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kingkaisen · 2 years ago

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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈

♡ — FIND PART ONE HERE . . .

♡ — SUMMARY: After what happened to you & your son, Satoru couldn’t stop drinking . . .

♡ — CONTENT: fem! reader, canonverse, violence & blood, reader celebrates Christmas, mentions of food, Gojo not eating, heavy drinking, & wanting to die. Mention of Gojo’s son & the reader struggling with their disabilities.

♡ — WC: 5.4K

♡ — A/N: thank you @sircatchungus for the idea!

There was so much blood.

It stained the walls of your home. It covered the little markings on the archway of your kitchen where you and Satoru marked the growth of your little boy.

No amount of scrubbing could ever get rid of it.

It soaked into the hardwood floors, the floors that had formerly only known the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet running along it as your little boy would run across it, arms out as he eagerly ran to his father whenever he stepped through the doors after a long mission.

The curses attacked at night, fifteen days before Christmas.

Your baby boy waddled towards the Christmas tree with a blue ornament in his hand, carefully placing it on one of the lower green branches — as high as he could reach.

Despite the holiday classics gently playing in the background, and the sweet smile across your son’s face — he was missing a tooth or two, but even so — you couldn’t manage to crack a grin. Not even a fake one.

Satoru promised that he would return home on Christmas Eve. But, for you, it wasn’t good enough.

He knew that your little family often put more effort into the days following up to Christmas almost even more so than Christmas Day itself.

On that important day, you opened presents. But, on the days leading up to it, you put up the Christmas decorations. Watched cringy Hallmark movies and drank hot chocolate. Went ice skating. Baked cookies. Visited your family. Wrapped gifts for his students.

And he would miss all of it.

“Mommy?” Your baby boy looked up at you with eyes brighter than the lights twinkling on the Christmas tree. “When dad come home?”

You didn’t respond immediately. You didn’t want him to cry when you told him that his dad couldn’t watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas with him this year.

He was used to Satoru disappearing at random times for unknown periods, but Satoru never missed the important stuff. Birthdays. Events. Holidays.

He never missed it until now.

“Hey,” you leaned down, placing your hands on your knees as you looked at your son. “Wanna get ready for bed? Let’s go pick out a book!”

“Okay!” He squealed, making his way for the stairs as you followed closely behind.

But, on your way to the stairs, you noticed something lying on the floor in your foyer.

“Sweetheart, what did mommy say about leaving your toys on the floor?”

Approaching the item, you started to pick it up, and it unraveled.

It wasn’t a toy at all.

It was a finger. A cursed object.

“Mommy?” Your baby boy called out, standing on the stairs. “Let’s read, Mommy.”

The curses emerged from the darkness of your dining room, drawn in by the cursed object.

The sight of the horrifically disfigured monsters brought your son to tears. He ran for you instantly, screaming for you. It only made the curses move faster. They went straight for your loud, crying son first.

There was so much blood.

—

“I never thought you’d fall in love in general,” Kento Nanami sipped on his glass of water as he chatted with Satoru. “But to fall in love with someone who isn’t a sorcerer is risky.”

“How so?” Satoru shrugged, leaning back on Kento’s living room couch as he sighed in utter relaxation.

“Does she know about curses? About how powerful you really are?”

“Of course she does,” Satoru smiled at the other sorcerer. “I’m gonna marry her, ya know. She knows everything.”

“You could also get in trouble for that,” Kento rolled his eyes at his friend’s idiotic behavior.

“No, I won’t. She’s just like you.” Satoru smirked a bit, thinking about how strong his future wife really was. “She can see curses, and she can kill them too, but she decided not to become a sorcerer. She hates the system, and wants me to leave it as well, just like you did before you came back.”

“I see,” Kento sat down on the couch next to the white-haired man. “So she’s one of us, kind of.”

“Yeah,” Satoru smiled fondly. “My girl doesn’t mess around.”

—

There was so much blood.

Nearby neighbors heard screaming and called the police.

Sirens blared through the neighborhood as a police car and ambulance arrived at your home. When they stepped into your house, blood coated the bottom of their heavy black shoes. They were certain that you and your son were dead.

No one could survive having lost that much blood.

Not a normal human, at least.

But you and your son weren’t exactly ordinary, and despite being unconscious, your chests were rising and falling. Faintly, as it certainly wasn’t a fate that would last, but it was enough for the emergency services to rush you and your baby boy to the hospital.

The skilled surgeons spent hours operating on your bodies — fixing what they could.

To ordinary investigators, it seemed as if a woman and her son were attacked by an intruder, and survived.

But, to the sorcerer society who picked up the presence of cursed energy in your home, they knew what really happened.

That you fought two first-grade curses and one second-grade curse.

It was a brutal fight, but you killed them.

Even so, when you awakened from your coma, doctors and the sorcerer society elders staring down at you as you lay helplessly in your hospital bed, you were forever changed.

—

No one told Satoru Gojo the truth.

Only the surgeons, first responders, and the elders knew the real fate of Satoru’s family, and the elders didn’t allow the surgeons and first responders to contact the father and husband of the two victims.

Instead, they told him that his family was dead. That it was Sukuna’s fault. They took advantage of the situation and fed him a pack of lies, all so they could convince humanity’s strongest sorcerer to allow them to execute Yuji Itadori.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he spiraled.

He went on a killing spree. He moved to a new town and nearly drank himself to death every single day.

And, little did he know, his little family had moved to the same town as well.

—

SEVEN YEARS LATER…

Your ten-year-old son walked down the streets of his small, cozy town. The brown and crisp fall leaves crunched underneath his shoes as he made his way down the sidewalk, and headed to your coffee shop after school.

His thumb was tucked underneath the strap of his backpack.

As he walked, staring at the ground so the setting sun didn’t shine in his eyes, he couldn’t help but frown.

School was rough today.

His class went on a field trip, and he had to witness his classmates bring their fathers along with them to the planetarium.

It broke his heart. He barely remembered his father.

He could faintly remember a man — a tall man who used to pick him up and play with him, but he couldn’t remember his face.

And, after the day you and he got attacked — although he couldn’t truly recall the event — you both never returned to your old home, where all of your pictures were.

All of your memories.

All he knew was that he wanted a dad. And he wanted to remember the man who once filled the role and figure out what happened to him.

What was he like? What did he look like? Did he have the same head of hair? Your son felt like he might have, but he wasn’t sure.

What did he do for a living? How old was he? Did he ever love his son? What happened to him?

God, his heart ached. He wanted answers, and he couldn’t get them. Not from you. Not from anyone.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his dad would have even liked him.

Perhaps, it was better if he didn’t have one, as he couldn’t play sports like most dads wanted their sons to do.

The great incident had left him with a bad leg, and he walked with a limp that often exhausted him.

He was even tired now, despite the incredibly short distance between the school and local shops.

He should have used his forearm crutch today. The field trip took more energy out of him than he expected.

And, the fact that he refused to let you leave the coffee shop, pick him up from school, and return to the coffee shop certainly didn’t help.

A tear rolled down his cheek. Even if he did have a father around, what father would want him around?

He already felt like a burden, although you never treated him as such. He just couldn’t help it.

He didn’t bother wiping away his tears, even as they clouded his vision of the leaves coating the sidewalk.

As he walked past the local bar, a tall man gently bumped into him.

“Excuse me,” your son mumbled politely.

The man reeked of alcohol.

“Sorry,” the man slurred out, walking around the boy as he made his way down the street.

Your son never looked up.

And Satoru never looked down.

When your son arrived at your cozy coffee shop, greeting the familiar regulars as he made his way to the counter, you smiled at the sight of your sweet boy.

He sat down at one of the barstools, slinging his backpack onto the counter as he pulled out his math notebook.

“Hi mom,” he greeted.

“Hi sweetheart,” you made him a cup of water and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he said. “My homework’s on decimals. Joshua tried to eat a bug during lunch today during the field trip. It was awesome.”

“Nasty,” you playfully wrinkled your nose, which made your boy grin. “Did you have fun? I’m sorry I couldn’t go.”

“Yeah,” taking a much-needed sip of water, your son pulled out his wooden pencil and started working on his math problems. “And it’s okay.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We’ll do something really special for your birthday.”

The boy simply nodded.

Folding your arms across your chest, you couldn’t help but wonder if your lack of attendance was better.

Not only could you not afford to close the coffee shop during business hours — your only other employees were busy with college classes — but you didn’t want to scare any of your son’s classmates.

After all, the great incident took a toll on you as well.

You lost your left eye and had a deep scar running vertically down your face. Most kids thought that it was cool, claiming that you resembled a pirate with your black eye patch. But you didn’t want to risk the chance of anyone finding it scary.

You had your fair share of other scars as well, and one missing finger.

But, none of your physical injuries could compare to your mental ones, as you also suffered from amnesia.

When you awakened from your coma all those years ago, you couldn’t remember what had happened.

Or anyone.

Or anything.

A couple of old people forced you away from the home you couldn’t remember and the loved ones you couldn’t cherish, and into a new life in a new town.

The horrific head injury you suffered while trying to protect your baby boy wiped away your past until you were nothing but a blank slate. But, after a year of being around him and constantly seeing his face, you started to remember your son.

Years later, he was all that you could remember.

Everything else was fuzzy. You remembered people, but you couldn’t remember their faces. You remembered love, but not who you shared it with.

You remembered how to do things — such as make delicious coffee, of course — but not who taught you.

But, even so, you thought that it was odd for a group of old people to rip your old life away from you.

They said it was for your safety, so the person who attacked you and your son wouldn’t find you again, but, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was anyone out there who missed you.

Who loved you.

Who you might have forgotten.

And, technically, you knew the answer to that question. After all, your son had to have a father, but who was he? Where did he go? What did he look like?

Perhaps, you’d never know.

—

The very next day, on his way to the coffee shop after school, your son bumped into the drunk man again.

“Excuse me,” he said.

“Sorry,” the man slurred.

Several moments later, as your son passed the entrance of the local bar, the bartender opened the door, and shouted, “hey!”

The drunk man never turned around, as he didn’t hear the bartender shouting for him. Your son stopped walking, looking up at the bartender.

“Poor guy forgot his wallet,” the bartender frowned, clenching the leather pouch in his right hand. “Guess I’ll hold on to it. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

Your son flickered his eyes between the bartender and the drunken man making his way down the sidewalk.

The bartender couldn’t leave the bar unattended, even for a second, but your son figured that the man might have needed his wallet before tomorrow.

“I can give it to him, sir,” your son smiled kindly, holding out his hand.

“Thanks,” the bartender handed the wallet to the boy but stood at the bar entrance as long as he could to make sure the kid actually returned the wallet to the stranger.

An unofficial challenge between the drunken man and the limping boy was underway; a challenge to see whether or not your son could catch up to him.

But, as the man staggered around, headed nowhere in particular but in the general direction of his home, your son caught up.

He reached up and tapped the tall man’s arm.

“Excuse me,” he said politely. “You dropped your wallet, sir.”

“Hm?” Satoru stopped walking, his hands in his pocket as he looked down. He made eye contact with the young boy who held his wallet up at him.

—

— ONE YEAR AGO —

Three gentle knocks were heard throughout Satoru’s home. It was a Sunday, and the bar was closed. Even so, the depressed man had enough alcohol at home to make it through the day, but he wasn’t nearly as drunk as he wanted to be. It just wasn’t enough.

When someone knocked on his door, he knew immediately that it was Kento Nanami. No one else visited him. No one else knew where he was.

Satoru opened the front door, leaning against it as he glared at the man with bloodshot eyes.

“Hey, Satoru,” Kento greeted softly. “Happy birthday.”

Satoru stepped away from the door. The other man walked inside.

Kento stepped into Satoru’s living room, which was unpleasantly cold, and he turned around to face his old classmate, who took a swig of his beer, loosely gripping the bottle.

“I won’t stay long,” Kento said. “I just wanted to bring you a gift.”

“What?” Satoru blinked at him.

Silently, Kento handed him a bag.

As Satoru hesitantly grabbed the gift, Kento grabbed the beer bottle.

Satoru slowly pulled out a heavy-framed photograph. A tear slipped down his cheek as his heart snapped into pieces.

“When someone passes away or goes missing, there are people who create photos and art to show what the person might currently look like using age progression.” Kento pushed up on his glasses. “I contacted one of them. Your wife looks the same, pretty much, but . . . that’s your boy. He would have been around nine years old, and that’s what he would have looked like.”

Hot tears fell from Satoru’s eyes and splattered onto the glass.

It was really you and your son — what you would have looked like if you were still alive.

His beautiful, dead family.

“Thank you,” Satoru mumbled. His hands were starting to tremble.

Kento wrapped his arms around the other man, hugging him tightly. He had to use all of his strength to not cry as well. “You’re welcome.”

—

“Sir?” Your son tilted his head a bit in utter confusion, as the drunken man hadn’t yet taken his wallet back. “Do you need some help? Getting home and stuff?”

Suddenly, Satoru kneeled.

Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Maybe he simply had too much to drink.

Maybe he was imagining things.

Because what Satoru thought — what he wanted to think — was that he was staring into his child’s eyes. That he was looking right at his baby boy, who he missed so much.

But that wasn’t possible. He was told that his family was murdered. He saw the blood.

“Thank . . . you,” Satoru slowly took the wallet back. “You . . .”

Satoru closed his eyes, and opened them again, fluttering his eyelashes as he tried to shake off what he thought was yet another vision.

Therapists told him that it was a response to grief — seeing his deceased wife and son when they weren’t there. And the alcohol running through his veins didn’t help either, as it distorted his vision a bit.

But . . . maybe, just maybe . . .

“You have’a name?” Satoru slurred out, his drunken words laced with hope.

“Noa,” your son smiled softly. “What’s yours?”

Satoru’s heart ached as his spirit was crushed once again.

His boy’s name was Ren.

The hallucinations must’ve started to return once more. Slowly, Gojo rose to his feet, putting his wallet in his back pocket.

Without another word, the man slowly started to walk off, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so.

“Mister? I don’t think it’s safe for you to walk home by yourself, you could get hit by a car or something.”

Satoru didn’t respond.

“Let me help,” the preteen limped over, grabbed Satoru’s arm, and slung it around his shoulder as best as he could. Truth be told, he didn’t help much despite his best efforts, but at the very least, he would be able to rest knowing that the stranger was safely at home.

By now, Satoru was convinced that maybe he was with a real person, perhaps an actual kid, and he was simply imagining that the young boy had his hair, nose, and eyes.

Together, Satoru and Noa walked up the steps belonging to the drunk man’s homey brownstone, and after stumbling around with the keys, Satoru managed to get the front door open, and Noa helped the man collapse on his couch.

Suddenly, his phone started ringing. Noa had five missed text messages from you.

“Mom’s gonna kill me,” Noa thought.

After all, he wasn’t responding to your messages, he was inside a drunk stranger’s home due to his overly kind heart, and he wasn’t at the coffee shop like he was supposed to be at this hour.

Not to mention; the great incident had resulted in you becoming even more protective over your boy, if that was possible.

“Hello?” Noa answered nervously.

“Noa? Are you alright? Where the hell are you?”

“I’m okay, mom,” your son said. “I was helping out a . . . friend, I’m sorry.”

“Get to the coffee shop. Now.”

“Yes ma’am.”

After hanging up, Noa faced the slumped-over stranger.

“I’m gonna go now, my mom’s waiting for me,” Noa announced awkwardly. “Do you have somebody around to watch you?”

“You look like a . . . like my son.”

“Okay,” the young boy shifted his feet on the hardwood floor. He truly didn’t know how to respond to the poor man. He must’ve been spouting drunken nonsense. “Well, have a good night, sir. Be safe.”

Noa turned around, coming face to face with a beautiful brown, brick fireplace. But what caught his attention was the photos hanging above it.

There weren’t many — only about four framed photos.

The first one he saw was a picture of a baby. It startled Noa, as the kid did look just like him. It wasn’t surprising, as Noa resembled the drunken stranger, but he had seen other people with white hair before.

“Maybe he’s my cousin’s neighbor’s dog’s mother-in-law’s brother’s uncle,” Noa childishly thought, giggling aloud at his own joke.

Then, he looked at the next picture.

It had that same kid — but it also had you. His mother.

The next picture was just of you and the stranger.

Then, finally, he looked at the last photo. It was an age-progressed picture.

It was you. It was him. But, at the same time, it wasn’t. He didn’t quite understand it — any of it — but it was creepy. And the child didn’t know what to do.

Noa turned to face the stranger, but he was fast asleep on the couch.

The young boy pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of the photos, and left as quickly as he could.

—

Satoru awoke the next morning with a pounding headache.

What snapped him out of his sleep was the sound of his front door opening and closing. He didn’t bother raising his head to see who it was, as he already knew the answer.

“If you’re just going to leave your front door unlocked,” Kento called out from the foyer, stepping into Satoru’s home and shutting the door behind him. “Then I shouldn’t have gone through the trouble of having a key made.”

“What are you doing here?” Satoru croaked. “It’s only . . . it’s only — uh, Saturday.”

“No,” Kento stepped into the living room and glared down at the man. “It’s Sunday.”

Satoru frowned. If it was Sunday, then the bar was closed.

Not only that, but he went to the bar on Friday. He must have spent Saturday on the couch, doing absolutely nothing except making an occasional trip to the bathroom.

And Kento could tell. He looked horrible.

No human being was made to endure such self-inflicted mistreatment, no matter how powerful.

Kento had a key to the man’s home for emergencies, but eventually, he started to visit him every Sunday to help him out in any way that he could.

“Come on,” Kento sighed, “get up. You need to get out of the house and go somewhere that isn’t the bar.”

“No,” Gojo mumbled weakly.

“Gojo,” kneeling, Kento tried to look at his friend’s face, but Satoru’s eyes wouldn’t meet his. “Gojo, listen to me. You’re going to die if you keep going down this path. Maybe not soon, but eventually. When was the last time you had food and water?”

Satoru shrugged.

Kento raised to his feet. Walking away, he headed to the kitchen — which was incredibly nice for a man who didn’t cook — and opened the refrigerator.

It was empty. Of course.

“Alright,” Kento said to himself, walking back into the living room. “I’m dragging him to the grocery store.”

—

It was incredibly difficult, but Kento helped his friend get cleaned up and dressed and managed to get him outside. Satoru hated every minute of it. He felt nauseous. All he wanted to do was sleep and drink, or drink and sleep.

As the two men walked into the grocery store, Kento grabbed a cart and instantly started grabbing a variety of ingredients to put together at least a week’s worth of nutritious meals for Satoru.

He’d cook it and store it away in Satoru’s fridge and freezer, and all the man would have to do was heat it in the microwave.

After making his way through the produce section, Kento headed towards the cases of water, and Satoru sluggishly walked down random aisles to find a jar of pasta sauce that the other man asked him to go get.

He had to do some things on his own.

—

“I’m thinking we should go with asparagus instead of broccoli,” you scanned your eyes over the fresh, green vegetables, before smiling down at Noa.

“Asparagus is fine, but can you put cheese on it? Pleaseee?”

“You know what, as long as you’re eating them, I don’t care what I have to put on them,” grabbing the asparagus, you tossed them into your cart as your son clenched his fists in celebration.

You ruffled his head of white hair with your four-fingered hand.

“Stop it, mom. We’re in public,” he frowned playfully.

“Fine, fine,” you started to push your cart forward and reached over to grab a pack of tomatoes. “Go pick out your cereal. Gonna switch it up this week, or get Lucky Charms again?”

“Lucky Charms, always,” your son grinned as he started to limp away. Today, he had to wear his forearm clutch.

