipped—a sight that, for all his centuries, felt thrilling and entirely new.

Determined to impress, Lucifer turned to the stove, summoning a light flicker of flames with a single snap of his fingers. He poured flour and cracked eggs with careful focus, hoping his newly claimed cooking confidence wasn’t just bluster. As he whisked the batter, he stole a glance over his shoulder to see Adam watching him with quiet amusement.

There was a softness in Adam’s gaze as he observed Lucifer’s every move, as though watching someone he loved and trusted implicitly. And for the first time, the weight of that trust hit Lucifer with stunning clarity. Here was a man who knew his every flaw and, despite everything, still loved him fully, without hesitation.

After a few moments, Lucifer poured the batter onto the sizzling pan, smiling as the pancakes began to rise and golden, filling the kitchen with the faint, sweet scent of vanilla. He added a bit of flair, flipping each pancake high into the air, turning just enough to catch Adam’s eye. Adam’s chuckle was immediate, and the warmth it sparked in Lucifer’s chest was indescribable.

When the pancakes were finally done, Lucifer arranged them on a plate, meticulously layering them with a pat of butter and a drizzle of syrup, along with a handful of fresh berries he found tucked away in the fridge. He set the plate down before Adam, who looked at him with eyebrows raised in surprise and amusement.

“There you go, Addie,” Lucifer said, sliding into the seat across from him and looking at him expectantly. “The finest pancakes in all of Hell, made by yours truly.”

Adam lifted a fork, spearing a bite of pancake with a hum of approval as he took his first taste. A look of surprise flashed across his face, quickly replaced by delight. "Oh, Luci… these are actually good!"

Lucifer preened under the compliment, his grin widening. “See? What did I tell you? Only the best for my beautiful Queen~”

Adam leaned forward, reaching across the table to brush his hand over Lucifer’s. "Thank you, Luci. It’s perfect."

Lucifer’s heart skipped again, his pulse thrumming in a way it hadn’t in centuries. He squeezed Adam’s hand, the realization dawning on him all over again: he was living in a world he never knew he wanted, with a love he’d never dared believe he deserved.

In this life, every moment was something precious, and he vowed then and there to cherish every single one.

As Lucifer watched Adam from across the table, every glance, every subtle movement of his was a treasure. He leaned forward, his chin resting on his hand, careful not to let his curiosity spill over into suspicion. He wanted to drink in this new life, to savour the unfamiliar tenderness between him and Adam, and he was desperate for more details.

"So, what’s the plan for today?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Adam’s face lit up immediately.

“Charlie invited me to her hotel!” He beamed; eyes sparkling. “I’m really excited to go!”

The mention of Charlie sent a thrill through Lucifer. His grin spread wide, his mind spinning with questions. Charlie had opened her hotel here too—had it succeeded? What was it like in this world? Was her vision the same as in his own? His heart pounded with anticipation.

"That's wonderful, Addie," he said warmly, eager to learn more but reining himself in. "You know, I’d love to see Charlie too. It’s been… too long."

Adam tilted his head, a bit of confusion creasing his brow.

“You’re… okay with me going, right?” he asked, a hint of apprehension in his voice. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

Lucifer chuckled, surprised. “Why wouldn’t I be? She’s our baby girl, after all. I’d never stop you from seeing her.”

Relief washed over Adam’s face, and he released a soft laugh. “Oh, that’s good! I was worried you’d get mad…”

Lucifer’s smile slipped ever so slightly, something prickling at the back of his mind. “W-why would I be mad?”

Adam’s gaze dropped to his lap, his expression clouding over.

“It’s just… after the last time I left the mansion…” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

A pang of protectiveness surged in Lucifer, but he held himself back, sensing it was a sensitive subject for Adam. He offered a gentle smile instead, brushing his fingers over Adam’s hand.

“Well,” he said softly, “You’ll be with Charlie. I’m sure she’ll keep an eye on you.”

Adam’s face brightened at that, a grin breaking through the worry. “That’s true! Charlie’s got a good head on her shoulders. Besides, I miss her so much. She’s been so busy with… with the redeemed souls.”

Lucifer’s breath caught. Redeemed souls?

His eyes widened just slightly, the implications overwhelming. Had Charlie actually managed to redeem souls in this world? How had Hell—how had Heaven—reacted? His mind buzzed with a thousand questions, each one more urgent than the last. But he kept his expression calm, pretending as if this was all perfectly normal.

“I really wish you could come too…” Adam’s voice pulled him from his racing thoughts, his words laced with a faint sadness.

Lucifer felt his chest ache, wanting to join him, to witness this new version of Hell alongside his family.

“Why can’t I?” he asked, his tone almost teasing.

Adam arched a brow, giving him a knowing smile. “Luci, you know you can’t just cancel another meeting. I know how you feel about running Hell, but with all the changes going on, it’s… important, right?”

Lucifer quickly nodded, mimicking the confidence he assumed his counterpart would’ve had.