Helping that stranger a few days ago took a lot of energy out of him.

He didn’t speak of what happened a few days ago, either.

After all, who would he tell?

You wouldn’t have the answers — or, rather, you wouldn’t remember the answers.

He had planned on returning to the drunk man’s home to ask him the questions running rampantly through his mind.

But Noa wasn’t stupid.

He knew exactly what the pictures meant.

But he didn’t want to give himself any hope, just in case he was wrong somehow, and the drunk man wasn’t his father.

A forty-pack case of water bottles was what you needed, as you and your boy chugged water constantly. But, a careless worker had shoved the cases incredibly far away, and you couldn’t reach it and pull it onto the lower shelf of your cart. You’d have to lift it, and you simply weren’t strong enough.

The nicely dressed blonde-haired man standing further along down the aisle was.

He was rather tall and buff, standing by his cart as he scrolled on his phone, simply waiting for you — the lady in front of him, whose face he couldn't see — to move so he could grab his own case of water, grab his miserably sober friend, and take him back home.

“Excuse me,” you called out softly. “Can you help me? I can’t get this case of water.”

“Sure,” he said, shoving his phone in his pocket and he walked forward, reached down, and pulled the case of water on your cart.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

As the man was about to say “you’re welcome,” he finally looked at you.

His skin paled instantly as if he was staring at a ghost.

And he was certain that he was.

He stood there — staring at you, his throat drying to a crisp.

“I don’t know why the employees always shove the water back there,” you attempted to make small chatter, glancing away from the stranger, as you assumed he was staring at you oddly due to your eye patch, and the scar running along your face right beneath it.

“I . . .” the man couldn’t find the right words to say.

Suddenly, your son made his way down the aisle, putting his box of cereal in the cart.

“Mom, did you know they make Lucky Charms with just the marshmallows now?”

The man’s eyes flickered down to your son, and his eyes widened.

“This isn’t . . . possible,” he mumbled.

Both you and your son were still alive, and yet, you didn’t seem as shocked to see him as he was to see you.

Didn’t you remember him? He was your husband’s best man at your wedding. He babysat your little boy quite often. He cried when he heard that you and your son were killed.

And yet, you only gave him a stranger-friendly smile.

“I-”

“Y/N?”

Kento was interrupted by Satoru, who had suddenly walked down the aisle.

He dropped the jar of pasta sauce on the ground.

It shattered.

“Renny?” A tear slipped down his cheek.

He wasn’t hallucinating — he was sober enough right now to know that.

Your eyes darted back and forth between the two unfamiliar men. After all, you knew well that you suffered from amnesia, your doctors had told you, and considering the man with the white hair called you and your son by your old names — the elders made you change them — you figured that they must have been old friends of yours.

But the white-haired man bore a resemblance to your son as well.

“Hi,” you smiled awkwardly, flickering your eyes between the two men. “You two must know me. I, um, I suffer from amnesia, so I don’t really . . .”

“Remember us,” Kento finished your sentence for you.

He thought that he was going to pass out.

“Well,” he gulped, pressing a hand against his head, closing his eyes as he spoke. This was insane. “I’m . . . I’m Kento Nanami. I was an old friend of yours. And this is Satoru Gojo, he is . . . he was . . .”

Kento glanced back at Satoru. The poor man hadn’t moved an inch. He only stared at you with the saddest eyes, an occasional tear slipping from them.

“I was waiting to die,” Satoru spoke — his words struggling to come out as he did so. “I was waiting to die so I could see you two again, and you don’t . . . remember me.”

The tears were falling even faster now. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time, one that he couldn’t bear. He wanted to laugh and sob. He wanted to hold you, but he was afraid to move. His hands started to shake, but the rest of his body was still frozen.

For years, he dreamt of reuniting with you and your boy again, perhaps in the afterlife. Or, sometimes he’d dream about you coming back to life like a silly child. But a fate as cruel as you being alive, but suffering with amnesia was like a direct punishment from a god and a devil at the same time.

Gojo wanted to fucking die.

He wanted his life to end right now, even glancing up at the ceiling of the grocery store, hoping one of the gods above would grant him his silent wish.

“You don’t remember me,” Gojo repeated. None of it seemed real. “You’re alive, but you don’t remember me.”

By now, other nosey shoppers were strolling by, listening to the conversation, but pretending that they were simply searching the shelves for drinks.

Your eyes darted in Kento’s direction, and he knew that face.

It was the same face you gave him when he and Satoru returned home two days late from a mission. It was the face you gave him when you came home one day and discovered that he accidentally let your baby boy stay up past his bedtime.

That face meant that you wanted answers.

“I don’t know any better way to say this,” Kento frowned. “That’s your husband. And the father of your child.”

Noa — or, rather, Ren — limped forward.

“I knew it,” he whispered happily, approaching the crying man as a tear slipped down his own cheek as well. “I was right.”

Ren looked up at his father with the happiest grin of relief.

And, god, your son grew. He was only three when Satoru had last seen him, and now, he was staring down at his beautiful boy, who was turning eleven soon.

Your son hugged Satoru with the arm that wasn’t holding on to his singular forearm clutch.

“Finally,” your boy said, holding on to his dad as tightly as he could.

He couldn’t remember him, but he didn’t care. He was simply happy to have a father.

Satoru didn’t hesitate to hug his son back.

“God, Renny . . .” the man cried, as his heart ached terribly. “It’s really you, it’s my baby boy.”

Running a hand through his son’s white hair, Satoru pulled away from the hug, only so he could look his boy in the eyes, and see him.

“You’re all grown up now, aren’t you?” A sad chuckle fell from Satoru’s lips.

He only looked away from his son when he felt another pair of arms wrap around him.

It was you — you were hugging him.

Satoru closed his eyes in relief, his tears soaking the front of his shirt, and dripping onto the heads of his family.

You hugged him lovingly, although you couldn’t remember loving him.

Your husband — the father of your child — was nothing more than a stranger to you, but he needed this hug. You could tell how badly he missed you. How badly he wanted to hold you.

As Satoru held onto his wife and son, none of you truly understood what had happened seven years ago.

But Satoru was determined to find out.

And, in the meantime, you’d try your hardest to recover your sweet memories of him, just as you once recovered the memories of your son.

Perhaps, you’d start by making new memories as well.

♡ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤? 𝐈’𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

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rainrot4me · 10 months ago

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Outrun, Undone

Summary: Your body hurt, heaving and clawing to escape. They were catching up, laughter echoing through the dense trees as you ran, praying for your stamina to hold. But you knew you weren’t fast enough, and so did they…

Characters: Masky & Hoodie x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Chasing, predator and prey, primal sex, blood, injury, fear, threesome, double penetration, vaginal fingering, anal, blowjob, vaginal, overstimulation, power play, fighting, aggression, mocking, degradation, forced submission, pussy spanking, oral fixation

Words: 8.2k

Fight or flight is described as an instinctual reaction that occurs when the body perceives a threat, rallying for survival.

Psychologically, it changes you, gripping for any out or sense of security as it pushes its own comfortability. It’s primal, animalistic, and desperate; mind clawing for any serenity. Your mind and body were screaming, like every inch of your consciousness was being ripped apart the harder you fought. You wanted to cry and scream and get away, but they wouldn’t let you. They were going to make sure you lost this bet.

The woods felt like they went on forever, large pines and ominous maples cutting off your direction and forcing you into a maze, the schlick of mud under your shoes echoing with every quick step. You were soaked with sweat and rain, hair clinging annoyingly to your face and blocking your vision. Your clothes felt heavy on your skin, making it hard not to get overstimulated and tired. “Fuck-” You gasped, rounding a mound of roots to find a patch of brambles, head spinning and looking for another direction. The loud thumping of boots was heavy behind you, branches and leaves snapping as you heard hollers paired with eager laughter calling out your name, searching for you. There was no other direction. You hauled forward.

It was your fault, really. You roused them on, claiming stealth and agility were better tactics for a killer than brute force and power. The boys chuckled, arms crossed and stupid grins shining as they teased. It was always so odd to see them without their masks, especially in such good moods.

“Oh yeah? And who says that?” Masky poked at you, leaning back into the door of the rental truck you had all lived in for the past week. This mission was exhausting, another hitman job for the Operator that you really couldn’t bring yourself to be passionate about. The boys weren’t too thrilled either. Sleeping cramped into a single cab as the only girl was devastating. The smell of no showers and lack of proper meals was getting to you now, a two-day headache pounding at the base of your skull and making you nauseous. At least they let you have the back seat to yourself.

“Uh, says the one who’s gunned down more than both of you?” You scoffed, kicking some gravel from the campsite parking lot. “Don’t you ever notice how I’m the one having to pick off the stragglers when you two come in guns blazing? I swear, you two only think with your revolvers instead of your actual brains.”

Hoodie chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the truck bed. “These brains don’t do much thinking anymore anyways.” You rolled your eyes, “Obviously.” Looking out across the field meant for hunting, a dense treeline hung just over the clearing as the sun began to set, deep oranges and pinks pushing through the leaves. You couldn’t remember what state you were in, somewhere north and cold, early autumn setting in as the breeze whipped against your cheeks. It was going to rain tonight, you could see it in the way the leaves upturned, the thick smell of distant downpours on the bark stirring in the air. “Just saying. I could outrun you both and still have the energy to take down someone. You two wouldn’t last a second without your precious little weapons strapped to your hip.”

The boys tensed, eyes narrowing as they looked at each other, a silent challenge welling up. “How about a game then? Put your little stealth tactic to the test.” Masky huffed, a stupid grin matching the eagerness in his eyes. Hoodie nodded along, pushing off the truck bed as he stepped closer, his boots crunching into the gravel.

“The woods out there. It’s only about fifty acres worth, but it’s dense. Good enough for hide and seek, huh?” Hoodie’s voice sounded a little more chipper than his usual monotonous one, laced with excitement and almost giddy. “We’ll give you ten minutes, put your money where your mouth is. If we can’t find you, we’ll buy you a hotel room for the rest of the trip.” You glared, heart thumping at the idea of finally getting a shower and some heat, fingers fidgeting at your sides. “But, when we catch you, and we will, who knows what we’ll ask for?” Masky shrugged cockily. “Guess we’ll be thinking about it while you’re runnin’.”

The boys pressed forward, shoulder to shoulder as they stared down at you, nauseating smiles making your heartache. You glanced back to the tree line. Crossing your arms, you rolled your eyes, stupidly accepting their bet. You were going to win, you knew you were, but all they could do was smile. “Ten minutes starts now, sweetheart.” Hoodie fiddled with his old-style military wristwatch, wiping the glass as he clicked some buttons to start a timer.

“So I just… start runni-”

“Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…” You tensed, taking steps back before spinning on your heels, zipping your jacket up as you began to run, slipping into the trees.

When you began to run, that’s when the excitement truly swept in.

The ten minutes had long passed, your feet carrying you deep into an unfamiliar forest where every tree looked the same. But you had to keep going, if for nothing else, then to create distance.

It was getting too dark to see, the sun hanging low on the horizon and dense night setting in. The silhouettes of trees stretched ahead, endless in every direction. There was no trail or path to follow, only the thick underbrush and ferns that whipped at your legs as you ran, branches scratching your skin. You had no clue where you were going.

The rain had begun as well, thick droplets soaking your clothes and face, making your hair cling to your skin. Your legs burned, muscles tensing as you dodged trees, mud clinging to your shoes the further you went, your breath already quickening. When you reached a small clearing, you paused, catching your breath as you searched the shadows, listening intently for any signs of movement. Nothing caught your attention besides the heavy patterns of rainfall, leaves, and branches whipping in the wind as you set off again, catching your pace.

Adrenaline couldn’t differentiate this from real danger. You dealt with these boys every day, watching how they worked and killed, studying their every move. But now that you were on the other side of the fight, there was no clue just how real they were going to make it. You knew they wouldn’t kill you. They were all for bets, but they weren’t sore losers. They might catch you, they might hurt you, but they wouldn’t kill you. And, somehow, that excited you.

There was something so rousing about playing the victim for once. It made you feel vulnerable and small, but oh did it make you desperate.

Climbing over a fallen pine and sliding down the short ridge beyond it, you crouched close to the ground, pressing close to the roots and bushes as you caught your breath again. You had to think one step ahead, had to conserve your energy; any chance for a break was a good one. They wanted a chance, so you’d give them a chase. But you had to be smart too.

Snap.

You froze, slow breaths shaking as the condensation fogged at your mouth. You clenched close to the ground, careful not to move as you heard the thumps of boots more clearly now, a matching pair. You clenched your jaw, bracing your hands against the side of a tree as their voices grew too.

“Come on, little mouse,” Masky called out, the giddiness in his voice making you cringe. “You’re not very good at hiding your tracks.” Shit. The rainfall had roused the ground with mud, your imprints being left everywhere and leading right to where you crouched. You had to move.

Rain and sweat dripped off your nose, teeth clenched as you shook, the cold breeze cutting against your skin. Your pupils blew wide as you scanned the ground, snaking your body up quietly as you took eager steps in the opposite direction of the boys. The mud squelched, your body aching as you pushed off the tree, steadying your pace back into a jog to not make too much noise. You heaved, letting your pace grow the further you got, the small steps turning into a desperate sprint as you whipped through the trees, the wind burning your cheeks raw. You were panting, sucking deep breaths of air, and fighting against the strain in your chest.

“There!” You cursed, Hoodie’s voice ringing through the trees as you sprinted, fists clenched as you dug your feet into the ground. In your attempt to get away, you had done exactly what you wanted to avoid, catching their attention. You heard the sound of their boots taking heavy steps in the distance, far enough but definitely still too close for comfort. Your heart thumped, adrenaline pumping. You tried to look back, to gauge just how far they were, just how fast you needed to run. You couldn’t see when your ankle snapped against a root popped from the ground, flinging your body down.

The ground was damp, mulch and rocks lodged into your knees as you clattered to the dirt, heaving for breath. You didn’t remember which direction you were trying to go, but it didn’t matter as you pushed your aching body up, lunging back into a sprint. Rain and fog blurred your senses, the stout smell of wet earth suffocating you with every labored gasp. You groaned, palms and clothes covered in mud and grass, your chest aching from the abrupt contact. The boys howled with excitement, their chanting and loud laughs making you nervous, and desperate to get away. The worst part, however, was the fact they had now put on their masks.

The three of you had grown comfortable, there was no desire to cover their faces around each other, saving the covers for jobs. But now, the stupid masks were snugged on, concealing their expression and making this situation all the more terrifying. Now, you realize they saw you as a job, a mission to catch and take, no longer just a little game. You wanted to cry, the anger shooting through your veins as you ran, heaving for air and distance, your brain screaming to get away. They were going to catch you.

You were so used to being on the other side. You were the one chasing, the one seizing runaways. But, something about being the one having to get away, the thought of you fighting within an inch of your life against your friends. It got you stirred in the worst kind of way.

You sprinted, half-running half-sliding down the steepening slope, your shoes catching on vines and mud as you went. You had no clue where you were going or why the terrain was suddenly changing, but you continued to press forward, feet flinging out from under you as you sprinted. The slope picked up, rocks and thicker soil breaking under your steps, clattering down the side of the hill you were pressing down, leaning back to claw into the mud as you lost your footing, pummeling down. Your foot caught on a root, hauling your shoe off your foot and snapping your body with it.

You met the clearing at the bottom face-first.

You landed hard, a thick stream of water splashing against your face as you gasped. The air knocked from your lungs, rolling onto your back as the water flowed around you, the tiny stream picking up from the rain. Rocks and moss stuck to your clothes, your teeth grit as your chest ached. You had to get up, you had to keep running.

But the chuckles from above you made you whine, footsteps crunching down the muddy slope as they paced just out of your sight. “Aww, think before you run. Don’t go panicking now.” You could hear the smile in Hoodie’s voice despite your dizziness.

Out of pure adrenaline, you shoved yourself up, looking towards the slope, but finding nothing there. You spun on your heels, surveying the trees and sides of the hill, nothing sticking out. You hissed, looking down towards your hands as dirt sunk into the cuts, your palms torn and bleeding down your wrists, mixing with the rain. Your socks were soaked with mud, your feet aching and pounding with pain as your foot had been welted raw. But you couldn’t find them. For how large and annoying they were, you couldn't find them. You had to keep moving.

Turning away from the slope, you dug your heels in, pushing away from the stream. It was hard to focus, hard to keep your mind from spinning as you clawed, legs burning every step they ran. Your head felt light, too nauseated to notice the flash of yellow in your direction.

A hand seized around your throat from behind, the other gripping into your hair as you cried out. You flung, fighting back against the tight grasp Masky held, kicking your knees. How the hell had he gotten to you? You swung your arms, reaching back to claw at the fists wrapped around you, elbow flying back to make contact with his ribs.

Masky gasped, grunting heavily as how grip loosened, reaching for his side. You slammed back hard, taking the opportunity to shove your shoulders back, knocking the brunette off balance and releasing you. In the process, you took the chance, sprinting away and pressing through the rain, gasping as you heard his yells behind you.

Gripping the side of another steep hill, you clawed at the roots and rocks protruding from the side, launching yourself up the side of the ravine and scrambling up onto flat ground above. Your socked foot caught on a rock, slicing through the fabric and through to your skin too, making you hiss and clench your jaw. Don’t look back, don’t stop, don’t be afraid-

Hoodie grunted as you slammed into him, chest knocking against him so hard you landed flat on your ass. He wasn’t so easy, not allowing you to get back up as the taller man pinned you down. You thrashed wildly, arms and legs flailing as his fists gripped your jacket, raising your chest to slam you back down against the ground, knocking the breath from your lungs. You gasped, tired arms reaching up to claw at his hoodie, tugging the soaked cloth, and trying to reach his skin. Hoodie laughed, his fingers digging into your sides as you groaned, panting your exhaustion. Masky was following behind, grappling up the side of the hill and chuckling his amusement. You were panicking, flailing under the man as you whined.

“Didn’t last very long at all, huh?” Hoodie mocked, pushing your legs out of the way as you tried to kick him, your hands still clawing. The man just pressed harder, reaching up to clench your jaw, angling your head closer to the ground and into the mud. It was disgusting, your pants and whines making him smile as you gripped his hoodie, feeling for anything you could use.

When your fingers brushed his pistol holstered snugly against his side, you strained your jaw, reaching as far as you could. Hoodie was focused, eyes locked onto your face as his fingers clenched around your throat, tightening excruciatingly as you gasped, head already spinning. Your breathing was labored, the intensity of his grasp faltering your reach as you strained, the eagerness in his grasp making you dizzy.

You whined, pressing your shoulder down as you finally wrapped a finger around the end, tugging the weapon out of its holster. Masky was close now too, boots crunching in the mud as your vision blurred, rain and lack of oxygen snaking a darkness into the edges of your sight. You snagged a finger around the cold metal of the gun, hauling it up and bringing it down quickly, slamming against the side of Hoodie’s skull. His groan rang, his grasp on your throat letting free as he hauled back, gripping at the side of his head.

You scrambled up, panting breaths of moist air as you pushed back in the mud, hauling yourself up. Masky tried to press in, your hands were quick to shoot up and aim the pistol, a finger placed steadily on the trigger. The man stopped, mockingly holding his hands up and laughing, angling his head to the side in amusement.

“What? Is the little mouse scared now? What happened to all that big talk earlier?” You cringed, panting loudly as puffs of condensation clouded around your mouth. You were shaking wildly, mud and rain crusted deep into your clothes and skin, soaking you to your core. “I thought this was some game, not a real chase.” You grit your teeth, snarling your desperation through angered words.

Hoodie was up now, looming close to Masky’s side as he watched, an expression showing he was ready to pounce. He wanted more, you could see it in the way his fingers flexed and palmed against his jeans. You shook, keeping the pistol aimed between both of them. You didn’t give them a chance to get to you again. Turning on your heels, you lunged into another sprint, chest, and legs aching at the sudden burst. The boys latched on, not giving a second thought before chasing behind you, desperately trying to match your pace. You were faster than them, but there was no way you would be able to beat them again physically. With a hurt foot and weakened body, they would overpower you in an instant.

Mocking chants and laughs echoed loudly behind you, the rain and wind snapping at your skin. You limped through every step, trying to keep a good pace as the pain began to sink in, mud clinging against your cuts. Your mind was racing, excitement and pent-up energy exerting themselves in every ache and stretch. So many times on missions you were forced into uncomfortable situations, clawing and begging to prove yourself, to show just how useful you were.

But now, you weren’t chasing anymore. You were the one running, the one begging and sobbing to be shown mercy. Masky and Hoodie weren’t capable of mercy, they didn't know the meaning of the word. So now, the role flipped on its head, you were truly aware of just how much you needed to get away.

You swung your arm around as you felt bodies close in, gripping the pistol tight and aiming high as you took a shot. An ear-piercing ricochet rang through the trees. Curses shouted, loud gasps as the bullet whizzed past their heads, and maniacal laughter soon followed. “Shit, Hood! Mouse’s got some bite!” Masky panted, exhausted tone showing as he continued to run. Hoodie growled his approval, grappling off of trees and closing in again. You’d been a fool to think they’d scare so easily. Of course, your violence would just get them more excited.

Clattering across a stretch of gravel and mud, you cursed, the gash in your foot screaming with pain. The limp caused you to be ill-timed, Masky taking the falter and seizing you, your bodies clattering to the nasty ground.

Masky chuckled, your hair knotted in his hand as he forced you onto your chest. Your fingers dug into the mud, desperately trying to push yourself up as you flailed, pistol gripped tight. Limbs burned, lungs gasping for air as you felt a knee press between your shoulder blades before you could move. He crushed you against the gravel harder and harder. Masky pressed down close, dragging your head to the side so he could groan into your ear. Hoodie was already on you too, the sole of his boot crushed atop your hand to pry the pistol away, tossing it a few feet away. Masky’s knee pressed hard, the mask covering his expression, but you could hear his excitement all too well.

“All that running just for us to still catch you, little mouse. I say we deserve some compensation for all that work.” You clenched your teeth, tears welling in your eyes not only from the exhaustion that was creeping in but from the terrible pain shooting through your body. Everything hurt, sleepiness hanging on every limb. They must have noticed as the Hoodie knelt down beside your head.

He caressed his fingers over your skin, marveling at the softness of your cheeks cool with the rain, before nudging your jaw with his fist. “I think I know a pretty good reward, eh?” His hoodie was soaked, the usual mustard color a dark brown as Masky loosened his grip on your hair, tugging your shoulder over as his knee lifted. You tried to gauge their expressions and understand what they were so giddy about as you lay on your back, face, and clothes splattered with mud and rain. “I’d say I have to agree with you there, man.”

As Masky stood, you tried to sit up before large pairs of hands shoved you back to the ground. Your bodies pressed close, Hoodie wedging himself against your side as Masky gripped your arms, pressing them down against the rocks. That’s when you felt it, the heat in his jeans pressed against your hip, your skin exploding with warmth. You tried to look through his mask into his eyes, shimmying your hips as Hoodie did the same, gripping the side of your face to keep your head down. They were overpowering you, binding you down to submit, forcing you to stop. You didn’t want to. They wanted a fight, and you weren’t so willing to lay down and take it.

“Keep moving your hips like that and watch what happens.” Masky barked, snaking a knee between your legs as he pressed close, breathing muffled as he held you. Your body was useless, their arms and hands gripping tight and hauling you close, gasps ringing at every fist tightening. “You’ve lost, alright? Just fuckin’ give up.” Hoodie jerked your jaw, pressing your shoulder to the ground as you kicked your legs, Masky’s knee slid up against your core and held it there even when you squirmed. “Even after all that runnin’ you’ve still got energy? Fuck.” Masky angrily laughed, tugging at your jeans and undoing the buttons, your heart immediately jumping from your chest.

“Masky-” Hoodie clasped a hand over your mouth, tugging your body up against his own as he pressed beside you. Masky let go of your hands, Hoodie quick to take them in one hand, and hold them above your head as the latter worked on shimmying your pants off of your thighs. The rain made you twitch as drops hit your bare skin. “We won, remember? Gonna have to show you just what girls with big egos get, yeah? You could use a little humbling…” The hooded man smiled, snaking a hand around your throat and clamping down, your airway choking closed as you gasped. It felt like a rush, every inch of your body overwhelmed as they gripped at your skin. You were falling apart, fighting and fear leaving your body, anxiousness and excitement slowly creeping in the lower Masky’s hands dipped against your thighs.

“Every inch of you is a tease.” He snapped, your muddy jeans discarded as fingers dug into your skin. The man acted ravenous, fingernails clawing against your damp skin as he nudged himself between your legs, your head swaying lightly as Hoodie pushed his grip on your throat harder. “Been dying to get a good look.”

You couldn’t deny how many times you caught them staring. Every time you stripped down to your underwear to bathe in the creek or laid out in the truck's backseat to get some rest, their eyes lingered, awkward silence hanging in the air. It was obvious now. That same ravenous look was caught behind the eyeholes of their masks, your heart skipping as Masky hooked his fingers into the waistline of your panties. Jerking against Hoodie’s grasp on your wrists, you let your back arch off the ground, panting against the fingers gripped onto your throat as Masky slowly slid the cloth down.

Rain soaked your face as Hoodie took his time sliding a hand up your shirt, palming at your moist skin and dragging your jacket off of your shoulders. “You’ve always had such a loud mouth, y’know that? It’d be nice to see it occupied with other things.” Hoodie chuckled, letting his fist off of your throat to slide up to your lips, your gasps and coughs music to his ears. He was quick to slide two fingers past your teeth, shoving them down to the knuckle and pushing down your tongue. You gagged, head rearing back but his fingers followed, pressing down into your throat with a cough. He let go of your wrists, snaking a fist into your hair as he held his fingers still, your throat constricting around the digits as you reached back to grip his hoodie, tugging him closer. Masky watched close, your warm cunt throbbing as the cold air ran goosebumps across your skin.

“Christ.” Masky hummed, pressing your knees apart as he adjusted himself between them, his cock constricting tight against his jeans. He slid your folds apart with his thumb, swiping the digit through your wetness and spreading it, smiling at the way your hips instinctively jerked. You whined, senses overwhelmed as you choked again, gagging as Hoodie began to pump his fingers. “If you can’t even take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock? Do better.” Hoodie was so much more gruff than Masky, barking his command and pushing you further than you knew he could go. The man was always the quieter of the two, his shadow-like demeanor starkly contrasting Masky’s. So when it came to primal instincts, the two flipped like a coin. Masky took a much more silent authoritative stance, while Hoodie was all bark and bite. The two worked perfectly together, you realized, in murder and sex. Perfect contrasts no matter the circumstances.

Your cheeks shot red, your eyes watering the louder you heard him huff. You tried to let your throat relax, you tried to breathe steady. But when you felt a finger screw into your cunt, forcing its way into your hardly prepped warmth, you cried out.

Masky’s nails dug into your thighs, his knees shoving your legs open as he twisted his middle finger, angling to press up against the gumminess of your walls. “So warm, damn…” He grunted, letting his thumb press against your clit and rub aching circles against the nub. Hoodie didn’t give you a moment, however. His fingers were soon tugged from your lips as he snagged your hair back, pushing your cheek against his jeans, face-to-face with his boner. How were you going to take that? You tried to stammer, tried to press your hands on his legs, but he was already undoing his belt. “Hoodie-” You hissed, your sentence cut off as you jerked your hips up when another finger crammed itself into your tight cunt, digits spreading and scissoring you loose. Your eyes shot back and forth, focused on fingers tugging down their zipper but also on the hungry way fingers dug into your folds.

You were overwhelmed, the rain and wind snapping at every naked part of your body and sending chills. And the boys were eating you alive.

“Wait, please- I’m sorry! Ah! I was wrong okay-” Hoodie’s palm was back around your mouth, your pants and whines muffled behind the hand as he tugged his jeans down with his boxers. Your eyes shot wide when he tugged his cock out, shoving his waistband below his balls and giving his length a few good tugs. Masky chuckled, pressing the heel of his palm down onto your clit as he rhythmically curled his fingers up, your cunt soaking them. “If you’re so sorry, then show it, sweetheart.” You gawked at the girth wrapped in Hoodie’s fist, unsure of how you were even supposed to take half of that in your mouth. But take it you would. It didn’t matter if you screamed, bled, or passed out, Hoodie was going to make sure you would melt on it.

You were trembling, as vicious as you were, you were excited. Hoodie and Masky could see it. They had no intention of hurting you, but they had every intention of breaking the little ego you held onto. You held their gaze, rain streaming down your face as you whined. “Open up.” The brunette didn’t give you much of a choice as he pressed his cock to your lips. You gasped around the tip, his hands wrapping into the back of your hair and pressing your head closer. Hoodie groaned as he went deeper, your throat convulsing around him with a barely suppressed gag. You felt like you were losing air, taking a last deep breath before Hoodie stopped, your lips wrapping tight around the middle of his girth.

He held steady, Masky keeping you distracted with his fingers, but you couldn't fight the dizziness in your head. Hoodie drank up the way your eyes slammed shut, the way your hands gripped into his clothes and pawed for release; he couldn’t stand it. Masky couldn’t either.

When you caressed your tongue along the bottom side of his cockhead, Hoodie growled, fisting your hair tight. He snapped your head closer, pushing your throat open around his girth and tugging you back off quickly, snapping his hips back again to set a sickening pace. You choked, slobber pooling around your lips and glistening on his length as he fucked into your throat, giving you no time to breathe. You dug your nails into his hoodie, clawing for something to hold onto as he rattled your head. Every squeeze of your throat just spurred him on, the resistance only making him more eager to fuck you open and raw. “God, you must be real sorry, huh?” Hoodie growled, letting one hand shove up your shirt up and tug your bra off of your tits, gripping onto the mounds.

Masky watched, smiling wildly behind the mask as his cock throbbed against his jeans. Your cunt had soaked his fingers loose enough to slip another in, his free hand shimmying his belt undone and tugging his zipper down. The man took a shaky breath when his cock met the cold air, twitching and eager as he unscrewed his fingers from your cunt, surprised at the way your hips tried to follow them. The loud sound of slobber and gagging on Hoodie’s cock made Masky excited to hear more, pumping his cock in his fist covered with your arousal as he pressed a free hand back to your folds. “Don’t pass out now, little mouse.”

You couldn’t hear him over the sound of your own head roaring, throat tensing and convulsing at every press of Hoodie length into your mouth. He was so rough, so aggressive in his actions, desperately clawing for more as if he had been begging for this for forever. You finally felt like you could get the hang of it, finding a good position for your mouth until-

Smack!

You nearly screamed when you felt a palm slap down on your cunt, snapping against your cunt and sending your hips shooting off of the muddy ground. Masky laughed, his fist jerking his cock as your eyes shot open, trying to pull your head back off of Hoodie’s length. He growled, snapping your head back down onto his cock and shoving your nose into his pubes, snapping at you to stay still.

Masky raised his hand again, your stomach tightening as you watched through tear-beaded eyes when his palm made contact with your clit again. It stung, your throat grunting and sobbing as Hoodie gripped either side of your head in his hands, fucking his hips into your warm mouth. You tried to press your thighs shut, Masky shoving them apart as he slapped again, spanking your cunt and grinning at the squelch. Pained whines muffled around Hoodie’s cock as he rubbed his fingers against your clit before hauling his hand up, smacking back down to watch your hips jerk. You dug your heels into the dirt, trying to press away, but Masky’s hands were already gripped around your hips and tugging you back.

Your head was light, oxygen barely seeping through as Hoodie completely ignored your wails, hips jerking, and balls slapping against the side of your face the deeper you drank his cock down. “So good…” He muttered, gasping as he hunched over your head, driving his hips at an exhausting pace. Your jaw hurt, eyes raw with tears as you lulled your tongue against the underside of his length to desperately hurry his orgasm along.

Your mouth was so full, so warm and tight, and took the brunette the best you could. Hoodie whined when he felt his balls tighten and abdomen tense, ecstasy shooting through his body as he throbbed in your mouth and spilled down your throat. You clung to his hoodie, unable to swallow as quickly as he pumped into you, cum and slobber dribbling down your chin. You gasped as you felt the intrusion leave your mouth, desperately trying to catch your breath as seed dripped down your chin. Masky didn’t give you time, barely able to swallow before you felt a tension pushing into your cunt.

“I think you still owe me an apology, right?” The man between your legs chuckled, pushing your hips down to the soaked ground as he slowly sunk in, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. Hoodie was panting, wringing the last of his orgasm from his cock as he hauled your head up, craning your neck to face him. He shoved his mask up, the fabric bunching at his brow as his flushed cheeks glistened with sweat. You whined as you felt Masky’s cock press deeper, your walls throbbing around him as Hoodie caught your lips, breathing deep as he panted into your mouth.

“Mmn, fuck-” Masky chirped, raising your ass off the ground as he pressed against your tightness, sinking into your gooey warmth. Hoodie ravaged, gripping your jacket and shaking it off your arms, fingers tugging at your shirt until you could hear the seams popping and snapping. Masky bottomed out, you gasp giving Hoodie enough access to shove his tongue past your lips and suck on your own. Groans and whines swapped, Masky watched, stomach twirling with arousal.

He slowly tugged his hips back, your thighs trembling as you peeked out, groaning when you watched Masky slide his own mask off of his face, the object clattering into the mud. His hips didn’t get far before they snapped back, nails tugging your hips back to meet with a stifled moan. Hoodie shuffled behind you, adjusting himself to your back pressed against his chest as Masky started his drowsy pace into your puffy cunt. You whimpered with every inch, panting desperately. Your pussy gripped him tightly as Masky pressed all the way inside—before withdrawing completely and plunging back in again. You screamed, the sound choked with frantic need as Hoodie replaced his lips with his fingers again. Masky pulled your hips back, fucking mindlessly until your knees tightened around his sides. He snaked a hand between your legs and rubbed your clit, grinning as you shook from head to toe and went limp against Hoodie’s chest, the pleasure shattering you.

“Too much, little mouse?" You managed to shake your head, defiant little thing. Masky snapped his hips again, pace slowly and sickeningly increasing, thrusts getting harder but not faster. You mewled, sucking on Hoodie’s digits as he played with your nipples, massaging your tits with every heave of your chest. “Don’t get needy now, sweetheart,” Hoodie noted the way your hips craned to meet Masky’s every move, stomach tightening to get a better grip around his cock. You groaned, flexing your hands as they both laughed at your desperation. You were irritated. They wanted badly to ruin you, to make you theirs. But when it finally comes time for you to enjoy their part, they won’t let you. You felt yourself snap as you hauled your bodies forward.

Masky grunted as you shoved your hands against his chest, kicking your feet free from his hands and slamming the big guy on his back. Hoodie was quick to follow, stunned at the sudden movement but sure to find his place snagged onto your back as you straddled Masky again.

“You’re a fucking prick.” You groaned, pressing your nails into his face as your knees dug into the rocky mud-caked ground. You all were nasty, sweat and rain dripping from your brows but you were so horny it didn’t matter.

Masky pressed back, tugging at your wrists to let off of his face. It was only when he shoved your jaw back did you saw the gleam of metal in the rain, the dark pistol smeared with mud but close enough to grasp. You pressed forward, shoving Masky’s forehead down as he snapped, Hoodie gripping your hips to drag you back.

You tried to claw, to reach the gun, but the boys were stronger. “Little cunt. You never learn, huh?” Masky barked, gripping his cock tight as Hoodie angled your hips to sink back onto the length. You choked out when they slammed your hips together, Masky setting a brutal pace up into your cunt as Hoodie pressed you down, jerking his own growing cock now.

“I don’t know where you- ah- where you get this attitude from,” Masky growled into your ear, your chest pressing down against his as he quickly tugged his cock in and out of your drenched warmth. You whined through every echoed slap, the rain, and sweat making you both slippery, and every thrust of his hips reverberating off the density of the trees. You reached out, stretching your shoulder as far as it would go to reach the pistol just at your fingertips. You groaned, pressing your sore hands into the mud for one final stretch, your index brushing the metal and tugging it in your direction.

“Fuck you.” You growled out, tugging the gun into your hand and turning to aim it at the side of Masky’s temple. You wanted a reaction, for his pace to hesitate or his eyes to stutter, but they never did. He just kept tugging your hips down, mercilessly shoving the air from your lungs with every press of his cock against your sore walls. Your noses brushed as you stared deep into the other’s eyes, a silent challenge. If anything, he went faster.

Hoodie chuckled behind you, letting his cock slide between your ass cheeks every time they bounced in Masky’s cock. He was grunting, pressing your lower back down to get a better arch out of you. “Cute.” He smiled.

Masky glanced, acknowledging the weapon pressed so aggressively against the side of his head, but keeping his attention on you. You wanted to yell, to tug the trigger just enough to watch fear creep in, but your thoughts got abruptly lost.

Masky let your hips go, tugging a fist into your hair as he slammed your lips together. You grunted into the kiss, anger fuming between the two of you and tearing your resilience apart. The kiss was aggressive, teeth snagging on lips and tongues shoving against cheeks as Hoodie took his chance to rest his hands on your hips. “Shit.”

Hoodie tugged his cock back, your hips riding Masky on their own and setting your own pace, cunt gushing and squelching at every move. You hadn’t even cum yet, and the desperation was getting to you.

“Stick your tongue out.” Hoodie reached between you two, cutting your kiss short as he selfishly shoved two fingers into your mouth, Masky growling at the loss. The brunette just laughed, a cheeky grin flashing as he tugged his fingers back, swiping them between your asscheeks.

You hissed, hips stuttering their pace as you felt Hoodie press his index finger against your asshole, swirling the muscle eagerly. “Hoodie.” You grit, craning your neck to look back at him, Masky letting his hand fall to your upper thighs. The brunette smiled, slowly nudging his index finger through the tight ring and making you sit up straight. Masky growled, reaching up to wrap his arm around you, tugging your shoulders back down, your neck in a headlock against his chest.

He slowly began to thrust his hips up again, achingly slow to distract from the feeling of Hoodie stretching your asshole. You wanted to growl, to fight back, but your eyes just rolled. Masky smiled as he watched the pistol slowly slip from your grasp, clattering back against the gravel as he fucked lazily up into your cunt, the warmth a lot more gooey than before. You could feel your abdomen flutter, clit brushing against Masky and sending your thighs tensing. “Please…" you moaned. "Coming… make me come…”

Hoodie craned his index, stretching the rim of your asshole and jerking your ass apart. Masky’s breath startled, resilience cracking as you came on his cock, cunt tightening and throbbing around his length. You convulsed, breath hitching as they brought you to your peak, shuddering violently in Masky’s arms. He couldn’t take it, he had to pull out.

You moaned out, whining when Masky slipped from your cunt and groaned loud, regaining his composure. Hoodie still worked your ass, the sting and stretch were painful but strangely so addicting. He let a second finger tease the rim, your hips sensitively jerking against the feeling as another finger slowly sunk into your ass. Your cunt clenched on nothing, tensing through your orgasm before Masky realigned himself, squeezing his cock back in. He could’ve come from how warm and gummy your walls were after cumming.