“Of course,” he said, his voice steady. “I can’t neglect my duties.”

Adam let out a quiet sigh, his eyes dropping to the plate of half-eaten pancakes. “Just… don’t work yourself too hard, alright? We hardly have time together as it is, and… I miss you.”

There was a vulnerability in Adam’s tone that struck something deep within Lucifer, a quiet ache that told of lonely nights and missed moments.

He reached across the table, letting his hand rest over Adam’s. “I promise, Addie. I’ll make time. For us.”

Adam’s eyes softened as he squeezed Lucifer’s hand.

“You better,” he teased gently. “Because once this little one’s here, they’re going to want a lot of time with their father.”

Lucifer's heart clenched at the mention of the child—their child. A sudden wave of protectiveness and tenderness washed over him, and he fought to keep his voice steady. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Adam's smile returned, warmer and brighter. "Good. You’d better keep that promise, Luci.”

They finished breakfast in comfortable silence, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air. As Adam cleared the plates, Lucifer couldn’t help but steal another glance, his mind awash with the marvels of this new life. This world was everything he hadn’t known he wanted, a world where love and redemption were not merely ideas, but truths shaping their lives.

He’d do anything to stay here, to see what other beautiful moments were yet to unfold.

...there was only one problem.

What has happened to the other Lucifer?

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #lucifer x adam #fanfic #guitarduck #au #fanficiton #adamsapple harvest #for adamsapple fans #adamsapple devil's night #mpreg

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kurosstuff · 9 months ago

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Gorgon Rosie x GN Bunny Reader but make it horror related smut. Or if you don't wanna do Rosie- Dragon Lute

<3<3<3<3

Thank you lovely~ im.. not to sure if this was for the event or not but I do love monster aus so- either way

Maybe I'll do a dragon lute if someone requests it♡♡

Warning(s): predator x prey, G!P rosie, smut, she messes with you, not right autonomy(rosie has a lower had of snake tail. And she has a dick so-?) Kinda horror kinda not? Idk, ruts/cycles? Kinda horror smut(If you consider her teasing taunts of eatting you) gn reader but afab, breeding attempts/talks, eggs? Idk

Gorgon!Rosie x Bunny!GN!reader: prey? Or more.

Getting lost in the woods wasn't always good- especially for being a prey. You could hold your own against some predators. But being a small bunny- against something like a wolf? Or any other creature out here?

Where you live? Nope. Can't do much besides running with your legs anywhere you can be- panting you stopped and looked around- ears twitching to pick up any noises you could hear slowly you walked deeper into the path- the thick woods forming almost a wall from how close the trees grew to one another

"Safe..I'm - I'm safe," you repeated to yourself unnerved by how quiet it was. The faint chirps of birds so far away. As if they didn't wanna be close to here. As If this is a place no one was dared to go.

Something told you- it wasn't safe. Alert, you glanced around, ready to leave at an actual moment if you needed. Taking a deep breath you stepped over a huge odd looking log- the almost red in it would have caught your attention if it weren't for your nerves being to shot.

Nor did you see the log move into the woods to hide

The deeper you went in, the more quiet it got. Taking a deep breath, you stopped. You reached a dead end. The unbelievably soft ground on your Paws making your ears strain twitching to pick up any noise.

Nothing.

Your ear twitched- now all the sudden, deathly nervous. Nervous on how silent this side of the forest got even more- looking around your tail twitched in fear legs shaking as if ready for run at any given moment but you couldn't run.

You were being watched.

Narrowing your eyes, you swallowed, trying to see anything out of the ordinary- but nothing did. It looked like a normal part of the trees- shifting together to hide this section off. Nervously, you played with your fingers as you counted. Your heart beating in your ears almost deafening you from how loud it was being-

How scared you were.

Closing your eyes, you tried to calm down. To relax. To convince yourself it's ok - you ok. No one's there. You're alone. A shift of movement above you caught your attention - a deep shiver ran down your back. Opening your eyes in the darkness, you could make out something - didn't take long to figure out it was a tail. A long tail moving up into the trees- up high

Whatever it was? Wanted you to notice.

It blended so well into the well it was like nothing was there. Yet it was moving- the only indication to you it wasn't an odd looking branch- no. It was alive.

Slowly, you looked up, seeing a figure in the trees hidden almost like they weren't truly there, but you knew they were watching you. A slow hiss escaped the figure, making you shake, backing up more, looking around. Glancing up the figure appeared to be a female as she stared down watching your every move. Didn't take long to realize-

Your standing in a nest.

"A adorable bunny out here alone?" a soft hiss echoed through out the forest making you shake your ear twitching as the mystery woman in the tree cooed "Oh poor darling~ I'm so sorry~" a soft hiss escaped her as she slithered down revealing herself to you finally-

Making you pale- tearing up. you're gonna die, no doubt about it. Of all gorgons. Of ALL predators. IT had to be her. Rosie. A cannibal of all things - one who wasn't above eating her own kind. Who was the most deadliest of them all

And now you- a bunny. Is in her nest wandered a bit to far to escape from the cold harsh air "darling~? Did you not hear me? Would you care for a cup of tea?"

Jolting you looked up at her tearfully- oh that adorable look~ if it weren't for her genuinely curious of you- she would have just eaten you the moment you stepped into her territory. Her home.

Her nest.

Blinking you nod foot tapping nervously as her long- long red spotted tail nudged you forward with her- "y-yes ma'am im- I'm sor-"

"No, no! No need to be sorry, dear little bunny~ I don't mind some company~" an odd dangerous glint in her eyes. You may be clueless on some things of other species. But you're no fool to this one.

Rosie is trying to figure out if she were to eat you. Or not. Oh, how you hope she doesnt- so you allow her to push ypu onto a table as the turns making a cup of tea. Her tail close to you- as If you stepped out she'd know. And you knew that-

"Bunny~? I do certainly hope you're not trying to run~ I do certainly love a chase of my food, but. You're not my food~" Turning to you, she winked "so relax for now~ sit back and just.. drink up~?" Purring placing the cup in front of you as she slithered so close to you

Glancing around, you looked for a chair seeing none, you choked, finally speaking "where.. where do I sit?" Making her pause in thought glancing at you- Making you squeek- humming, she moved, coiling her tail behind you

"I don't need a chair. I use my tail, but it's long enough to share~" she purred, gently nudging you to sit back on her tail, humming you, curled up slightly you gently tool the cup thanking her as you sipped. It's surprisingly good. "I do enjoy tea. Me and my darling friend do adore the beverage.. shame not alot of people like it nor partake in trying to make one" she hummed.

Making you flinch. Right. Rosie's friend- didn't take much to figure out. She meant that deer- Alastor. A cannibal just like her. Both such scary creatures. You were surprised they got along so well- but you supposed it made sense. Cannibals seemed to always prefer the comfort of those similar in these woods after all. Shivering you sighed- you have to remember.

Just because shes docile now. Doesn't mean she always will be.

Just like her best friend. She's well known for her sudden attacks. Against those she deemed not as food. Something akin to amusement. A sick twisted amusement that Alastor is also known to partake in.

Not even cause their hungry. But because they can

Your foot thumped against her tail nervously- a way to show your discomfort. Your fear of the chance to be eaten. To be taken and gobbled up by the Gorgon lady

"My~ look it here~" rosie called out lifting your foot up as you drank, her deep black eyes gazing- dispite no pupils you knew what she was looking at- the Paws- squeaking loudly once she poked at it gently with her Claws "My lucky bunny's foot~ no?"

There it is.

That dangerous glint on her face.

You had to remind yourself despite her kind nature at the moment. She's a dangerous predator the- WORST one you could have run into from the Gorgons side. Gulping your ears flickered as she hummed, pushing on the paw pads

Making you thump- gasping- snickering her tail slowly coiled around you "now now~ bunny if you do that- I may just eat you~" she purred out hearing your whines as she Messed with you "I see. So it is sensitive, huh?"

It was silent as she watched you twist groan and moan in her tail her eyes becoming so much darker if that was possible

"Bunny, listen. I'm gonna jump right to it- I'll only say and ask this once, " she suddenly spoke gently, squeezing you to get your focus."I want to breed you." She purred out, smiling that same dangerous glint in her eyes. Maybe the glint was wrong- "I can smell it you know. So can any other nearby. Your cycle started- it is around that time for bunnies no~?" She cooed out gently

Silent as she waited for your answer, drinking her tea, making you take in that smell you noted earlier about her. Making you squeak again, seeing an amused smirk on her face. It's the snakes mating season too.

And rosie is a Gorgon.

A snake.

"I'll take a no. I'm no monster, " Rosie spoke up humming. Seeing the nervous look in your eyes, she sighed, "I am a cannibal a predator who eats literally everyone-" hearing her admit it allowed did nothing to settle your racing heart. It didn't matter if you knew already. Gently cupping your face, she frowned. "I'd never force anyone to mate with me. I'm very keen on consent. It's very important after all"

Now that - oddly did comfort you. Blinking your ears twitched in thought, glancing around before slowly nodding, "i.. I'll mate with you" you whispered, making her hum in approval. Standing up easily, carrying you back to her nest

Moving into it, her tail curled around your body as If to hug you "now.. don't be so shaky little bunny~ I'll take good care of you~" Rosie purred out, kissing you gently, moving to strip you after again getting permission- your feet thumped nervously as she hummed

"How.. how do we-" gesturing to her lower half making her laugh softly "sorry was- that rude i- um-" kissing you deeply she hummed hissing softly

"I do have a dick." Rosie started grinding against you slightly."Just need to prep myself~ "I'll easily slip in ok~?" Kissing you deeply groaning softly panting against your lips

Yelping feeling something poking you glancing down, you finally noticed it - making her smirk "is- Is that -" you stuttered, trailing off as she nodded slowly you willingly opening your legs for her- on either side of her waist-

Inviting her

Humming, her tail curls more around you as she panted, rubbing the slit on herself as she started to poke out more "i- did anyone ever tell you not to play with your f-food?" You choked out as she hummed laughing as she pulled out fully pumping herself- it looked odd. But you knew a dick when you saw one.