“You ready for both, mouse?” You felt dizzy, head straining as Masky kept a hold on your neck, locking you down against his chest. You tried to nod, mumbling your eagerness as Hoodie successfully pressed another finger past your rim, your whine making them grin. The brunette gave you a few good tugs before pulling his fingers out, stroking his length as he pressed the tip to your rim. You groaned against Masky’s chest, biting into the cloth of his shirt as he thrust his hips, trying to give you a good duality as Hoodie slowly pressed in.

It stung, the stretch and fullness making your fingers grip into anything you could get, nails indenting into Masky’s sides. Hoodie cursed, fingers digging into the mounds of your ass and tugging them apart, trying his best to sink in through the constraint. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re tight as hell- shit-” You sobbed through the tension, trying your best to relax as both of your holes slowly filled, your abdomen swirling with waves of arousal. You felt dizzy, panting in Masky’s scent as Hoodie finally snapped in the rest of the way, the stretch making tears spill down your cheeks.

“Fu… Fuck me…” You choked out, craning your hips just enough to make Hoodie whine, nails cutting into your hips. The boys got the hint, Masky slowing down his pace to match Hoodie’s stuttered one, the brunette fighting against the constraint of your ass while he bluntly thrust. You moaned anyways, Masky’s cock snagging your g-spot and ramming there, his grin telling. He couldn’t resist leaning forward to steal a kiss again, biting into your plump lips.

Hoodie couldn’t get over your mouth, however. He needed to be in that warmth again. So, he leaned forward, pressing his fingers against the side of your cheek and pressing them into the corner of your mouth, Masky tensing at the foreign taste. He looked like he was going to say something, but you shut him up with a plop of your hips, raising your ass up to fuck against Hoodie’s cock and ride right back down onto Masky’s. “Be nice.” You gasped as Hoodie curled his finger into the side of your cheek, tugging the skin back to make drool pool against your lips. Masky growled, rolling his eyes before snagging your lips again, loud groans and hisses panted into the other’s mouth. You felt so full, holes stuffed so nauseatingly well you could feel the way their cocks brushed together inside of you.

You could feel it again, the way your gut clenched. Masky clenched your thighs, his cock aching inside of you as Hoodie snapped his hips, riding close to the edge again. You tried your best to angle your hips back, giving them both the best angle to tug their cocks in and out. “‘M coming- Fuck! Please, please, please…” You panted through every snap of their hips, their cocks squeezing and stretching your holes so wide you knew you were ruined for anyone else. Your head was so tired, cunt throbbing and aching for release the harder they went, chasing their own.

“Pull out, Hoodie…” Masky choked, getting the last few thrusts he could as he felt you tightening, his cock teetering dangerously close to the edge. Hoodie whined, the tip of his cock popping in and out past your rim and dragging him closer too, both of the boys a whining grunting mess with you sandwiched between them. “Ma- Masky… Hoodie…”

Both of your holes clenched down as you came, the intensity of your orgasm washing over you so strongly that your eyes lulled to the back of your head. Your stomach twisted, the knot unraveling as you released on their cocks. Masky moaned lowly, biting into his lip as he forced his cock out of your swelled cunt, ropes of cum dripping from his tip as he stole your lips. Hoodie followed quickly, pushing your ass off of his cock as he started fisting his length quickly, pumping tight at the base to shoot his seed across your back. He whined through his orgasm, smearing his cum across your ass and lazily smiling at his work.

You all panted, shoulders slumped and bodies sore. You felt like you couldn’t move, every muscle inside and out aching from the exertion you had gone through.

Rain still poured, the chill seeping into your bones as you shook, water and sweat dripping from your nose. You felt so spent, cunt and ass ruined and throbbing wildly as you let your head go limp on Masky’s chest, the man grunting underneath you. “Fuck…alright, mouse.”

You were far too sleepy to care much as they shoved their limp cocks back into their jeans, everyone’s clothes soaked and cold as Hoodie wrapped his arms under your limbs, hauling you up. “C’mon, sweetheart…” Even they sounded tired.

You slipped in and out of sleep on the way back to the truck, Masky collecting your items as they went and tossing everything into the bed as the engine roared. Hoodie laid you in the backseat, climbing into the passenger as Masky peeled back towards the interstate. You were too tired to ask where you were going.

You only stirred back when the obnoxious luminescent lights showed into the truck window, blinding you. You squinted, tossing your hand in front of the light as you sat up, the backseat suddenly opening.

“Don’t make me regret buyin’ this,” Masky growled as he tossed a blanket towards you, you just now realizing how nasty with mud you all were. You smiled as Hoodie helped you out, shuffling you close to his side as the boys dragged you around to the shabby door of the motel they had found. You flinched as you remembered your foot, the crusted blood and mud staining the underside of your sock as you limped through the rusty door.

It wasn’t anything nice, definitely not five stars.

But as you three tugged off your clothes and cleaned as much of the mud off as possible, it didn’t matter. The boys cringed at your cuts, mumbling their apologies and helping you clean them up, too. Exhausted, the three of you crawled into the way-too-small bed, the boys on either side of you as they cradled in, sticky and sore body parts finding their comfortable spaces.

It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was better than sleeping in the back of the truck. You smiled when their breathing labored, faces cradled into your shoulders while you slowly blinked your sleepiness away. You didn’t want to acknowledge what this night might mean for the future, at least not tonight. You’d much rather sleep.

But as Masky and Hoodie slid their arms around your torso, legs interlocking as you all finally relaxed, maybe it didn’t seem so bad anymore.

You’d have to learn to watch your tongue, though. For your sake.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thank you to my wonderful editors: @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

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worlds-we-write · 28 days ago

Text

time in a bottle

pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

summary: You survive. Barely. After a brutal ambush meant for Joel, he’s the one left picking up the pieces. As you recover, both of you have to learn how to live with the scars—inside and out. Inspired by Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce

WC: 5.5K

Tags: graphic violence, detailed injury descriptions, near-death experience, PTSD and trauma response, panic attacks, nightmares, body image insecurity, physical and emotional recovery, protective Joel Miller, soft and emotionally vulnerable Joel, hurt/comfort, angst with a soft ending, established relationship, no smut (pure emotional intimacy), canon-divergent

My Masterlist

You’re only supposed to be out for another hour.

It’s a familiar path—worn by hooves and boots, trees thin enough to see through, quiet enough to feel safe. You’ve ridden it dozens of times.

But this time feels off.

You turn your head too late. You barely register the snap of a branch before someone slams into you from behind.

Your forehead cracks against the ground. Pain explodes across your face. Your ears ring. Your mouth fills with dirt.

Boots stomp near your ribs. You try to move, but you’re already being dragged—hands under your arms, your limbs limp, rifle long gone.

They drop you in a clearing like you’re nothing.

You blink past blood.

Three people surround you. One woman crouches in front—built like a tank, arms tense, jaw tight.

You don’t know her.

But she knows you.

“Thought I’d find you eventually,” she says, voice sharp with venom. “Joel always did have a soft spot for strays.”

Your heart stutters.

Joel?

You push up on one elbow. “What… what the hell are you talking about?”

You try to move, but hands hold you down—two of her crew pinning your arms and legs.

“I was hoping for Joel,” she continues, crouching beside you, pulling out a knife. “But you… you’ll do.”

The knife kisses your cheek.

Then slices.

Not deep—but enough to sting. Enough to make you flinch.

Her jaw twitches.

She stands up and kicks you hard in the side. You scream as ribs snap like brittle twigs.

“You don’t get to play dumb,” she snarls. “You’re the girl from Jackson. His… what, girlfriend? Housemate? Fuck-buddy?”

You stare, mouth open, breath stuck. You don’t recognize her, but she’s looking at you like you killed someone she loved.

“I should kill you quick,” she says, pulling a hammer from her belt. “But that wouldn’t hurt him enough.”

You try to crawl backward. The others move to block you.

“I don’t know who you are,” you rasp.

She crouches beside you, grabbing your face roughly. “No, but I know you. And that’s enough. I’m gonna make sure when he sees you, he sees what he did.”

The first hit with the hammer doesn’t come down on your skull—it crashes into your leg. You scream.

She’s not trying to kill you.

She’s trying to destroy you.

Another hit. Another. Your vision blurs. Your shoulder is yanked backward until something tears. You cry out, choking.

She whispers things you can’t make sense of—“My father,” “hospital,” “he didn’t hesitate.”

None of it makes sense.

But all of it hurts.

Eventually, you stop fighting. You just breathe. Try to stay awake.

Then—

Gunfire.

A sharp crack, and one of the men drops.

Another shot—clean through the second’s chest. He collapses.

The woman—though you still don’t know her name—spins too late.

Jesse’s bullet hits her square in the chest.

She gasps, stumbles. Her hammer falls. One more shot and she hits the ground, lifeless.

When it’s over, the world is deathly still.

He rushes to you. You can’t even lift your head.

“Hey. Hey, I got you,” he whispers, falling to his knees, pressing his hands to your bleeding side. “Oh fuck, oh my god…”

You try to speak. Your lips barely move.

He leans in close.

“…Joel,” you breathe, tears mixing with blood. “Don’t let him… blame himself.”

Jesse shakes his head, panicking. “No. No, don’t talk like that. We’re gonna get you home.”

He shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around you, lifting you carefully into his arms. You scream—your shoulder’s dislocated—but he holds you like you’ll break. Because you will.

“Shhh, I know, I know,” Jesse pants, voice shaking. “It’s bad. It’s so bad. Just hold on.”

He starts running.

“I’m getting you back. I swear to God. I swear to God,” he pants, staggering toward the trees, back toward Jackson, covered in blood that isn’t just yours.

Behind you, she lies dead in the dirt.

But her legacy is carved into your skin.

And all you can do is close your eyes and hope he gets you there in time.

You never even got her name.

He hears the shouting before he sees the blood.

Joel’s just outside the stables when the gates open too fast—too loud. His head snaps up.

People are running. Someone yells for help. Maria’s voice barks orders from the tower. Joel drops the shovel in his hand and moves before he can think.

Then he sees Jesse.

And everything stops.

Jesse is soaked in blood. His arms are trembling. And in them, slumped and broken, is you.

Joel doesn’t recognize you at first.

Your head lolls back. Hair matted with blood. Face unrecognizable—swollen, bruised, sliced. There’s something wrong with the way your arm hangs, like it’s not attached right. One of your boots is gone. Your jacket is torn and soaked through.

Joel’s stomach drops. His vision narrows.

“No,” he hears himself whisper.

Jesse pushes through the crowd, shouting— “I need help! She’s still breathing! She’s alive!”

Joel moves to intercept, chest heaving, but Jesse shoves past him, too focused.

“Get outta the fuckin’ way—Maria! Get a goddamn stretcher!”

Joel follows, dazed. “What happened?” he croaks. “Jesse—what the fuck happened?!”

Jesse’s voice breaks. “They jumped her, man. Out past the old checkpoint. One of ‘em—she knew who she was. Said her name. Said your name.”

Joel goes still. The cold wraps around his spine.

“Who?” he demands.

Jesse doesn’t answer.

They reach the clinic. The doors slam open. Jackson’s medics rush forward, shouting over each other, hands everywhere, lifting you from Jesse’s arms and onto a gurney.

Joel sees your blood smear Jesse’s jacket.

“Ribs are broken—she’s lost a lot of blood—”

“Shoulder’s out—maybe punctured lung—”

“She’s going into shock—get the morphine now—”

Joel doesn’t hear the rest.

He’s stuck.

His boots feel nailed to the floor as the doors swing shut behind the gurney.

You’re gone. Out of his reach.

And he wasn’t there.

He always told himself he wouldn’t let it happen again—not to Ellie, not to Tommy, not to you.

But he did.

He let you go.

He let you go out there alone, and now you’re somewhere behind those doors fighting to stay alive because of something he did. Something he caused. A ghost from his past, lashing out in a way he never saw coming.

Jesse is breathing hard, leaning against the wall, blood on his face and hands.

“I shot her,” he mutters. “The woman. Whoever she was. I killed her. Killed the others too. But I—” he swallows. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

Joel can’t even respond. His throat won’t work. His hands are fists at his sides.

All he can do is stare at the closed doors, heart pounding like war drums.

You’re in there.

And he’s out here.

Alone.

Again.

The machines are the only things making noise.

Soft, steady beeps. A faint hiss of oxygen. The occasional rustle of gauze or plastic as the nurse changes your IV bag in silence. Joel barely hears any of it.

He hasn’t moved in hours.

He’s sitting beside your bed—hands clasped tight between his knees, boots planted on the cold floor, head down. Watching your chest rise and fall.

You look… barely human.

Your face is swollen on one side. Purple, green, black. Stitches across your temple. Your arm is bound to your side, shoulder reset. Tubes in your nose. Dried blood crusted beneath it. A faint line of bruises runs along your throat like a cruel necklace.

Joel stares at your hand resting on the sheets. There’s an IV in it. A splint along your wrist. He hasn’t touched it yet. He’s too afraid you’ll be cold.

Or worse, that you won’t squeeze back.

He swallows hard. His eyes sting. But he won’t cry.

Not here.

Not where people can see.

The room clears eventually. Nurses change shifts. Jesse came by once—left you a cup of water and a little stuffed bear someone gave him when he was in the clinic for a busted ankle. Joel didn’t say much.

He just waits. And watches.

And breaks.

He doesn’t talk out loud at first.

For the first few hours, Joel just sits in it. Lets the silence crawl under his skin and stay there. He thinks of everything he could’ve done differently. Should’ve done. Would’ve done—if he’d known.

Shouldn’t’ve let you go out alone.

Should’ve been the one on that route.

Should’ve recognized the signs.

Should’ve told you to stay.

Should’ve told you the fucking truth.

Eventually, the silence gets too loud, and the guilt starts to spill.

“I should’ve been out there,” he says, voice rough and too quiet. “You should’ve never been alone.”

You don’t move.

Joel glances at your face. You’re still far away. Too far.

“I think she was lookin’ for me,” he adds, words slow like he’s choking on each one. “The one Jesse killed. She said my name.”

He runs a hand over his face, jaw tight.

“I don’t know what I did to her. But I’ve done enough to enough people that it don’t matter. It always comes back around.”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees. For a second, he looks older than he’s ever felt. Like the weight of the whole damn world is back on his shoulders.

“I told myself I’d never let someone I love get hurt again,” he whispers. “Not like this. Not like Sarah. Not like Ellie. But here I am. Sittin’ in another fuckin’ hospital chair. Watchin’ you fight for your life.”

Joel swallows hard. His hands shake.

“You didn’t even know her name,” he says. “You got all that pain and blood for someone you didn’t even know.”

He finally reaches out and brushes your hand with the back of his fingers.

It’s warm.

Barely.

He’s trying to stay strong. Like he always does. For Tommy. For Ellie. For Jackson. For you.

But there’s a crack in him now—and it’s spreading.

He rubs a hand over his face for the fifth time in an hour, like he can scrub the emotions away if he just tries hard enough. But his breath catches when he looks at you again.

You’re so still.

Too still.

And he can’t stop seeing the blood. The way Jesse held your body like it might fall apart in his arms. The way your fingers didn’t move when Joel reached for them. The bruises. The silence. The stillness.

He blinks fast. Looks down. Jaw clenched so tight it hurts.

But then—

A sound slips out of him.

Small.

Involuntary.

Like a wounded animal.

He squeezes his eyes shut, like that’ll hold it in.

It doesn’t.

His chest heaves, and the breath that comes next is a sob.

Low. Broken. Shameful.

“Goddamn it,” he rasps, pressing the heel of his hand against his mouth. “Goddamn it…”

The tears come slow at first—hot and silent. Rolling down his face before he can stop them. He hides behind his hand, hunched over, shoulders shaking.

It’s not loud. Not the kind of crying that screams.

It’s the kind that hurts more because it doesn’t.

He leans forward, elbows on your bed, forehead resting gently near your arm.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, voice thick. “I should’ve been there. Should’ve known. You were just tryin’ to help. And I left you out there…”

Another sob claws its way out of his throat.

“I’m so goddamn tired of losin’ people,” he chokes. “But if I lose you—if you don’t wake up—I swear to God, I don’t think I’ll survive it this time.”

He breaks fully then. Quiet, ugly, aching. Like his soul is caving in on itself.

It’s been years since he cried like this. Since Sarah. Maybe not even then.

Because this time… he let himself love again. He let himself believe he could have something good. That maybe, just maybe, someone could love him back.

And now you’re lying here—broken, because of him.

He stays there, folded in on himself, for a long time.

Holding your hand.

Letting himself fall apart where no one else can see.

It starts with sound.

Dull and warped, like you’re underwater. You can’t tell what’s real—what’s dream or memory. There’s pressure in your head, a deep ache in your chest, and something burning in your shoulder every time you try to breathe too deep.

You want to move.

You can’t.

Everything is wrong.

You try to blink, but your eyelids feel like they’re glued shut. Even thinking is hard. Like someone filled your skull with cement and let it dry.

Voices blur in and out. Someone’s crying, maybe. Or maybe that was just you.

Then—

A voice cuts through the fog.

Rough. Southern. Familiar.

Low like gravel and thunder.

“…can’t do this again…”

You try to move toward it. Just a twitch. Just your fingers.

Nothing.

“…can’t lose her…”

Your heart trips in your chest.

You know that voice.

Joel.

God—Joel.

You try to say his name, but your throat won’t cooperate. It’s raw. Like you swallowed glass.

More words. Barely audible. Like he’s talking to himself.

“…should’ve never let her go alone…”

There’s something about the way he says it—like he’s crumbling. Like he’s been holding himself together by nothing but spit and string and your heartbeat. You can feel it in the air. The weight of him. Heavy. Exhausted.

You blink again.

This time, your eyes open a sliver.

The room is dark. Dim light from a lamp in the corner. The shadows are soft. The world is blurry, like it’s behind a veil.

Joel is sitting beside your bed, hunched over with one hand pressed to his face. Shoulders shaking just slightly.

He doesn’t see you looking.

You try again. Just a whisper. Just his name.

“J…Joel…”

It’s barely sound. More like a breath shaped around a memory.

But he hears it.

His head jerks up. Eyes wild.

“Hey—hey, hey,” he breathes, scrambling to sit forward. “You—you awake? Baby, can you hear me?”

You manage a twitch of your fingers. Barely.

He lets out a noise like relief and agony all tangled together. One hand cups the side of your face, trembling like he can’t believe you’re real.

“You’re alright. You’re here. Jesus Christ…” He sucks in a breath like it hurts.

You blink again. His face is red, tear-streaked. His beard’s thicker than you remember. His eyes look like he hasn’t slept in days.

Your lips part.

“You okay?” you rasp, barely audible.

Joel lets out a sharp exhale that’s half a sob, half a laugh.

“Am I—? No, darlin’. Don’t ask me that,” he says, brushing your hair back from your forehead so, so gently. “You’re the one lyin’ in a goddamn hospital bed lookin’ like you got trampled by a fuckin’ truck. You askin’ me if I’m okay…”

Your eyes flutter. You want to smile, but it hurts.

“Didn’t mean to worry you,” you whisper, a flicker of humor in your broken voice.

Joel closes his eyes like that hurts worse than anything else.

“You didn’t worry me. You near killed me,” he murmurs. “Don’t say sorry. Not to me.”

You shift slightly—just enough to let the pain remind you it’s all real. The weight of your body. The ache in your bones. The bruises singing beneath your skin.