"Who said fucking my food before I eat is playing?" Rosie purred out moaning moving close panting heaving rubbing her tip on your entrance "I know how bunny's are. Their unsatisfied. Sex crazed beasts, no? Such a soft cuddly creature that can go all night with no rest~" Without waiting, she slowly pushed in growling as you moaned, stretching around her, welcoming her in "fuck so tight~" such an off thing to hear such a old fashioned lady to swear

But like always, the kindness she held for you didn't change. She willed her hips to stop once her tip was in. Resting inside you as she awaited your approval, leaning close, she kissed your tears away, praising you softly nuzzling into you "ill be gentle~ don't wanna break my darling bunny no~?"

"O-oh~" you moaned out softly, panting heavily flushed dark holding onto her tail as it comforting laid under- on- all over you. Yet didn't crush you- just stayed as if to bring you comforting- your ears drooped twitching as she moved deeper into you, stretching you out more to fit her groaning loudly under her

"That's it~ I've got you~" she moaned, growling out kissing your neck gently as she pushed fully into you. "Now warning~ I'll be as gentle as I can, but.. Given the season, I may not be~" she growled out, moving into you, slowly, hands roaming all over as she bit down on your neck, making you whine loudly sobbing out

"Wh- I thought you said you weren't gonna eat me yet-!"

Humming moving into you faster, panting ignoring your question as she licked your bloodied neck groaning, "feels so good~ think you'll get pregnant?" She teased feeling you squeeze her as she pounded roughly into you "kidding~ got no eggs ready yet anyways~ maybe in the later season?" Moaning out loudly

Moving faster, rutting into you she moved biting anywhere she could hard enough to bleed. You weren't sure if she was mating you- or trying to sooth her other hunger.

Either way it made it all so much hotter.

Hearing your cries and moans of her name made her snarl uncharacteristically wild- like that when she's starved. In this case she supposed she was. Not in the feeding way no- in the way she wants you for herself. As a mate.

Her mate.

The thought made her groan pounding faster, twitching deeply inside you- "wait- are- are you gonna cum inside-" you sobbed out arms losely around her next as she claimed you- took you for herself. Marking you up as hers- her bunny- her mate.

You didn't mind if she did-

"Of course darling bunny~ i-i gotta properly breed you, no?" Rosie stuttered out groaning, panting her black pupil-less eyes staring down at you as she licked the blood off her lips- your blood.

God, was it hot.

Humming, she twitched more inside you, her pace unrelenting but now- sloppy as she fought to not come yet. Leaning down kissing your question, I am well aware of what you were about to ask "I will not come before you do~ my darling bunny I want to feel you- come on~ I can feel it~" she growled nipping at your bruised lips swallowing your moans and cries "come on~ don't you wanna come on my cock~?"

That- brought you even closer to the edge- and she knew it from how she smirked cocky at how you broke around her- even more - as you finally came around her harshly screaming out her name arching your back

"That's my good bunny~" Rosie moaned out watching you closely pounding rougher bring her cock out to the tip before ramming herself back in- the one thing on her mind- oh she truly can't wait to Have you all to herself for the whole season

Panting heavily holding your bruised Clawed up waist, she pushed as deep as she could inside you, releasing deep into you, claiming you on the inside like she did the out. "Fuck~" a curse falling from her lips as she fell forward slumped onto your chest smirking panting at the squeak you made

Staying nestled inside you the best she could- for as long as she could. Feeling her cock slip right back inside herself groaning "did so good my bunny ~" nuzzling you leaning back she grabbed a towel she kept on the side to clean you up smirking at how you gushed of her- humming in approval of her attempt

Laying slumped feeling hee uncoil around you whining- knowing now it's time. She's gonna eat you like she's talked about. Hinted at- but she moves coiling around herself you in her arms cuddled close to steal your warmth- it made you confused

"Your.. not gonna eat me?" You choked out- holding onto her arms, making her stop - staring confused before she hummed

"No. I won't eat my mate, of course, "pulling you close to her chest, ignoring your questions "sleep. Need rest no? For now. Then I'll mate you again and again-" she purred kissing you- her mate gently making you freeze flushed

Smiling, you curled up comfortably in her arms with the help of Rosie to move your legs. You hummed moving to nuzzle into her happily.

You couldn't wait to see what she had in store for you

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin rosie #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #MONSTER AU

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ioniansunsets · 1 year ago

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Hello!! I love all the heartsteel writings you have done recently , they are really delightful to read with the effort and time you put in thank you!! Would it be okay to request a secanrio i have in mind :

Where reader was listening to heartsteel kayns playing the guitar and she gets dreamy , he teases her and offer up to teach her how to play the guitar. He could also drag her close to his lap for close-up demonstration. Reader is very aware of his heartbeat and stuff and kayn could tease more!

Whichever you're comfy and feel free to change if youd like, and take ur time with it!! ♡

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Teaching Reader the Guitar ✖

✖ Word Count: 891

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: Thanks for waiting! Sorry this took a while teehee I tried to make it fun for you.

----

It was a nice cool evening, the two of you just had dinner and you were lazing on his bed. Kayn was feeling like rocking out so he set up his electric guitar and was having a hell of a time just a few meters from you. You lean against the headboard, watching him from the bed. It was beautiful. Without a doubt. The soft expression on his face as he hums and strums, the way his fingers glide over the strings, the way his arm muscles tense as he presses down on the frets. You were in love, and if you weren't, just seeing him like this playing the guitar for you would have your heart stolen anyway. For someone so chaotic, he was almost angelically graceful when he gets so in the zone playing the guitar. It was so unlike his usual stage self like this. Playing a different tune from the usual genre you were used to hearing from him. Kayn calmly vibing instead of his chaotic high. It was Kayn playing this time, not the Rhaast you were used to seeing on stage.

His brows furrowed in concentration as his hands work away on the instrument. The way he seems so...at peace when he's playing the instrument. The beautiful melody and steady tapping of his feet just further draws you in. You can't help it, you really can't stop yourself from staring. He was beautiful like this. The way sweat slowly drips down his face. The small step he takes back as he balances himself when he really gets into it. No wonder he had so many fans. If you weren't so distracted you would have grabbed your charging phone and tried to sneak in a few photos. Smiling to yourself, you watched him intently, doing your best to commit this to your memory when his voice snapped you out of your daydream.

" Starstruck my love?"

He gives you a smug smile as he puts the guitar down by his desk and walks over to you. You wave off his comment and tell him how much you loved watching him play. It wasn't that you were starstruck, it was just that you loved him and he had his charms. Especially over you. Especially when he looked so cool...

" Do you want to try playing something? I could teach you. I'm generous that way."

He bends over the edge of the bed, giving you a chaste kiss before smirking again. Hands behind his head as he looks at you.

"A private lesson from the Amazing Kayn of Heartsteel is something most fans would die for you know~"

You wanted to scoff and reject him but honestly, it was a nice way to understand him better. A pleasant excuse to get closer, share a new hobby, how could you say no. So of course you agree.

Excitedly, he grabs you and pulls you over to his chair by his desk. Sitting down, Kayn pats his lap, signaling you to join him. You raise a brow but his arms are already snaking around your waist, pulling you down. He adjusts some things on the sleek guitar before placing it comfortably on your lap. Your heart races as his arms wrap around you to hold the instrument. Sure he was just holding the guitar in place but you could feel his breath on your neck, his strong chest against your back, the small twitch in his leg as you adjust yourself, the rhythming thumping of his own heart. Ok, you were going to try and commit this feeling to memory too.

" Hmm...let's start with something simple. We'll get you used to like, some easy strumming pattern or something first. Easier stuff."

Kayn's fingers ghost over yours, gently moving your fingers into place, lightly pressing them down onto the frets for you. His other hand passing you his guitar pick as he gently holds your wrist. He leans his chin on your shoulder as he helps you move your hand. A shiver running down your spine as you feel his warmth slowly spread across your body from the close proximity. Kayn's hand begins to move, rhythming a slow down down up down beat. A simple beat that you've heard in other pop songs before. It was nice to listen to, Kayn already humming a little tune before he stops to speak.

" Wow you're doing good~ "

You almost yelp as his deep voice whispers into your ears. Way to close than you were used to. The way his breath hit the edge of your ears just send an almost instant blush across your features. He notices you jump a little, another playful smirk now plastered across his face as he sees you turn red.

" Oh? Feeling more than the music darling?"

Another accursed deep sultry whisper into your ears. Kayn leaning in closer to give the edge of your ears a teasing lick before you turn to glare at him flustered.

" Sorry can't help it, you were too cute all blushy like that in my lap."

He almost purrs into your ears, you can feel the deep rumble of his voice against your body in the closeness. Ah, what did you get yourself into by agreeing to this. You close your eyes and sigh as he lightly presses a kiss against your neck.

#van1shiro #Shieda Kayn #Heartsteel!Kayn #it was very cute #mans gunna be putting that guitar down to finger other things soon enough #Kayn League #SCENARIOS #League of Legends Scenarios #Kayn League of Legends #Heartsteel #KaynLeague #Kayn #Kayn LoL #Shieda Kayn x Reader #teehee shyshy #i want to give him a little kiss #i also think men playing instruments are very sexy so this was fun to write #also i am a ukelele player not a guitar player so #i hope this kinda makes sense LMAO

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 months ago

Text

the moon and the vast sky, m | myj

pairing(s): yoonji (fem!myg) x reader mentions of poly relationship with yoonji x reader x jungkook

summary: Min Yoonji loves a girl and she loves her tongue, too.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of f/f/m relationship; pan!f!reader x pan!Yoonji; fluff; wlw smut (fem reader; mentions of reader/JK having sex recently, f-receiving oral, fingering); non-idol!AU - Yoonji’s POV again, no dick here, just two women with pussies <3

“I don’t know how to…”

“You don’t need to.”