The flashes come in bits and pieces— The dirt. The hammer. Her voice.

You shiver.

Joel notices. He wraps his hand around yours instantly, warm and grounding.

“She’s dead,” he says, like he can read your mind. “Jesse shot her. She won’t hurt you again.”

You blink, slow.

“I didn’t… even know her,” you whisper.

Joel nods, jaw tight. “But she knew you. Knew me. That’s all it took.”

Silence falls again. You can feel your body begging you to sleep—but you don’t want to. Not yet. Not while he’s here.

Joel leans in closer. His voice drops.

“I love you,” he says, rough and low, like it’s been sitting on his tongue for years. “You hear me?”

You blink slowly. Nod once.

“I love you, too,” you rasp, and it hurts—but it’s worth it just to see the way his eyes close like he’s praying.

He presses your hand to his mouth and stays there. Quiet. Breathing with you.

You fall asleep with his fingers laced through yours, the echo of his voice still in your ear.

And this time, you know you’ll wake up again.

Because Joel’s here.

And he’s not letting go.

The days bleed together at first.

Morning and night don’t mean much when your body refuses to do even the simplest things. Breathing hurts. Talking drains you. Moving? Feels impossible.

Still—Joel is always there.

He helps you sit up the first time, cradling your spine like it might splinter in his hands.

You cry. Not from pain—but from the humiliation of it. Of being this weak. This… broken.

“Hey,” he murmurs, brushing tears from your cheeks before they fall. “You ain’t broken. Just healing. There’s a difference.”

You don’t believe him, not yet.

It takes a week before they let you leave the clinic. Joel argues to bring you home earlier, but the nurses insist on waiting until your fever passes and your oxygen holds steady.

When they finally wheel you out in a battered chair, Joel’s already waiting on the porch with a blanket, a flask of weak tea, and that look in his eyes—the one that never left from the moment he saw Jesse carrying you in.

Wrecked. Quiet. Protective.

He carries you inside like he’s afraid the wind might steal you away.

You sleep in his bed.

He insists.

“Only place in the house that don’t creak,” he grumbles.

He sits with you through the worst of it.

The fever sweats hit first—cold and sudden, leaving your body trembling under damp sheets while your teeth chatter like glass. Joel is always there before you even call out. A towel in one hand, a water cup in the other, his voice low and steady as he presses cool cloths to your forehead.

When the spasms start—violent jerks that rip through your legs, your healing ribs—he doesn’t flinch. Just slips his hand beneath your shoulder blades, murmuring your name over and over like it might steady your spine.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, voice like warm gravel. “I got you. I got you, sweetheart.”

Some nights, you wake screaming.

No build-up. No warning.

Just full-body panic, lungs dragging in air like you’re drowning, fingers clawing at invisible restraints. You don’t know where you are. Can’t tell what’s real. You think the hammer’s still coming down. You think the dirt’s still in your mouth. You think you’re still dying.

And Joel—he’s already there.

“Hey, hey—it’s just me,” he says, voice low, hands up like he’s approaching a wounded animal. “You’re home, baby. You’re safe. I got you.”

You sob. You shake. You try to get the words out, but your throat won’t work.

So he climbs into bed behind you, pulls you back against his chest, and just holds you—one hand wrapped around your middle, the other cradling your hand against his heart.

You cry until your body gives out. Until all that’s left is soft hiccups and a shaking breath that finally, finally goes still.

Other nights, it’s worse in its quiet.

You don’t scream.

You just… tremble.

Eyes open, unfocused. Breath shallow. Hands clenched in the sheets so tight your knuckles go white. Frozen in place like your mind’s trapped somewhere your body can’t follow.

Joel notices right away.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just slides into the bed, lays on his side, and touches your back—light and slow, letting you feel the weight of his palm so you remember where you are.

“You with me?” he whispers, after a while.

You nod.

But then the whisper comes, cracked and pitiful, over and over again like a broken record:

“I didn’t know her. I didn’t know why.”

Joel squeezes his eyes shut, face buried in your hair.

Every time you say it, it cuts deeper. Not because you’re admitting something—but because you’re still carrying it. Still shouldering it.

He holds you tighter.

“I know,” he always says. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”

And it’s not just for what happened. Not just for the pain, or the bruises, or the sleepless nights.

He’s sorry for letting you walk out that gate.

He’s sorry for not telling you about his past. About the ghosts that still walk, still kill, still reach for the people he loves.

He’s sorry he wasn’t the one who took that beating.

And if he could take it from you—every scream, every scar, every ounce of fear—you know he would.

You feel it in the way he holds you.

Like you’re something he’s not just afraid to lose—

But something he knows he doesn’t deserve, and still begs the universe to spare.

Recovery isn’t linear.

It’s a jagged, crawling thing—three steps forward, two steps back, and a whole lot of days where it feels like you’re going nowhere at all.

You’re angry. A lot.

At your body, for not doing what it used to. For aching with every movement. For stiff joints and a limp you can’t shake. For how the skin around your shoulder pulls where the sutures were. For how even breathing sometimes feels like a betrayal.

But mostly, you’re angry at your face.

The first time you see it clearly in the mirror, you can’t look for more than a second.

The swelling is down now, but the bruises are stubborn. Deep. Sickly yellow in some places, dark red in others. One scar stretches along your temple in a jagged, cruel arc. Another bisects the curve of your lip.

You touch the stitches near your jaw with shaking fingers.

You barely recognize the reflection.

You drop the mirror on the counter and leave the room. You don’t talk for the rest of the night.

Joel notices. Of course he does.

But he doesn’t push.

He never does.

When you snap at him for standing too close, he just nods and gives you space. When you burst into tears halfway through trying to button a shirt, he wordlessly takes over—finishing each button with patient fingers and no pity in his eyes.

He carries you to the bathroom when you’re too weak to walk. Sits on the floor while you shower with your back to him, hands braced against the tile as the hot water runs over scars you don’t want anyone to see.

But he never stares. Never comments.

When you nearly collapse trying to shave your legs, you snap, “This is fucking pointless, Joel!”

He just gently eases the razor out of your hand and says, “Ain’t nothin’ pointless ‘bout feelin’ like yourself.”

And when you do finally cry into his chest again, fists clenched tight in his shirt, he just holds you and lets you fall apart.

“You don’t have to be okay every second,” he murmurs into your hair. “Just let me carry some of it when you can’t.”

He reads to you at night.

Old books. Short stories. Sometimes old letters he found in a busted file cabinet out near the edge of town—ones he thinks you might like. You fall asleep most nights to the sound of his voice and the weight of his hand resting over yours.

One day, weeks into your recovery, you catch your reflection by accident.

It’s late. You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth slowly, shoulders aching from using the cane all day. You glance up—and there you are.

Scarred. Pale. Tired.

Not you.

You stare at your reflection for a long time, toothbrush hanging loose from your hand.

Then you step out into the bedroom, where Joel’s sitting on the edge of the bed, unlacing his boots.

“Do I still look like me?” you ask, voice small. Barely audible.

Joel doesn’t even hesitate.

He looks up. Straight at you. And his expression is… soft. But unflinching.

“You look like the woman I was gonna spend the rest of my life with,” he says, steady and sure. “You still do.”

Your breath hitches. Your lips part—but no words come out.

He stands, steps closer, careful like he always is now.

“You think those scars make you look less like you?” he asks gently, brushing your hair behind your ear. “'Cause all I see is you. Braver than anyone I’ve ever known.”

You look away. “You’re just saying that.”

Joel cups your face, thumb brushing just below the old bruise near your cheekbone.

“I ain’t never just said anything to you in my life,” he murmurs. “And I sure as hell ain’t startin’ now.”

Tears burn behind your eyes.

You don’t try to stop them.

He pulls you in close, and you let yourself be held—not because you’re weak. But because you’re strong enough now to know that being held doesn’t mean broken.

You’re healing.

Slowly.

But you’re still you.

And Joel sees all of it.

It’s a few weeks after you come home when Jesse finally stops by.

He knocks once—three quick raps, casual, almost sheepish—then pushes open the front door like he’s done a thousand times before.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, Joel’s sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, your cane resting against the chair leg. There’s a blanket around your legs and a mug of tea gone cold beside your hand.

When you see Jesse, you try to smile.

“Hey, hero.”

He raises an eyebrow. “If I’m the hero in this story, we’re all fucked.”

You let out a soft laugh, which still pulls at your side. “Don’t sell yourself short. You saved my life.”

Jesse walks in with a brown paper bag clutched in one hand. “Brought you that soup you like. From the new kitchen down by the stables.”

You blink. “The mushroom one?”

He sets it in front of you. “You think I didn’t memorize your post-patrol cravings after all this time?”

You go quiet. The steam rises between you.

Jesse leans against the counter, arms crossed.

“You look better,” he says finally. “Still a little like a raccoon with PTSD, but you know… cuter.”

You snort. “You always did know how to charm a girl.”

The silence after stretches. Thicker. He doesn’t look at you at first—just stares at the edge of the table.

So you say it.

“I never thanked you.”

His jaw flexes. He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I mean it, Jesse. You… you showed up when I thought no one would. You put a bullet in her without hesitating. You carried me back. You—”

“I said don’t.”

You stop.

Jesse finally lifts his eyes to yours. His voice is lower now. Calmer, but shaking just underneath.

“Don’t thank me for doing what anyone who loved you would’ve done,” he says. “That wasn’t brave. That was… reacting. I saw what she was doing to you and I just—” He swallows. “I didn’t even think. I just fired.”

You blink, watching his hands clench into fists against his arms.

He exhales hard through his nose and looks away.

“I’ve never been that scared in my life,” he mutters. “Not even during the outbreak. Not even when the infected rushed us last winter. Nothing’s ever scared me like seeing you lying there, not moving.”

You’re quiet.

“I thought I was too late,” he says.

You shift in your seat. “You weren’t.”

His eyes meet yours again, darker now. “Joel didn’t talk for two days after. Did you know that?”

You shake your head slowly.

“Just sat there. Outside the clinic. Hands covered in your blood.” Jesse’s voice goes rough again. “I brought him water. He didn’t drink it. Brought him food. He didn’t touch it. I think if you had… if you hadn’t woken up—”

He stops. Runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re the only reason Joel didn’t break entirely,” he finishes.

You feel that. In your ribs. In your throat. In the parts of you that are still learning how to beat again.

Jesse looks at you for a long time, then pushes off the counter.

“So yeah. Don’t thank me.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“But…” he adds, more softly now, “you’re welcome anyway.”

He gives you a half-smile, ruffles your hair gently, and starts to head out.

At the door, he pauses and glances over his shoulder.

“You ever wanna talk about it… about her, or anything… I’m around.”

“I know,” you say.

And you do.

The world doesn’t stop hurting.

But it gets softer.

Months pass. Slowly. Some days feel like entire winters packed into the space between breakfast and sleep. But your body grows stronger. The cane becomes more accessory than necessity. The ache in your ribs dulls. You walk without flinching. You sleep without screaming.

You live.

One breath at a time.

Joel never leaves. He gives you space when you need it, patience when you can’t ask for it, and love in the quiet, steady way he does everything — with his whole damn soul, hidden behind a low voice and calloused hands.

You find yourself falling in love with him all over again, this version of him that isn’t trying to be a hero. Just a man.

Your man.

Spring comes early that year.

The snow thaws, the streams swell, and Jackson begins to bloom again — cautious and slow, like it’s remembering how.

That’s when Joel shows it to you.

He doesn’t tell you where you’re going—just helps you onto one of the horses and rides beside you for twenty quiet minutes, down a path behind the eastern fields.

You’re confused at first. Until you reach the end.

A clearing.

A hand-built bench nestled beneath a twisted old tree, branches just beginning to bud green again. A stream runs past it, water glittering in the afternoon light.

The view is breathtaking—wide and open, far from town. It smells like fresh grass and wild mint.

You slide off the horse slowly and limp toward it, one hand bracing against your thigh.

“You made this?” you ask, turning back.

Joel nods, standing with his thumbs tucked in his belt. “Started workin’ on it when you were still in the clinic.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, looking away like he’s embarrassed.

“Needed a place to talk to you. Where it was quiet.”

You sit down on the bench. It creaks under your weight, but it’s sturdy. Comfortable.

Joel lowers himself beside you and pulls something from his coat pocket.

A leather journal.

Worn edges. Filled thick with pages.

You frown. “What’s that?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just presses it into your hands.

You open the cover slowly.

The first page is dated the night Jesse brought you home, soaked in blood.

March 4th. She’s not waking up. I can’t stop thinking about what her last thought was. Was it me?

Your breath catches.

You flip to the next.

March 5th. She always hated the silence at night. I’m talking out loud to her anyway. Told her the whole story of how I saw her at the market the first time. I think I talked for an hour. If she can hear me, I hope she knows how beautiful she is, even now.

Page after page. Memories. Guilt. Confessions. Anger. Fear.

He wrote you letters he never planned to send. Pieces of himself you never knew he could give.

There’s a page with lyrics. Half-remembered ones.

"If I could save time in a bottle…"

The ink is darker there. Blotted in places. You realize he was crying when he wrote it.

Your hands tremble.

“Why give me this now?” you whisper.

Joel leans forward, elbows on his knees, voice low and steady.

“‘Cause I spent too long not sayin’ the things that mattered. You damn near died with me never tellin’ you half of ‘em.”

He looks over at you, eyes full of something raw and terrifyingly real.

“I wrote all that down ‘cause I didn’t think I’d get another chance. But I did. And I ain’t gonna waste a second of it.”

You blink back tears and look down at the last page.

Just two lines.

If I could save time in a bottle… I’d save every second I wasted not telling you how much I love you.

You close the journal and hold it to your chest.

Joel watches you for a moment. Then reaches out and takes your hand.

You let him.

The two of you sit in silence—shoulder to shoulder, fingers laced—listening to the stream and the wind in the trees.

And for the first time in a long time—

You don’t feel haunted.

You feel held.

AN: if you made it all the way here… first of all, I love you. second, I hope your heart is okay. this one meant a lot to me — I wanted to write something that felt like grief and healing holding hands, and Joel just being there in the most Joel way possible. soft hands, steady love, long recovery.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏼🫶🏼

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with-my-calamitous-love · 11 months ago

Text

HE SAW FOREVER SO HE SMASHED IT UP

katsuki bakugou x reader

the times bakugou broke your heart

heavily inspired by mbobhft

1) the denial

“are we breaking up?”

“…yeah.”

“oh.”

his reasons made sense. he had a job, a goal, a burning drive to prove himself as the best. he was burnt out, his fingers worked to the bones. he couldn’t give you not just what you wanted, but what you needed. and that killed him more than it did you.

it made sense. the gears turned. the writing was on paper. like almost everything he did, it worked out. of course it worked out for katsuki bakugou- he’s the best.

it wasn’t all that set in stone for you, however.

he could have given you a million more reasons before the tears spilled. “i’m an asshole.” true. “i don’t treat you right.” fair. “you deserve so much fuckin’ better, [y/n.]” yeah, he was right.

but you always liked to challenge the acceptable.

at first, it didn’t hit you as hard as you thought it would. you walked through your room, too numb to pay mind to the tears that rolled down your cheeks, and silently packed up his sweaters into a box. the necklace he gave you, the ‘k’ pendant, came off your neck like a butterfly lands on a branch, knowing that its death is inevitable and doing nothing to stop it.

at night, you cried, and cried, and cried. you called him about 27 times. he never answered. he texted you to make sure you were okay, but your tear-blurred eyes kept you from seeing the keyboard clearly. you left him on seen and prayed that he was worried, prayed that his heart would explode at your lack of an answer, prayed to god that he would come over just to check on. suffice to say your prayers were left unanswered.

you thought he’d call. but he didn’t. but your soul remained devoted, eyes glued to your phone screen and hands shaking. he has to call. he has to tell you goodnight. he has to tell you that you’re an idiot. he has to tell you he loves you. he’s going too, idiot.

right?

2) the anger

if he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just say?

your heart burned for anger. for salvation. for revenge. you knew katsuki bakugou knew anger well, but he had no idea the way your soul flared like a whole new depth of hell.

you laid in bed, awake, eyes excruciatingly drive from crying your tear ducts may as well have been burnt off. memories of him haunted your brain while your fists tightened.

you regretted giving him your heart. your love. your late nights and early mornings. your fights, your passions, your 2ams and your smiles. you hated the way you let him draw the laughter out of you, how he showed parts of himself to you he had never shown anyone.

and those little things that made up your love, he was going to use on someone else. you knew it.

he was going to cook them his special fried rice his mom taught him how to do. he was going to teach them how to punch because he doesn’t want them to get hurt- something he did for you. he was going kiss them how he kissed you, love them in a way that should have only been you.

but he shouldn’t. in fact, he should look back at what you had, and regret every. single. thing. he did to let is end. he should regret everything he didn’t do to keep you. he should burn alive from guilt. scream. cry. fight for his life while his body is doused in gasoline. attempt miserably to tear the fire off his skin while it burned him to a crisp. he should die screaming.

he should deserved it, after all. because he heard your screams, and put his headphones on.

3) the bargaining

please. you wailed. who do i have to talk to? what do i have to do to get him back!?

you suddenly thought of so many scenarios in your head, scenarios fuelled by false hope. things you’d do to kiss him one last time, to hold him, to love him and be loved by him. you’d dry the ocean water. you’d turn stones into gold. you’d bring him to heaven and back. you’d get out of bed. you’d compromise more. you wouldn’t forget to kiss him. you’d love him. you’d love him so much harder. please.

suddenly everything seemed possible. if someone answered your calls, if someone made a deal with you, you’d offer up everything. you were sure you’d place everything on the line for him. you want it all back- his yelling, his snark, his nicknames, his attitude, his everything- no, your everything. you’d pluck out your own eyes for his red ones, or your heart for his heroic soul that loved you brighter than anyone else. being loved by katsuki bakugou was something you wouldn’t trade for anything- turns out you couldn’t trade it either.

4) the depression

everything smelled like him. your sheets blossomed into his sweet, burnt scent, the one that he’d leave behind whenever he slept over simply because he left you. all your jackets felt like his chiseled arms, wrapped around you as if you’d be gone in a moments notice. his voice was everywhere. the songs on the radio, the words you read on your phone, and the memories that played like your favourite movie soundtrack.

you wondered if he knew you couldn’t get out of bed. sometimes you imagined him calling your ass lazy, and then dragging you out of bed with a kiss to your forehead and a breakfast he cooked for you. maybe then you’d rip off the sheets and face the day. but right now, your bed was the only place you could mourn.

it was cruel, in a sense. letting you fall in love with him only to leave. letting you fall in love with his stupid smug smirk, his laugh, his teasing, his anger, his unreasonable handsomeness, his millions of pet peeves and trigger words, his clinginess, his distance, his days and nights, ups and downs, his hate and love all tied into one. he made you love him, knowing you would never get to love another katsuki bakugou.

5) the acceptance

acceptance was bakugou realizing how badly he fucked up.

part 2 soon!

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s0s1mple · 1 month ago

Note

hii, yesyes i read your niki fic with arranged marriage trope! but i think they were royals in that? maybe this time normal people? or mafia? whatever you want it to be!

Absolutely! So a modern setting, got it!

Payment - Nishimura Riki

TW: general yandere themes, humans as payment, extortion, financial threats, death threats

Masterlist

Your family was in debt. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Your dad was supposed to take care of your family, was supposed to have given you a secure life, was supposed to have made that business he borrowed money for work.