She was afraid of that. Afraid that was the answer. Her eyes followed as the line of her throat was revealed. She loved a ponytail. Loved it more when she saw the red-and-purple constellation of hickeys on smooth skin. A part of her wondered what it was like to be able to illicit that type of reaction from someone else. Envious of it, almost. The woman she loved had the kind of hold over Jeon Jungkook that others could only dream of.

Min Yoonji loved him, too.

Loved him like the moon loved the sun.

Slender hands decorated with a glittering red manicure curved around the inside of Yoonji’s thighs, pulling them apart. Heated breath sank as those piercing dark eyes rose, watching her reaction. Pink tongue sliding out between full lips baring a daring smile, and then the tension at her shoulders melted when that tongue pressed against her slick heat and painted upwards, sending a rush of forbidden pleasure stinging through her nerves.

Wicked and wanton, the other woman went down on her.

Yes, Yoonji loved Jungkook like how the moon loved the sun, and their girlfriend was the vast sky they vowed to stay trapped in.

Couldn’t breathe. Her hands found the edges of the pillows stacked behind her and her fingers twisted into them, desperately holding on to something as her lower half throbbed from the stimulations. Yoonji found she couldn’t stop staring at her. The lines of her body, feminine and serpentine. The perfect shape of her ass. Fuck. The way her eyes were closed, relaxed, her hair pulled back away from her face, and that face buried in between her legs. Those almond-shaped red nails spread over her thighs. Fingertips softly caressing her skin, contrasting the power of the persistent tongue sliding between her folds, dragging up, snaking inside her pussy, coiling back and rubbing against her pulsing clit. Hot breath overtaking everything. She could still see the shadows of love bites on her shoulders, the artwork of Jeon Jungkook.

She was so beautiful that Yoonji didn’t know what to do with herself.

It was wrong of her to enjoy it, but she did. Not the tongue, oh, no, she was ready and willing to relish in the blossoming bliss, ready to die at the talent of those lips slick with her juices pressing against her clit, doing only what gods knew down there. Yoonji no longer had the capacity to discern or comprehend between individual actions. The sucking combined with the flickering tongue was almost enough to send her over the edge. No, what was wrong of Yoonji to enjoy was not the act but what she knew must have transpired recently. She liked it. It was wrong to like it, but she did.

Yoonji liked knowing her girlfriend fucked their boyfriend and then came to please her.

She liked to know the same woman between her legs drove Jungkook insane less than a night before and then came to draw patterns over her nerves and burn ecstasy into her memory. There was wrongness in it and she felt guiltless about that, almost giddily so. The evidence of passion only made the image below more sensual. Only made the lust taste sweeter, more vibrant, more intense. A therapist would have a field day with all that, probably. Yoonji didn’t give a fuck.

Those predatory eyes opened.

Slivers of seduction.

Yoonji always thought the other woman was the most captivating presence she ever encountered. Maybe not willingly, but she did think that. Deep down. Two red-tipped fingers spread her upper lips apart with ease. Yoonji felt her breath catch in her throat. Her very blood seemed to be tingling. That minx tucked the tip of her tongue behind her lower teeth and lowered, pressing against her swollen clit, tipping her head back to stroke it with the center of that pink, wet muscle. Never breaking eye contact.

The electric sensation was amplified to impossible proportions by the directness of that stare.

Her lips closed in.

And Yoonji realized that she had only begun to feel real pleasure.

She had worried that she hadn’t known how to act. How to look. How to please. She still didn’t know, and now she couldn’t think either, dying the little death in the wake of a steady pace and a vacuum of euphoria. She could feel a hand slide up and down her thigh, but it was only another element into the web of strained tension building within. Yoonji gasped, clutching the pillows, trying to make sense of how to behave, but her back was arching, threatening, and then she felt a palm press down on her lower belly, long fingers fanning out and pinning her down.

Her breath was erratic, shallow, and Yoonji realized she was staring at the ceiling.

Her eyes shifted down.

The silver glitter of that red polish gleamed.

The other women’s eyes were closed. One hand on her thigh, the other on her stomach. The pace remained steady, sucking and licking, never leaving, building intensity in layers and pressure, closer, mind fuzzy, heat rising, pussy throbbing, muscles going rigid, there.

No time to gasp as Yoonji plunged into freefall.

Her orgasm seized her and twisted her insides, shooting scalding pleasure throughout her veins. She felt her legs threaten to close and they were forced open, the flat of that devious tongue surrounding her pulsing clit, and Yoonji shuddered, the harsh sensations expanding like hot air and then it collapsed, swallowing her inside the haze of desire, blinding, gasping, breaking the tension across her muscles into flinching, shivering limpness.