Your elder sister was a commodity. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Your dad was supposed to fight tooth and nail so your sister didn’t have to belong to some jackass mafia member. Your sister wasn’t supposed to be crying as she packed her things in preparation for the final hand off. Your sister wasn’t supposed to be comforting your dad because really, he wanted to fight for her. But he had to think of you, your mother, and your baby brother. It was the last thing he could do to protect everyone from his mistake, and your sister had even bitten the bullet to help as well.

That was why you all were walking into a restaurant far too nice to be so empty, walking back into the back room, all of you carrying the belongings you hoped your sister would be able to keep. Guards stood like statues at the doorway to the private dining area, only giving a passing glance at your drawn faces before knowing exactly why you were there. In you went to see six people before you.

The head of the mafia branch your family had failed to pay off sat there at the table, a steaming cup of tea before him. Next to him was a much younger male, about your age, with probably the most bored yet predatory gaze you’d ever seen. Guards stood in each corner of the room too, guns at their belts. You felt like a child all over again as you instinctively settled behind your father, using his shoulders and back as a shield. Your sister, though, stood tall and as proud as she could.

You hated the realization you might never see such a brave person in your life again.

Silently, you all set down your boxes. The younger male’s eyes flickered to the wedding veil- your grandmother’s veil- poking out of one of them. He scoffed, eyes flickering up to your sister’s. He was the first to break the silence. “What, you think there’s gonna be some big wedding? This is just a contract. You’re not important.” His tone wasn’t malicious, but it was certainly derogatory.

“Riki.” His father spoke up, voice tired and firm. Riki shot him an icy glare.

“What? You’re the one requiring I have a spouse to take over, aren’t you? Just lift the tradition and I won’t have to have someone I don’t even love hanging off my arm.”

“Don’t be ungrateful.” The notion of the person actively choosing to ruin your family’s lives over money he had coffers full of trying to instill some sort of fucked up moral in his son was laughable. It was bizarre. Riki seemed to think the same, judging by his incredulous laugh. He tapped his nails on the table, sharp eyes turning right back to your sister’s form.

“Don’t look at me like I’m the one hurting you. Both of us are prisoners if I have to marry someone like you.” He said dryly, lips curling in apparent disdain.

You felt anger slam into you. Here was your sister, giving herself up willingly to help save your family from financial annihilation and potential death, and he was acting like this was a worse situation for him. You glared at him over your father’s shoulder, your father having angled his elbow into your stomach to silence the retort you had on your tongue. It was a silent, warning gesture.

This is bad enough, don’t make it worse.

So you stayed quiet, but it was as if Riki sensed your ire. His dark gaze snapped suddenly to yours through his bangs, and you felt like screaming at him and cowering away all at once.

His tapping stopped.

Then his head tilted, following his gaze to more firmly face you. All of a sudden, the rage was flooding out of you and giving way to a sort of dread that clawed at your insides. “Who’re you?” His voice wasn’t disdainful anymore. Just curious. And curious was terrifying.

Your father angled his body to hide you better. “Nobody. Let’s sign the contract.” Your sister nodded, stepping forward to take the seat in front of the two males. She was as elegant as ever, as if she was unbothered by everything. It made your heart clench.

“No. Answer me. Who are you?” Riki’s hand came up in a dismissive gesture, stopping your sister in her tracks. His eyes didn’t leave you.

“My other child. Can we- can we just sign the deal?” You could hear the worry in your father’s voice. You looked away from Riki, hoping it would curb his interest, but you could feel his stare like a brand. There was a long pause only broken by the sound of the chair scraping as it was pulled out. Before your sister could take a seat, though, he spoke up again.

“I want that one.” It was said so casually, with a sort of entitlement that left little else to discussion. The entire room felt like it froze. Your throat went dry and you looked up tentatively. Riki’s lips curled into a half-smile as he got your attention again. You didn’t know how, but that too-genuine looking smile of his was more terrifying than anything you’d ever seen.

“We- No- we already came to an agreement-!” Your mother was the one who spoke up, silent up until now.

“Is the contract signed or not?” Riki challenged, waving the piece of paper about like some sort of trophy. His smile stretched just a little wider, head tilting, like there was something amusing in seeing my family stutter and protest.

“You can’t just-“

“I’m not signing shit if it’s her who signs the contract.” Riki said, palm cradling his jaw. He shot a look utterly devoid of care at your sister. Before, there was a disdain and disgust. All of a sudden, though, it was just apathy. Then his eyes were back on you again, and just as suddenly his gaze was filled with emotions you couldn’t quite place. Intrigue, entitlement, hunger… his brow arched as the silence continued. His father eyed him carefully, judging his expression.

“You made a deal for one of your offspring and didn’t specify who. You want this paid? Do what my son says.” The leader said, tone detached and formal. Your sister was immediately irate.

“No. Deal’s off.” She hissed. She slammed the chair back into place and whipped around to gather us all up to leave. “We’ll find a way to make the money back, dad. We’re not playing their games.”

“This isn’t about money, you know.” Riki drawled suddenly. “This was about finding a convenient way for me to fulfill the requirements to become a proper heir.” It was dismissive. You were just a means to an end. Your face twitched in anger.

“Then find another family-“

“You refuse this and money won’t be the payment anymore. I want you.” Riki slowly stood, a lean and towering figure. He slid the contract forward, smiling that too-pleased smile the instant your gaze landed on him again. “Either sign it or the new payment is blood.”

His father watched, brow arched. Seemingly, this behavior was new to even him. But he didn’t intervene, just quietly taking a sip of his tea. There was a pregnant pause, the air tense. The guards seemed alert now, like their fingers were ready to pull the trigger the instant they were told. You swallowed thickly as your sister and father began pleading for them not to do this, your mother clutching your arm and quietly sobbing.

You made a decision. Trying to be as confident as your sister, you pulled your arm from your mother’s grasp and took an abrupt seat at the table.

“Don’t-!”

You scrawled your name in heavy-handed ink, the pen nib ground into the paper harshly. Then you shoved the paper back at Riki. Riki stared at the paper, then at you, eyes like hot brands as his face shifted from one of intrigued amusement to open glee. Like a child getting the toy they wanted. His eyes crinkled and he slid the paper over to his father. Then he was walking around the table towards you with easy, relaxed steps. Your sister stalked forward to try and act as a shield, but the click of a gun had her stopping in place. You tried to steel yourself as he came to a stop in front of you.

He grabbed the lip of one of the boxes your sister had set on the table. “What’s your favorite cake?” He asked suddenly. You were silent for a long moment, bewildered.

“What?” You finally whispered.

“Your favorite flavor of cake. What is it? I like chocolate, personally.” He hummed. Riki grabbed the same veil he’d been callously disregarding earlier. You wanted to rip it from his hands and place it right back in the ancient cupboard your grandfather had carved for your grandmother where it belonged. He held it up to your face, tilting his head as he observed you. “We’ll need to do some cake tasting for the wedding… I’m thinking a black and white themed event? Keep things elegant.” It was like he was already there, his gaze thoughtful as he ran through preparations. The change in attitude was so abrupt, so out of the blue, as he mumbled about catering in the vague direction of his father.

“What the hell are you talking about? You don’t want a wedding and neither do I! The contract is signed, so let’s just do what it says and ignore each other for the rest of our lives.” You finally speak up, voice hurried and obviously tinged with rage. He just smiles that pleased, borderline happy smile again, laugh lines appearing like they were mocking you.

“You speak!” He cheers softly. “Your voice is so nice…”

“Would you stop acting like that?”

“Like what?” He tilts his head almost innocently, like he can’t hear the sobs of your family behind you. “Like I’m happy for the wedding? Because I am. I’m getting to marry you, aren’t I?”

You splutter, bewildered and incredulous, that creeping dread back in full force. “You don’t even fucking know me!”

“But I will. Besides, you really think I’d ask for you so specifically if there wasn’t a reason?” All of a sudden he was stepping forward, encroaching into your space, staring down at you. You felt like he should be looking at you like a roach, like you were beneath him, but his gaze was eerily warm. “Ever heard of the phrase ‘ichigo, ichie?’” Again, his question felt sudden. Your nose wrinkled.

“No.” You tentatively responded, voice still heated.

“It means a ‘once-in-a-lifetime encounter.’” He hums. Riki reaches down, and you balk as he grabs your hand. His touch his gentle despite his calloused palms and long fingers, far too gentle for the type of person you know he is. Almost like handling fine china. Your palm is pressed to his chest, right over his heart. Personally, you don’t feel anything through the thick fabric of his clothes. Personally, you attribute that to his lack of heart.

“Let go of-“

“Can you feel it? My heart started pounding when I saw you.” His voice is murmured now, reverent in an unnerving way, a tone of voice nobody should ever have for someone they’ve just met. It’s the sort of emotion that you personally feel warrants an immediate trip to the psyche ward. The fact that it’s aimed right at you sends a shiver down your spine. “Everything’s boring these days… but you? You’re not.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re pretty.” The simple response has you firmly shoving at his chest to move him away, has a gun clocking, and Riki’s immediate reaction isn’t to reprimand you but to tug you along and pull you right into his arms. His cheek pressed to your hair, he sighs almost dreamily. “You can go, you know. You’re not needed anymore.” For a moment you’re confused until you realize he’s addressing your family. You shove at his stomach this time, but he’s like a boulder. Immovable.

Your family protests, of course. Then they yell and fight as the guards grab them harshly, pulling them from the room, and you call out after them, screaming that you love them. Before you know it, you’re crying into the chest you’re pressed against. Riki coos, fingers clutching at your cheeks as he pulls back to look at you.

“God, you’re even pretty when you cry…”

“Fuck you.” You choke out, glaring blearily at him. He just presses a kiss to your forehead, giggling lightly like you’re joking or playing around. He looks like the happiest man alive all of a sudden, like a mask has slipped away as soon as your family left, and more tears slip down your cheeks as you realize his expression mimics the expression you always dreamed your future lover would have when looking at you.

But this feels perverse. Feels dark. Insidious. Far too interested, far too appraising, far too loving for the situation.

“That comes later, babe. How about we just sort your wedding dress for now, huh?” His fingers pinch lightly at your cheeks. “Ah, I’m just so glad you’re mine. I’ll never let you go, you know. I’d rather rip my heart out.” A small pause, and then he speaks again with a toothy smile.

“Or someone else’s.”

#reqs open #enhypen #enha #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #yandere #yandere enha #yandere enhypen x reader #oneshot #x reader #yandere riki nishimura #riki nishimura x reader #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #yandere niki #enhypen niki #niki x reader #ni ki #request

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sukunas-wife · 1 year ago

Note

HI OML I LIVE UR WORKS THEY MAKE ME BAWL MY EYES OUT AH 😭

can you please do sukuna reader and yuji going in the caffe and yuji trying hot chocolate for the first time ?

i literally live you so much <3

🥹 ILL DO IT DO IT FOR BABY YUJI

“What the hell, why?” Sukuna eyed you suspicious of your question.

“Ryomen Sukuna-” covering your toddlers ears you gave his dad a look. “You walk around shirtless with four arms and two faces at 8 foot whatever everyday, I’m just asking you to down size and lose the second pair of arms for maybe 2 hours.”

Sukuna grumbled crossing his arms over his chest taking his son when he reached out for his dad “Shame I’m the only one who walks around shirtless in this house.” Holding Yuji on one arm the ruffled his boys hair, “What do you say brat? Do we go do whatever your mom wants or do we rip our shirts off?”

“Shirts!” Yuji screamed immediately trying to rip his shirt to copy his already shirtless dad. “That’s my boy!” Sukuna cheered him on when he managed to tear the hem slightly, “We don’t wanna go, two against one remember that parable or something you read a cord of 2 or whatever.” Sukuna turned away from your cold glare propping Yuji on his shoulder “It’s not like we really belong in public anyways.”

You huffed, looking down, sniffling, the tears burning your eyes as they start to roll and you took a shaky breath “Ryo please, I just wanted to spend some time with you and Yuji at the cafe where I first saw you. Yuji hasn’t seen the city and I just wanted one maybe two hours of your time but you won’t even do that..” your shoulders shaking as you tried to not cry, Yuji who was piggy backing on his dad’s broad shoulders pulled his hair “You made mommy cry!”

Sukuna rolled his eyes sighing heavily, “crying won’t solve your problems y/n, I said no.” Yuji pouted tugging he dad hair as if they were reigns to a horse, “daddyyy” he whined and leaned over his dads head to look at him.

Sukuna huffed before trying to gently flip his brat onto the bed “Stop you’re not helping.” Yuji giggled before running over to you, wedging his body between your knees to hug your waist, “It’s okay mommy we can still go, daddy doesn’t have too.” You sniffled rubbing Yuji’s back, “My sweet little Yuji.” Your teary eyes broke Sukuna when he finally looked at you, “FINE. Im killing anyone who gets in my way.” You smiled standing up and taking Yuji’s hand, “Good we’ll be waiting at the entrance.” You placed a quick kiss on Sukuna’s cheek and he just looked at you in disbelief, “You turned my own blood on me with your fanciful tears, disgusting.” He side eyed you as you closed the room door not hearing or seeing him smirk “What a woman.”

He stood there before calling for Uraume to come get his robes ready, he’d be needing smaller attire for the day.

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to alter his appearance. He stood in a simple wide armed white Robe with a printed belt and plain scarf. On his shoulders was a giggling Yuji who kept reaching up to the passing branches his chubby hands smacking Sakura branches making them shake and fall. On the occasion step Sukuna would purposely shake him to make him hold tighter and scream. You’d smile watching until you got to the city, “let’s hurry! It’s just before lunch.” You hugged Sukuna’s arm, looking up at him with that damn smile, he caved “Hold on brat.”Yuji immediately gripped tightly to his dad’s hair as Sukuna hoisted you up, “I’ll make this quick.”

It felt like a breeze to before you refocused and Sukuna was already putting you down keeping Yuji on his shoulders. “Down.” Yuji bounced on his dad’s shoulders. “No, if I put you down you’re just going to run around.” You smiled at Sukuna placing a hand on his arm, “Sit down with him Ryo I’ll do everything else.” Sukuna looked at you with his usual resting face that looked like a frown, Yuji unknowingly matting his dad’s hair while he played with it. Sukuna caved leaving your side to sit in a corner booth away from everyone, he crossed his arms over his chest after he put Yuji down to sit next to him. Yuji smacked his hands on the table “daddy!” “Hm.” Looking down at his son “That’s man’s talking to mommy!” He stood up in the bench one chubby hand smacked on the table the other chubby finger pointing at a man talking to you, “That’s the cashier brat.” “…. oh…. WHAT ABOUT HIM!” He pointed to man who was now talking to you, you had a forced smile and almost a sympathetic look, “Go bite him.”

There went Yuji throwing himself under the table running to fight his dad’s battles, “for daddy!” Was all you heard before you watched the man in front of you yelp and shake his leg, looking down you saw Yuji clinging to the man’s pant, jaw locked on his thigh almost growling. “Yuji.” You forced back your smile coughing to cover a laugh. “Baby let go.” He side eyed you when you grabbed his sides and he let go, standing up you held Yuji’s hand, “Like I said this is my son and that’s my husband.” The man turned to find Sukuna staring at hin with more than an intimidating look, “forgive me.” The man bowed his left and quickly moved off, you smiled down at Yuji ruffling his messy hair, “My little knight in shining armor hm?” He puffed out his chest smiling “yeah!”

After you grabbed your tray with drinks and let Yuji carry the paper bag of sweets you ordered, you made your way to the booth where Sukuna was staring aimlessly out the window. Watching as Yuji slid into your side of the booth you set the drinks down, “Black coffee with 6 packs of sugar,” you turned to Yuji smiling pulling him into your lap “I got you some special, the waitress has to bring it okay?” He nodded “okay!” He still hadn’t let go of the paper bag Sukuna had been silently eyes as he drank his Coffee, “hand em over.”

You sighed smiling watching your husband try to pry the paper bag from Yuji’s hands, Yuji who slipped off your lap holding the bag to his chest and turning away, “no!”

“Here are your drinks! Two hot chocolates one kids with extra whipped cream.” The waitress quickly left after seeing how your husband was playing tug o war with Yuji who was standing on the booth seat. “Listen brat-” Yuji let the bag go mouth and eyes opening wide as he saw the pile of cream on the short cup, “What’s that?” Bringing his tiny fists to cover his mouth you could see the sparkle in his eyes, “I want you to try it.” He sat himself in your lap reaching for cup that you slowly put in his chubby hands. He spread his fingers over the cup “it’s hot.” “It is, so be careful.” You guided the cup supporting it from below when he tried of drink from it. The first thing to happen was mushing his face into the whipped cream that made you laugh and Sukuna scoffed with a slight smile. Pulling the cup away, “Let’s try to clear some of that up,” you took a spoon scooping out a dent in the whipped cream to see the hot chocolate, bringing to spoon to Yuji he opened his mouth wide. You watched as he closed his mouth and his eyes widened and he clapped his hands “Is good! Daddy! Try!” You both looked at Sukuna, the smile on his face unfaltering as he rested his face against his propped up hand, “You try it first brat.”

Yuji nodded looking determined “I will!” Taking the cup in both hands, your hand guiding the cup, you saw how he stuck his tongue out to test both chocolate first before starting to drink. You looked at Sukuna who looked equally as shocked when your son started to take bigger brinks. When he put the half empty cup down he let out a loud “Aahhh dalichous.” (Delicious) Your smile couldn’t be held back as your peppered the side of his face you could reach with kisses “Look at my little man,” you placed a kiss on his cheek, “so grown you have a little mustache.” He giggled at your kisses shaking in your hold. “Try it daddy…” Yuji wiggled out of your lap just to run to Sukuna, trying to climb into his lap. Sukuna who wanted to resist couldn’t when Yuji looked at him with those big pleading eyes and pulling and on his sleeve, something he definitely learned from you. Sukuna rolling his eyes let Yuji into his lap grumbling about how he better not get comfortable. You watched as Sukuna opened his mouth, his free hand guiding Yuji’s so he could drink from the cup. Yuji’s closed eye smile making Sukuna waver, “it’s… good.” You and Sukuna both watched as Yuji never shifted off his dads lap, holding his cup with two chubby hands drinking and eating pecan cookies until his tummy with round and he fell asleep leaning back against his dads chest. Watching as Ryo held Yuji against his chest, you couldn’t help but awe.

The rest of your visit with your husband was filled with Yuji’s soft snoring, as you both talked quietly about how much things had changed, Sukuna suggesting another child, preferably another boy. You rolled your eyes and would’ve swatted him if Yuji wouldn’t have been cradled against him. Soon enough you all got up ready to go. The quiet snores because Sukuna had fixed Yuji to let his chest on his, and his head tucked between his neck and shoulder. “You’ll stay warm like this.”

Your walk home was peaceful, Yuji was sleeping, drooling on his daddy without a care in the world and you were hugging Sukuna from his side. His free arm moving to hug your waist and keep you warm and with him, he looked down at you, that mischievous smirk, “So, about that second son-“ he was hit with falling snow that had you laughing so hard you had to stop the breath, “We’ll see.”

🖤❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️🖤

Ty everyone and for my tag list! My Brains been everywhere but i try!

Sorry it’s so long! I need some background lol

@cyder-puff @domainofmarie @satorisgirl @sad-darksoul the other 2 wouldn’t let me tag!

I’m sorry 🤍 but tyty for everything

#sukuna ryomen #daddy sukuna #jjk anime #ryomen sukuna #sukuna thirst #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x wife reader #yuji and mom reader #yuji x mom reader #son yuji #son Yuji iadori #sukunas wife #sukunas wife speaks

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moody-alcoholic · 5 months ago

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Sub Ala Angeli

part 1 - The fall

Summary: Ghoap x fallen angel!reader, mini fic. Sub ala angeli - Under the wing of an angel.

CW: Mutilation, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, suicidal ideation.

AN: I hate to be a tease but I will be finishing cross my heart before I commit to this full time.

masterlist - next

enjoy <3

You don’t remember the fall.

You don’t remember much after the excruciating pain of your wing being torn. The scream that left your throat felt strange. You’d never experienced pain before, you never experienced the stench of blood. They made sure you felt pain. It was like someone had flipped a switch inside you, there were all these new emotions: Sadness, pain, fear.

Fear was the worst, the thump of your heart racing in your chest, the tears clouding your vision as you listened to your fate being decided.

Exile.

It had been decades since an angel had been exiled to Earth, most are sent below to the depths of hell to live among the demons they became traitors to. Your crime was different, your crime was forgivable. All it would cost you was a wing and to live among the humans you were sworn to protect.

Live a righteous life and the gates of heaven would open again.

One wing is left as a reminder, the other is taken to stop you coming back until they say you can.

You don’t know where you are, you're laid on your stomach, the ground is wet, you’re in a forest. It’s cold, you're naked, your body exposed to the elements. You can feel the wound on your back throbbing, blood trickling down your side. You let out a sob turning to your side and pulling your knees up to your chest.

You can’t even use your other wing to cover yourself. It hurts too much. It doesn’t matter anyway you’re already soaked. You watch as beams of sunlight break through the trees. The sound of the rain hitting the ground around you is strangely comforting.

Maybe you’ll just lay here and die. Die of exposure or whatever new conditions you’re vulnerable to. At least when you die there'll be no more pain.

Hopefully.

…

The snap of a branch jolts you awake. It’s dark now, your body shivers, goosebumps have risen on your skin. Your lip starts to quiver, your fingers and feet hurt to move.

“I’m sure it was this way.” You hear a voice, a sob escapes your throat. If people find you they might hurt you.

“Johnny this is a waste of time, there’s nothing here. We’ve been looking for hours.” Another voice says. You use all your energy to push your hands into the soft ground trying to force your body up. A groan leaves your throat, everything hurts.

“What was that?”

“Probably a fox or something. We should get back, it’s already dark.”

Your back throbs, each movement sends a stabbing pain through you. You can’t hold yourself up, you have no energy, you’re too injured.

Maybe these strangers are your only hope, or maybe they’ll give you a quick death. Your body slams back on the ground and you let out a yelp, tears fill your eyes again.

“Over here!” One of them calls. You see lights breaking through the trees ahead of you. It’s not like the warm glow of the sunlight though. It’s bright and white, harsh causing you to close your eyes. Your mind flicks back to the courtroom, high walls or pure white and gold.

You let out another sob as the sound of footsteps gets louder. You can’t defend yourself, if they hurt you there’s nothing you can do. You turn back on your side propping yourself up on your elbow. You bring your hand up to block the light, squinting your eyes.

“Holy shit.” They stop a few meters ahead of you, you slowly lower your arm. One of them steps toward you and you flinch before you can stop yourself. It makes your body throb with pain and you cry out, your hand flys up to grip your shoulder.

“Okay, okay.” He says backing up. You can’t get a proper look at him, your head is swimming now, your body starts to shake. You let your hand fall as your breathing picks up, a new feeling washes over you. Panic. Maybe you were wrong to trust these people.

“We’re not going to hurt you.” He says, his arms outstretched palms open, he’s given his torch to the man standing behind him. He unzips his coat, pulling it off and holding it out. “You must be freezing, we can take you somewhere warm.” He says taking a little step towards you. This time you don't flinch.

He takes another slow step, like he’s trying to move without spooking you. The arm propping you up gives way, your body slams painfully against the wet floor. You squeeze your eyes shut, gritting your teeth. Warm hands land on you, on your shoulder sending shivers up your spine.

“Eazy lass, you’re okay.” He says, his voice is calm. Your head swims as he throws the coat over you. You hear the other man moving towards you. You turn your head and look up at the stranger now bent down by your face. He brushes a strand of hair out your eyes and smiles at you.

You try to smile back, you try to get a good look at him but the light coming from behind him is too bright it stings your vision. Your head throbs as you reach out for him, it uses the last of your energy. You open your mouth to thank him but your body goes limp and everything goes black.

…

You don’t remember being bought here.

You wake in bed. You're still naked laid on your stomach. Som is bleeding through the curtains in the room. You look over and see a glass of water on the bedside table. Your body feels stiff, you push yourself up swinging your legs out the bed. Your back hurts, you grit your teeth reaching round to your back. You can feel bandages.

If they wanted to kill you they would have done it already.

You reach over for the water your hand is shaking as you pick it up and gulp it down. You’ve never been thirsty before, it’s a new feeling, everything is new. You go to stand up, your whole body feels unbalanced and you tip to the side crashing against the bedside table. You knock the glass over and it rolls on the floor smashing.

You back away, sumbling round to the end of the bed, your arms and wing stretching out as you try and balance yourself. The room to the door opens and you turn, it causes you to stumble and you fall backwards onto the floor. You let out a yelp as pain shoots through you.

“Easy, you’re okay.” He says, you look up at him, wrapping your wing around yourself. It hurts pulling on all the muscles in your back, including the ones you won’t need to use anymore. Your breathing picks up, you look at him with wide eyes, trying to hide behind your wing as much as you can. He bends down so he’s on the same level as you.

He's smiling at you, his head tipped slightly to the side. He has blue eyes and dark hair, he doesn’t look scary.

“We’re not going to hurt you.” He says as you pull your legs up to your chest. The other man appears in the doorway with his arms crossed. He looks bigger than the guy with the dark hair, his eyebrow creased as he looks at you. He has blonde hair, and big arms, you swallow hard your eyes flicking back to the other guy.

“I’m Johnny, this is Simon.” He says thumbing at the guy behind him. “Do you have a name?” You shake your head.

"What happened to you, were you attacked?” He asks. You shake your head. “We tried to patch you up the best we could. We weren’t quite sure what you needed.” You lower your wing so he can see your face better. His smile gets bigger, he reaches out his hand.

"We thought maybe you could use something to eat? Or a bath?” He says. You feel your stomach rumble, hunger, you’ve never been hungry before. Your hand rests on your stomach. You nod, dropping your wing and reaching out for his hand.

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livesincerely · 6 months ago

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They arrive on scene—a grassy, fenced-in playground teeming with children and families—and are immediately met by a frantic young woman.

“Oh, thank god,” she says, a huge diaper bag thrown over one shoulder and her arms filled with screaming toddler. “I swear, I looked away for, like, two seconds, Jaime was crying and I couldn’t figure out where their mom packed the juice boxes and when I looked back, she was halfway up—“

“What’s her name?” Bobby interrupts.

“Harper,” she says. “She’s right over here—“

And sure enough, there in the far corner of the playground is a tall oak tree, and about twenty feet up that tree is a little girl. She’s maybe seven or eight at the most and clinging tightly to a branch, her face streaked with tears.

“Hey, Harper,” Bobby calls, calm and steady. “What’re you doing up there?”

“I’m stuck!” she wails.

“I can see that,” Bobby says. “Are you hurt at all?”

“‘M okay,” she sniffles. “But it’s too far, I can’t get down!”

“Hey, that’s alright, we’re gonna send someone up to come get you. You just sit tight and keep holding on, okay?” Bobby tells her. “We’ll get you down from there in no time.”

“No way we get the ladder in here,” Chim observes, pulling off his sunglasses. “We’re fenced in on all sides and the trees are too close together to get a good angle from the curb.”

“How’d she even get up there?” Ravi wonders, squinting up at her. “No way she’s tall enough to make the jump up to that first branch. I’m not tall enough to make that jump.”

“Never underestimate the ingenuity of a determined elementary schooler,” Hen says wisely.

“I can climb up to her,” Eddie volunteers.

He moves closer to the trunk, knocking against the bark to check for soft spots, but it seems simple enough, as far as he can tell. It’s a healthy tree with lots of thick, sturdy branches—plenty big enough to hold steady beneath his weight

“You sure?” Bobby asks.

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, I got it. I just need a— a boost or a chair or something to get started, but I’ll be fine after that. Then she can hold on to me while I climb back down.”

He glances around, searching.

“Maybe we can drag that picnic table over and—“

“Here,” Buck says, stepping up behind him.

He fits his hands around Eddie’s hips, a long line of heat against his back.

“What are you—?”

Eddie’s feet leave the ground and all thoughts leave his head.

Buck lifts him like it’s not even hard, like he could do this all day, not a hint of strain in those massive biceps. Eddie fumbles clumsily for the branch, all the blood in his body rushing south so quickly he almost goes dizzy with it.

“Eddie?” Buck prompts, lifting him just a little higher—like maybe the problem is that Eddie can’t quite reach. Jesus, he doesn’t even sound winded.

“Right,” Eddie mutters, pulling himself the rest of the way up. “Uh huh, yep.”

#911 abc #buddie #buddie fic #*editor's note #*the writing desk #bits & bobs #the burning up variations

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sturniololuvz · 5 months ago

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“Nightmare in the Sturniolo House”

Matt sturniolo x sister reader

Warnings: nightmares, crying

The Sturniolo house was silent, the only sound coming from the soft ticking of a clock and the quiet breaths of the triplets sleeping peacefully in their rooms. But in one particular room, a tiny four-year-old was tossing and turning under her blankets, her face twisted in fear.

Y/N was dreaming, but it wasn’t a good one.

She was lost in a big, dark forest. The trees were tall and scary, their branches stretching out like giant hands trying to grab her. The wind howled loudly, and shadows moved all around her.

“Mattie? Nickie? Chwis?” she called, her tiny voice trembling.

No one answered.

Her little heart pounded as she tried to run, but her feet felt heavy, like they were stuck in mud.

Suddenly, she heard a low, growling noise behind her. She turned around slowly and saw glowing red eyes staring at her from the darkness.

The monster was big—too big.

Its sharp claws scraped against the ground as it took a step closer.

“NICK! MATT! CHRIS!” she screamed, but her voice barely came out.

The monster lunged at her, its giant mouth opening wide—

And that’s when Y/N whimpered in her sleep.

Her tiny body shook, her breaths coming out in soft, panicked gasps. Her face scrunched up, and suddenly, she let out a small sob.

Then another.

And then—

Waking Up in Tears

“M-MATTIE!”

Y/N’s eyes flew open, filled with tears as she sat up in her bed, her little chest rising and falling quickly.

It was dark. Too dark.

The nightmare still felt so real.

Her tiny hands trembled as she wiped at her wet cheeks. She needed Matt.

Sniffling, she climbed out of bed, her stuffed animal clutched tightly in one arm. She rushed toward Matt’s room, which was the closest, her tiny feet pattering against the floor.

When she reached his door, she reached up for the handle—but she was too short.

“Mattie!” she whimpered, banging her little fists against the door.

She hit it again, her cries getting louder. “Mattie, pwease!”

Inside, Matt was sleeping soundly—until he heard the banging.

His eyes snapped open.

His heart raced as he immediately sat up. What the hell?

Then—he heard it.

“Mattie!”

His little sister was crying.

Matt jumped out of bed, not even caring that he was only in his boxers. He rushed to the door and swung it open, his chest tightening when he saw Y/N standing there, tears streaming down her face.

“Y/N?” His voice was still groggy from sleep, but he quickly scooped her up without hesitation.

Y/N immediately buried her face into his neck, sobbing. “Mattie, da monster—da monster was gonna get me!”

Matt held her tighter, rubbing circles on her back. “Shh, shh, it’s okay. There’s no monster, I promise. I got you.”

Her tiny body trembled against his as she sniffled. “I was twying to find you but you wasn’t dere…”

Matt’s heart ached.

He kissed the top of her head. “I’m right here, bug. You’re safe, okay?”

She nodded against his shoulder, but her tiny hands were still gripping onto him like he might disappear.

Matt sighed and carried her back inside his room, kicking the door shut with his foot.

Cuddles & Comfort

Matt gently laid back down on his bed, keeping Y/N tucked against his chest. He pulled the blankets over both of them and ran a hand through her messy hair.

“You wanna tell me about your dream?” he asked softly.

Y/N hiccupped, her voice still wobbly. “I was in da fowest… and it was dawk… and a big, big monstah was twyin’ to eat me…”

Matt frowned, hugging her closer. “That sounds scary.”

“It was!” she whimpered, curling up into a tiny ball against him.

Matt rubbed her back. “Well, you don’t have to be scared anymore. ‘Cause you’re here with me now, and no monster can get you when I’m around.”

Y/N looked up at him with her big, teary eyes. “Pwomise?”

Matt smiled sleepily. “I promise, bug.”

She sniffled again but finally let out a small sigh, resting her head against his chest.

The sound of Matt’s heartbeat was soothing, and his warmth made her feel safe.

Her little hand clutched onto his arm as she started dozing off.

Matt chuckled softly, watching as her tiny breaths became slower and deeper.

“Love you, Y/N,” he murmured, closing his own eyes.

“Wuv you, Mattie…” she whispered before falling into a peaceful sleep.

And just like that, the nightmare was forgotten.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt stuniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #sister sturniolo #sturniolo series

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 10 months ago

Text

✨His Forbidden Fruit✨

Angel!Lucifer x f!human reader

Summary: You are the first woman, Eden is your paradise. Or at least it’s supposed to be. Adam has been making life in the garden difficult. That is, until a certain angel comes along…

Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, first time

"Fine! Go ahead and run! See how far that fucking gets you!" you heard Adam shout after you as you took off into the dense forest.

You couldn’t stand to be around him anymore. The person who you were made for, the one who you were supposed to be equal with, was a vile and despicable human. Always trying to tell you what to do, how to act, what to say, it was too much to handle anymore. You pushed through the thick foliage of the garden, unaware of how long you’ve been running. After some time, you came to an opening. A beautiful crystal lake stretched across the land surrounded by large trees filled with all different sorts of fruits. It looked like a paradise, but in your sorrow you couldn’t find the beauty in any of it. You collapsed, sitting on top of a nearby rock, and you sobbed. You buried your face in your hands and brought your legs to your chest. You were alone and you felt like there was no escaping the life given to you.

But you weren’t alone for long.

“Beautiful creature, why do you cry?” a soothing voice said.

Your breath caught in your thought at the sound of this voice. It wasn’t Adam’s. You lifted your head but saw no one around you. Until you noticed you had somehow been enveloped in shadow. You raised your head further and some something, or rather someone, floating just above you, their enormous wings stretched out, shading you from the bright sun. You gasped; your body screamed at you to run but your mind refused to move a muscle.

“Do not be afraid,” the being spoke softly, “I mean you no harm.”

You gulped, clutching your legs to your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. “Who…who are you?”

The spirit landed on the grass below and smiled brightly. “I am the light bringer, the morning star for the heavens above,” he answered, outstretching his hand. “But you can call me Lucifer.”

An angel, you thought to yourself. You gazed at his hand hesitantly and wiped the remaining tears from your face in an attempt to gain composer. “Did Heaven send you here, Lucifer?”

“Well, not exactly,” he admitted, pulling his hand away and rubbing the back of his neck. “In all honesty, I shouldn’t even be here.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Then why are you?”

Lucifer sighed and looked away from you. “I…I’m not sure. This place, this garden, it’s enchanting! But I was denied any say in how it should be…” You saw how resigned the angel was as he spoke to you. A pang of sadness stung your chest. “Heaven was not happy with any of the ideas I provided them. They never are. I just…wanted to see it for myself. But then, I saw you running, and I saw you crying. I couldn’t stand to see you filled with such pain.” He held out his hand once more. “Please, tell me what troubles you. Perhaps I could help.”

You took a closer look at the angel. His sapphire eyes were enchanting, it seemed almost impossible to look away. And his pale complexion very much stood out in the garden overrun with an abundance of different colors. You glanced at his enormous wings, white and gold in color, and how they perfectly complimented the rays of the sun that shows through the tree branches.

He was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

Tentatively, you took a hold of his hand as he helped you up from the rock you were perched on. You were about to speak, but then Lucifer let go of your hand in an instant.

"A-AH!" the angel squeaked as he stumbled backwards, tripping in the process and landing on the soft grass below. He shieled his eyes and shifted his body so he was no longer facing you.

"Lucifer, what's the matter?" you asked as you stood there puzzled.

"Oh! Umm...nothing! Nothing's wrong!" he answered quickly. "I...I forgot that when heaven created you, they left you...bare."

You tilted your head in confusion. "Bare? I don't understand." Without answering, you watched as Lucifer flicked his wrist, his eyes still avoiding yours. All of a sudden, you felt your body becoming wrapped in whatever Lucifer had just summoned for you. You looked down and realized that most of your skin had been covered in a foreign material that you have not encountered before. A part of it hung over your shoulder while the other was left untouched. It was draped down just past your knees. "What is this?" you questioned as you reached down to feel the white cloth. It was unbelievably soft and light, almost as if you didn't have anything on your body at all.

Lucifer peaked through his hands; you heard him sign in relief. He stood up and brushed the dirt of his robe before returning to your side. "Forgive me," he started, "that was a bit of an...overreaction. I'm sorry if I startled you!"

"It's alright, Lucifer," you smiled at him. "I'm still a bit confused though, what is this for? Was there something wrong with my appearance?"

Lucifer's eyes widened. "Oh gosh, no no no! Of course not! You're perfect! WAIT! I mean you look perfect! GAH NO! I uhh...it's...it's a gift! Yeah, that's it! It's a gift for you!"

"A gift?" You couldn't help but smile. "Adam has never given me a gift..."

You saw Lucifer frown as he took ahold of your hand once more. "I'm sorry to hear that, my flower. Here, follow me." Lucifer guided you to the lake's edge and knelt down, signaling you to join him. You did as he asked and fell to your knees in front of him. "Now tell me, why had you run away?"

You looked down and began to fiddle with your hands, unsure if your reason would upset the angel. "It's Adam..." you began, "He's...so needlessly demanding and harsh. He doesn't see us as equals, he believes himself to be superior to me. I've tried explaining to him that he shouldn't be acting this way, but he refuses to listen! Finally, I had enough of him...so I ran..." You felt the tears well up in your eyes once more, small whimpers escaping your throat as you tried to hold yourself together. "I know we're meant to be partners and I've sure heaven will not be happy b-but..."

"Shh, it's alright." Lucifer cooed as he wiped away the tears the fell down your cheek. "Please, no more tears. You were right to stand up to him. Adam should know better." You sighed and let your head rest in Lucifer's small yet tender hand. You glanced over at the pound when you heard an unfamiliar noise emanating from the center. You noticed some feathered creatures you didn't recognize swimming on the lakes surface. There seemed to be one that was much larger than all the others. You looked back at Lucifer and saw his face light up with delight. "Do you see those little ones over there?" You nodded. "Heaven may not have wanted my input on creation, but that doesn't mean I didn't have any."

"Are those your creations?" you asked.

Lucifer smiled and then sighed. "One of very few. Do you want to get a closer look?"

You looked back out to the water and saw the group of animals flap their wings, splashing the water in every direction. They seemed so full of life and energy, watching them play filled your heart with warmth. You nodded, albeit a bit nervously. Lucifer let out a melodic whistle; you watched as the little creatures made their way towards the lake bank. You saw them use their small wings to help them onto land and waddle towards the two of you. Initially, you stretched out your hand to touch one of the smaller ones but pulled back in hesitation.