Suspended.

Soft lips to her quivering nerves.

Now Yoonji understood.

Men ate out women for the taste. To satisfy themselves. To satisfy their lovers. Women, too. Everyone in between. At best, for the connection. She panted, feeling her ribcage trembling from the aching bliss. Looked down. To lashes lifting. To dangerous dark orbs fresh off the high. To shining, plush lips with her taste clinging to flushed skin. The other woman cocked an eyebrow and dipped down, licking her trembling opening. Sliding her tongue inside, drinking the nectar, and Yoonji understood. She did it for the orgasm. For the pure experience of giving a mind-blowing high that no one else could match.

And she was fucking good at it.

At least the universe was still merciful in some ways, heh.

“What’s the matter?” Yoonji could feel each whisper on her slick skin. The little devil seemed smug, almost lazy with her licking. It made shivers dance up and down Yoonji’s spine. “Cat got your tongue?”

Her chest flushed.

A little late to be embarrassed about her own nakedness, but such was the delights of the human mind and post-cut clarity.

“Where…” Yoonji breathed in deeply to gain her bearings. “Where did you learn that?”

The other woman perched between her limp legs with too much poise and not enough shame. Probably didn’t even know the meaning of the word, Yoonji figured. “Here and there.”

She couldn’t help the frown. “So, you’re lying now. That’s not like you.”

An unassuming head tilt that could mean anything. “I’m not lying. I just don’t care to provide you with a hit list of pussy for you to pass your judgements about.” That stung. But she seemed unfazed by Yoonji’s instructive shrinking back, rising up to fill the space instead. Licking her lips. Ugh, her girlfriend looked so good naked that it was hard to stay focused. She tried not to let her eyes wander to those delectable breasts in the middle of their conversation. The sweet scent of sex mixed with their perfume. “Their names mean nothing to me.”

“That’s cold.”

“It’s true.” A flicker in those intense eyes. “Sorry to disappoint. They all got the worse versions of me, anyway.”

That attitude shouldn’t settle Yoonji, but it did. Perhaps that meant she was toxic. At the very least it meant she wasn’t deluding herself into thinking she was better than she was. Accepting her sexuality at a deeper level did mean she was becoming more selfish. Maybe she was childish, possessive lover deep down. She was done hiding her want in the wake of her desire, at least.

“Kiss me.”

A slow smirk touched those glossy lips tainted with her orgasm. “You’re cute when you’re bossy.”

Her hands raised to cup the other woman’s cheeks, drawing her closer as she descended, lips colliding, her own taste on her tongue and, yes, she was. Yes, she wanted. Yes, she knew that all her buttons were being pressed and yet she ran her hands over that soft skin, imprisoned by the fervor of their kiss. The world could tell her it was wrong, her upbringing could tell her it was wrong, her internalized self-hate could tell her at was wrong, but all that meant nothing when Yoonji felt those lips, that tongue, her touch commanding to leave the past behind for the present.

Right and wrong were the two sides of the same coin, after all.

Hungrily, Yoonji kissed down her neck, embellishing that smooth skin with her own marks beside Jungkook’s, addicted to the breathy sounds she could produce, to the way those agile hands cradled her head, to the way those elegant fingers curled into her hair, gasping, pressing her tongue against the soft curve above that beating heart. She could love a man. She did. But that was a known journey. Yoonji knew how to navigate that, at least generally. But this, oh, this was wandering without a map, tasked with the unknowing of what to do or how to do it, and yet the craving was so strong, so undeniable, so powerful that Yoonji refused to stop it, hovering her palm over the curve.

A hand enveloped hers and pressed it to another’s breast.

She was afraid.

But there was no time to be afraid.

Their hands moved together, across skin, from body to body, tracing lines and drawing invisible patterns, sharing the barely-there air. From warm to blazing hot. Lips to lips again, and their fingers interlocked across their chests while their dominant hands hovered below.

“I don’t know… How to…”

Those piercing dark eyes swallowed her up.

“You don’t need to.”

She followed. Mirrored. Cupping the drenched heat with her palm and containing it, breathing in the exhale given, their lips brushing against each other. Foreheads together. Yoonji was afraid and so she closed her eyes. It didn’t matter. She felt the hand move upwards, bringing two fingers together, sliding up and down. Ghosting her clit. She did the same, biting her lip, amazed by the softness. The wetness. The heavy scent musky sweet, blending with her own. She slid a finger inside, just wanting to feel it be closed in on, burrowing in the tight, slippery warmth, shivering at the wonderfulness of it.

“I can’t be doing that, lovergirl,” her lover playfully warned, skimming the tips of her almond manicure over Yoonji’s pussy lips. It made her skin sing with delight.

She gasped, thrusting in lightly, melting. “I… I know…” She couldn’t open her eyes. Could barely speak above a whisper. “I just… I just wanted to touch you…” So warm. So soft. So powerful.

“Well, then.” Plush lips brushed against the side of her open mouth. “Don’t stop.”

Yoonji felt a fingertip press to her clit and she jolted. Tipped her hips to the touch, searching for more pressure.

“Want a toy?”

“No, just you,” Yoonji murmured. “Just you.”

She moaned as she felt that tongue against her cheek, licking gently as the pressure deepened into slow, rhythmic strokes. Dancing kisses. She pulled her finger out to match the action, her heart skipping a beat as the other woman hummed in satisfaction, caressing Yoonji’s hair at the same time. Faster, rougher, using another finger to anchor the first and moving her entire arm rather than only her wrist. There was science to that, Yoonji was sure, but she was in too deep to deduce anything, her eyelids fluttering as the concentrated motion built the anticipation. She felt the grip on her head tighten. Lips pressing to her temple, breathing out her name, intoxicated, and Yoonji felt her lips form her name more than she heard her own voice, the pulse of roaring blood too loud, losing herself to madness.

“Don’t stop.”

She obeyed, keeping pace, her forearm burning, her mind muddled, but she fixated on the husky command, don’t stop, her own orgasm threatening, coiled, ready to strike, and Yoonji fought against the high, rubbing that concentrated bundle of nerves with every measure of control she could muster, breathless, turning her head or was forced to by another.

Yoonji opened her eyes, just barely.

Her girlfriend panted; pupils dilated with desire.

Their lips connected and they moaned into each other’s mouths, spilling over the exhilarating edge at the same time. It was not like the previous climax, but more like a satisfying descent into flinching, seeping pleasure, spreading over their bodies and crumpling into each other, into a deep kiss with palms cupping pulsating heat, containing the blissful beat from one beating heart to another. Her orgasm smelled wonderful.

She hoped Jungkook could smell her on her later, but that was asking too much.

A hand with glittering red nails raised, waving Yoonji’s juices in her face.

She raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, licking her traces off the other woman’s hand, sliding her tongue in between those talented fingers before lifting her own to lick off. Fuck, she tasted as good as she smelled. The two fingers she used went straight into her mouth. Sucking on them. Her girlfriend raised an eyebrow back. Yoonji did not share. She shot her a pointed stare and dared interference.

“Who made you glow like that?” her vixen teased.

“Your tongue,” Yoonji countered, ticking her head.

A smirk. “And my hands.”

And everything else.

“You don’t think about anyone else?” Yoonji wondered out loud, staring into those piercing dark eyes.

An unamused smirk. “That would be rude of me, wouldn’t it?” She chuckled. “Besides, I don’t see a reason to think about other people. Life took me out of theirs for better.”

That was how Yoonji viewed her own previous relationships too, but she couldn’t be sure it applied to everyone. A flutter in her chest. “Better?”

She felt a finger trace her cheek.

Her girlfriend smiled.

“Mhm. Better.”

It took everything in her for Yoonji to not explode from happiness. That would be very uncool of her. “O-Oh.” Excellent. Great cover-up, she thought to herself sarcastically.

“I didn’t take you for the jealous type.”

“I’m not.” That was a lie. But some lies Yoonji preferred. “I was just curious.”

“Hm.” Her girlfriend mused, leaning over her. “Curious little kitty, aren’t you?”

“I don’t like pet names.”

“It’s an observation.” A red nail traced down her cleavage. Yoonji shivered, involuntarily. “Sorry about that in the middle, then. I won’t call you that again.”

She frowned. “What?”

“Lovergirl.”

She felt her cheeks heat. “That… That one’s fine.” She hadn’t even realized it. “That’s not a pet name, anyway,” Yoonji mumbled under her breath. “You made it up.”

Those dark eyes glittered. “Pet names are all made up.”

“Yeah, but that one’s mine,” Yoonji snapped.

She felt a finger on her chin and reluctantly let herself to be led, falling into another kiss. Felt a little better after that. Didn’t say it though. She felt fingers run through her hair. That one’s mine. A half-truth. She knew she shared it with their Loverboy, and that made it all the more imperative to keep.

“I don’t say it out of malice,” that silken voice murmured. “We don’t have to preserve what doesn’t serve us.”

“Don’t backtrack,” Yoonji maintained stubbornly, pressing against the other woman’s curves. “We are past games.”

Gentle lips pressed against her temple. “Yes, we are.”

They pulled the duvet up over their naked bodies. Legs entangled. Yoonji missed Jungkook but she couldn’t deny the loveliness of her embrace. A feline possessiveness. They curled around each other, Yoonji nestled in her shadow. She used to think she would have to get used to sharing a bed with another. Then again, everything she used to think was thrown out the window once she encountered Jungkook’s lady friend, somehow getting swept up into shining as her true self, against her better judgement.

Somehow.

Definitely not because she couldn’t stop herself in the presence of temptation.

“Can I have one of the pillows?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

A light kiss on her cheekbone. “Not good for your neck either. You should be more mindful of your health, lovergirl.”

“Shut up.”

min yoonji masterpost | masterpost

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