"Don't worry," Lucifer reassured, "they are harmless, I promise! Watch!" Lucifer cupped his hands together and laid them down in the soft grass. A few of the small ones happily chippered and hopped into his palms. "Want to give it a try?"

You copied Lucifer's motions exactly and watched as the same thing happened with the remaining babies. Their feathers were bright yellow and soft to the touch. You were in awe of the little lives you held in your hands. "They're so small," you said aloud to no one in particular. "What are they, Lucifer?"

The angel lowered his hands and let the little ones go back to what you now assumed was their guardian. "I named them ducks," Lucifer answered. "The little ones are ducklings; not fully formed yet but they will grow!"

You nuzzled your cheek to the handful of ducklings; their little peeps made you chuckle. "They're beautiful!" you exclaimed, letting them down so they could join their family once more.

"Yeah, beautiful..." you heard Lucifer murmur. You looked over to see his lovely blue eyes staring straight back at you, a tint of yellow now colored his cheeks. "Uhh, I mean, umm...here! Watch this!"

A sudden flash of sparkles left you dazed, but only for a second. Lucifer had disappeared in front of your eyes.

"Lucifer?" you called out, looking to either side of you but seeing no one.

"Down here!" you heard his voice respond. You looked down and saw a small little white duck in Lucifer's top hat. He smiled at you and wagged his feathered tail. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, what an adorable little creature," you fawned playfully, cupping your hands once again and allowing him to hop in them. You brought him to your cheek and nuzzled him as you did with the others. Lucifer quacked in excitement. "I didn't know you could change forms!"

"It's not something I do often," he admitted. By the tone of his voice, it almost seemed like it was something that had been discouraged. "But I don't mind making a special exception for you!" You noticed the sun began to dip over the horizon, the fleeting sunlight shimmering off Lucifer's pristine white feathers. It would be night soon, and in that moment you realized you didn't have anywhere else to go. Lucifer noticed the change in your demeanor, tilting his head. "Is something the matter?" Before you could open your mouth to speak, a bellowing call could be heard from the tree line.

"Where the fuck could she be?!" you heard the voice ask, filled with annoyance. Adam. You saw the man push past the foliage and make it to the clearing. His eyes immediately found yours, and you felt as though your heart had nearly stopped. You let Lucifer down gently before standing up.

"Stay here," you whispered to him. "I'll talk with him."

"But-" Lucifer tried to refute, but you shook your head intensely.

"I don't want to risk angering heaven," you responded. "The last thing I want is for you to be punished for my choice. Please?"

Hesitantly, Lucifer nodded in agreement, making his way to the water to join the other ducks in an attempt to blend in. His little hat vanished as he started swimming. You sighed and turned to meet with the brute of a man who was already towering over you. His chest heaved; his breath was short. You could already tell this may not end well.

"Where the FUCK have you been?!" he began to shout, raising his hands in the air out of frustration. "I've been looking for you for way too long, you know that? Making me walk everywhere to find you? Fucking ridiculous!"

You took a deep inhale and let it out slowly before responding. "I'm sorry, Adam," you feigned an apology.

"Whatever," the man spat back. "You've had your temper tantrum, now let's g-" Adam paused, his eyes staring at the length of your body. "The fuck is this?" he asked grabbing the sleeve of the cloth that hung off your body. In your worry for Lucifer, you'd forgotten about the gift he had given you. You smacked Adam's hand away and wrapped your arms around yourself.

"It doesn't matter," you answered curtly.

You watched as the man's eyebrows furrowed at your non-compliance. "I don't have time for this," he reached out once more and took a firm hold of your wrist. "We're going back. Now!"

You slipped your wrist out of Adam's grasp and took a few steps back, your feet at the end of the lake. "I..." you started, your voice threatening to crack. "I'm not going back with you! I'm tired of your behavior and your disrespect. I'm not your servant, Adam, and I refuse to live the life I was given as your slave."

Adam snarled at you, stomping closer and closer to you, forcing you back into the water as you tried to avoid him. But it was to no avail. He was quick to grab your arm and yank you from the lake pulling flush against his bare chest. "That wasn't a suggestion," he spoke through gritted teeth. You tried to pull away but his grip on your arm was far too strong. "Like it or not toots, we're the only ones in this place. You have nowhere else to go and you know it! And frankly, I'm tired of these stupid games! Now, quit acting like a bitch and move your-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" a booming voiced roared. You felt a hand take a firm hold of the one that was trapped by Adam and watched as another tore Adam's own hand away from you. Lucifer appeared in front of you after separating you from the man. The angle floated off the ground, his wings spread out wide as he moved swiftly towards the startled man. "How dare you!" Lucifer growled. "How dare you put your hands on her like that! How dare you speak to her like that! You have no right!"

Adam held his hand in pain, shooting daggers in Lucifer's direction. "Who the fuck are you?!" He took a step closer, not waiting for an answer. Even as Lucifer hovered over the ground, Adam still towered over him easily. "You know what, I don't care! Listen, short stack, I don't know who you are or why you're here, but you need to get the fuck out of my way. She's my wife and I can do whatever I want to her. She's mine, got it?"

Adam curled his uninjured hand into a fist and took a swing at Lucifer, only for him to fall flat on his face as Lucifer easily dodged his attack. "Nice try," the angel taunted, "and by the way, the name's Lucifer." You let out a small laugh. Fire burned in Adam's eyes as he lifted his head.

"Shut the fuck up!" he yelled at you. But Lucifer would not accept this response. He latched onto Adam's arm and lifted him of the ground like he weighed nothing.

"What did I tell you about speaking to her like that?" Lucifer threatened. He tossed Adam against one of the trees that stood at the edge of the clearing. The man groaned in pain, attempting to pull himself up and lean his aching body against the tree. Lucifer quickly swooped down, acting as a barrier between the two of you. "You've shown me who you are, Adam. You are a monster, a disgrace. You treat this woman like the dirt you walk on and you expect her to stay with you? To love you?" Lucifer hoisted Adam up, pinning him against the truck. "You will never see her again; do you understand me? You're going to leave this place and never come back. She is under my protection now. And if you ever so much as come within a mile of her, I will not hesitate to turn you back into the dust you were formed from." Lucifer released his grip on Adam and watched as he took a few steps back into the forest. "Leave. Now!"

Adam wiped the small amount of blood that dripped from his lip and laughed darkly. "Fine, keep her!" he yelled. "She doesn't mean anything to me! Who would want a slut like her anyway!"

"GO!" Lucifer bellowed.

Without another word, Adam took off into the trees. Lucifer flew high up in the sky within seconds, his arms stretched out on either side. The ground beneath you began to shake violently and you wanted to call out for Lucifer before you realized that he was the cause. Seemingly out of nowhere, large rock formations began rising from the earth, rock tumbling down as the mountains grew. As soon as they reached Lucifer's height, they stopped.

And then there was silence.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you tried to stop yourself from shaking. Overwhelmed by the situation that had just unfolded, you fell to the ground and began to cry softly. But it wasn't as quiet as you thought. In a flash, Lucifer had flown to your side, holding you in a tender embrace.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to you. "None of this was your fault. You're safe now." You clung to the angel desperately, not holding back any of your tears. He pulled you closer, letting his wings wrap around you, completely covering your trembling body. Your breathing steadied the longer you held onto him; this was the first time you had ever felt safe. He pulled away from you slowly, wiping away the last of your tears. "I have to go," Lucifer continued, "but just for a little while. I need to tell the others what happened." He looked behind him and sighed. "They're not going to appreciate my new renovation to the garden," he turned back to you and smiled, "but they can stay upset for as long as they want. Those mountains are permanent; this is your haven now."

You sniffled and took ahold of his hands. "Thank you, Lucifer," you managed to utter.

Just then, a glowing portal formed behind Lucifer. He stood up slowly, but not before plucking a feather from his wings. "Here," he spoke softly, handing it over to you. "This is my promise to you; I will be back for it. Can you keep it safe for me?" You nodded. With one last grin, he turned and made his way through the portal that closed behind him. The quite had once again returned.

And for the first time in your life, you were left alone.

****

The sun had set a while ago. You knew you should probably sleep, but your head was filled with too many thoughts for you to even consider it. You sat against the tree by the lake, waiting patiently for your rescuer to return. You stared at the feather for what seemed like an eternity; it emanated a subtle glow of light, a brilliant golden color that rivaled the setting sun. You continued to turn over today's events in your mind. How did this happen? Did I ruin heaven's plan? If Lucifer is punished for what I've done I will never forgive myself...

"Lucifer..." you mumbled to yourself. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get him out of your mind. Why were you forced to live with a man like Adam when someone like Lucifer existed? How could the creation of the first man have gone so wrong? You didn't understand. But your jumbled up thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Yes, little dove?" Lucifer answered sweetly. Your heart skipped a beat, not expecting him to show up so soon. Nevertheless, you smiled as he sat down next to you. "I heard you say my name. Did you miss me already?"

Your cheeks felt increasingly warm all of a sudden at his question. "O-Oh, no...I mean, yes! I did. I was just thinking out loud, I suppose." You looked down at the glowing feather in your hand. "Here, you can have your feather back."

He took it from your hand and gently placed it behind your ear. "It's yours," Lucifer responded with a soft smile. "I know you'll keep it safe for me. And don't worry about losing it; I made sure it'll always find its way back to you."

You crawled over to the lake and stared at your reflection, admiring the new accessory. It suited you. You sat back down next to Lucifer, shifting so you were almost at his hip. "What did the angels say?" you asked hesitantly. "Were they angry?"

Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck, gazing down at the ground. “Well…they weren’t happy.” Your face fell at his words. He glanced at you and took ahold of your hand. “Don’t worry, they won’t force you to be with Adam. They’ve come up with a different solution…”

Your head fell to the side, curious. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

Lucifer shook his head. “They’re going to give him another wife. I advised against it, but after the stunt I pulled today, they weren’t very keen on listening to me. Not that they ever do.”

Your eyes drifted down to the ground, the guilt bubbling up in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you breathed, “I caused this. I shouldn’t have run away, I-”

“No!” Lucifer cut you off, “No, this is not your fault, you did nothing wrong. What Adam did to you was cruel. I won’t let you blame yourself for his actions!” He gripped your hands tighter as he spoke. You nodded wordlessly, almost too stunned to speak.

But as you found your voice, something else had caught your eye. Tiny little creatures all around you, lighting up the night sky. They were hard to spot until a little yellow light flickered intermittently to indicate where they were. Lucifer noticed your distracted stare and turned to see what had caught your attention. You didn’t notice at first, but the little creatures started to float closer and closer to Lucifer, as if they were drawn to him by some unseen force. Or…maybe you could see what exactly had caused them to swarm.

“They glow like you do,” you commented, watching them land on Lucifer’s robe, clawing up his sleeves slowly.

Lucifer chuckled and scooped up one from his arm and held it in his hands. “They’re fireflies,” he closed his hands around the one he caught, only leaving a tiny little gap. “Here, take a look.”

You leaned down to peer into his hands and watched as the little bug lit up its dark surroundings. You smiled and Lucifer opened his hands to let the little one fly away. “Why do they glow?” you asked curiously.

“That’s how they communicate!” he explained! “The creatures of this place can’t speak, so they have their own way of talking to one another.”

You let out a soft hum. “Well, I’m a little envious of them. And you.” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at your peculiar statement. “What I mean is, they can fly. Fly away to wherever they please. They seem to have more freedom than I do…”

Lucifer frowned but smiled after only a moment. He stood up straight and extended a hand down to you. “Perhaps I can give you that freedom, if only for a moment.” You took his outstretched hand and pulled yourself up. Without warning, Lucifer scooped you up in his arms, eliciting a small yelp from you. For his small stature, he was incredibly strong. You should have realized after you saw the way he handled Adam. You wrapped your arms around his neck in anticipation. “Hang on tight!”

With one powerful thrust of his wings, you two were airborne. A small scream escaped your throat as you hovered in the air high above the ground. You buried your face in the crook of his neck reactively. However, this caused Lucifer’s breath to hitch, which did not go unnoticed by you. You peered up at him curiously and noticed the familiar dash of yellow that covered his cheeks. He let out a deep breath and glanced back at you sheepishly. “I-It’s alright! I’ve got you.” You lifted your head more, looking out towards the seemingly endless sky. The moon above provided some light that shown on the earth far below, and from here you felt as though you could see everything. The once tall trees seemed like insignificant plants now, the newly formed mountains felt like little stones you could easily pick up and toss in any direction. If this is what the angels could see all the time, it’s no wonder they never left the sky.

Well, except for one.

“It’s amazing, Lucifer!” you exclaimed. “I never could have dreamed the world could look so lovely.”

“It pales in comparison to...” he started to say but stopped when you looked back to gaze into his eyes. “I mean…n-never mind that! I want to show you something else! Ready?” You smiled and nodded. Suddenly, Lucifer dive down at an incredible speed and stopped just before you hit the sparkling lake. He readjusted the way he held you and gripped your waist firmly. He held you like you weighed absolutely nothing. You locked your arms around him once more to secure yourself, but Lucifer shook his head. “I’m going to lower you down now, is that alright?” he asked sweetly. You were hesitant, afraid of being dropped. But you took a few deep breaths before nodding. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do!” you answered vehemently.

Your body dropped towards the water. You closed your eyes, expecting to be enveloped by the water. But you remained perfectly dry, except for the bottom of your feet. Lucifer held your palms as he floated above you, his smile brightening the night. You gripped his hands with all of your might. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes I’m alright,” you stuttered. “Just a little startled.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I should have given you a better warning. But here…” his calming voices soothed your anxiety almost immediately. “Can you try taking a step forward?” You looked down at your bare feet at the grazed the water below you. You placed one foot in front of the other, creating a small ripple of waves. You took another step. And another. And another. Before you knew it, you were walking on water with Lucifer guiding you every step of the way. His wings flapped along silently as you two made your way to the edge of the lake, towards solid ground. But the cool water below you felt almost as solid as the grass you were used to when Lucifer was by your side.

Before you knew it, Lucifer swung down in front of you, still lifting you effortlessly. He took your one free hand and placed it on his shoulder, letting his own find the small of your back. Your other hand became intertwined with his.

“Lucifer? What-” you tried to ask, but the man began to twirl you in a circle before you could finish.

“May I have this dance?” his sapphire eyes shone brightly as he held you, still leaving the slightest bit of space between the two of you.

“Oh…” you mumbled. “B-But I’ve never…”

“It’s alright, flower,” he smiled, “just follow me.”

With that, you felt yourself began to spin over the crystal lake below. You and the angel stayed suspended there for a minute or two, dancing under the pale moonlight. In a hushed tone, you could hear Lucifer hum a melodic tune as he clung to you, his wings fluttering with every motion. You couldn’t take your eyes off the angelic being in front of you. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest, the pounded invading all of your other senses. You don’t know what came over you when you began to lean closer and closer to his angel’s face. But all of a sudden, you stopped spinning. Lucifer had frozen, his song halted, with both his mouth and eyes squeezing shut. You pulled away only slightly, before leaning back in and planting a small kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Lucifer,” you breathed.

Lucifer exhaled harshly as if he had been holding his breath, staring back at you in utter disbelief. He swallowed hard before speaking again.

“I-I, uhh, I…” he tried to utter. “You’re welcome. We…we should go back now.”

The two of you at last flew back to the bank of the lake, leaning against the large tree once again. A small shiver ran down your spine. You were so distracted by the wonders Lucifer had shone you that you didn’t realize how cold the night had become. Lucifer noticed your trembling and wrapped his large wings around you, shielding you from the wind. In an instant, you felt warmer. And protected. And safe. And loved. You smiled up at him, snuggling against his velvet- like feathers. He did his best to reciprocate, but you watched as his face fell.

"I can't stay," Lucifer lamented.

You sighed knowing in the back of your mind that this would be the case. Although you had really hoped deep down that he could. "I understand."

"I want to, though," he added. "I'd spend every moment I had with you down here if I could. But they..." he paused, shaking his head, "they weren't happy that I was down here to begin with. But they're not going to keep me away. I refuse."

"Lucifer?" you chimed in. "You said that the angels would be giving Adam a new bride." Lucifer nodded. "Then...will I get a new husband?" You were afraid of the answer. If Adam was the best heaven could come up with, how much worse would another one be?

"They wanted to," he began, "but I somehow managed to get them to reconsider, at least for the time being. I convinced them to watch how Adam behaved with the new woman before they gave you another man..." Lucifer seemed to trail off, unable to look you in the eyes anymore.

"Do I have a choice?" Lucifer didn't respond to you; he didn't even seem to register your words at all. His silence was answer enough.

A wave of drowsiness hit you suddenly; it was a long day and your body finally decided it needed some rest. "Well..." you yawned, scooting a little closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder without thinking, "...I know who'd I choose if I did." Lucifer froze once more as he felt your body go limp as you leaned against him.

"W-Who'd you choose?" he repeated back to you, attempting to get a response. But you didn't answer; you laid peacefully against your rescuer without a care in the world, your even breathing soft and peaceful. You only heard one final message before you drifted into unconsciousness...

"Sweet dreams, my starlight, I'll see you when you wake."

****

You woke up the next morning with a start. Memories of the previous day washing over you. It hadn’t been a dream…it was real. You were no longer under Adam’s control, you were free. And you owed everything to…

“Lucifer?” you called out to him, lifting your head from the grass. but there was no response. He told you last night that he couldn’t stay, but deep down you hoped that he would have.

Before you was a small glowing fire. It cackled against the dawn of the morning, welcoming you to a new day. Lucifer must have left it for you, and you were thankful since Adam was always the one who made the fire when you two spent the nights together. You shook your head, trying to force those unpleasant memories back into the recesses of your mind. You never had to think about him ever again.

The morning came and went, peaceful and uneventful. This was the first time in a long time where you felt hopeful for the days to come. You spent most of the early hours picking the various fruits from the trees that encircled your new refuge. After sampling the delicious treats, you decided your favorite was the bright red ones with a unique shape and subtle sweet taste. You didn’t have a name for them yet, but you were sure Lucifer could tell you.

The fruits themselves became harder and harder to reach as you gathered all of the ones within your reach. You tried to jump a few times but only the tips of your fingernails were able to graze it.

“One more time,” you told yourself as you pushed off the ground with all the strength you could conjure. But as you felt as though you could reach it this time, a pale hand reached across and snatched it from the tree. You landed on the ground with a thud and looked over to who had taken your prize, and then you smiled. Lucifer floated next to the tree, tossing the fruit back and forth between either hand as he laughed. “How long have you been watching me?” you asked with a smirk.

Lucifer rubbed the back of his head and landed gracefully on the ground next to you. “Only for a minute…or two…” He handed you the fruit which you gratefully accepted.

You took a bite of the delicious food. “What are these called, Lucifer? I think they may be the best things I’ve had!”

“Apples, dear one,” the angel replied. You continued to eat the apple until you got to its core.

“And these little black bits in the middle?” you questioned; your mouth still half full.

“Seeds!” he explained. “Oh, but don’t eat them! You’re supposed to bury them in the ground. With the proper care and patience, these little seeds can grow into large trees like this one!” Lucifer went on to explain the process of growing food, and you clung to every word he spoke. Listening to him was like a melody only you could truly understand.

Over the next several days, the two of you spent as much time together as possible. Lucifer showed you everything there was to see in the garden; the animals, the plants, the flowers, and all of the wonders this place had to offer. He had to leave every night, but he was able to show you how to make a fire on your own so that you could keep warm when he could not be there. Like clockwork, Lucifer would visit you the same time every day and leave to return to heaven just as you fell asleep. You knew the great risks he was taking to spend time with you and you made it known how much you appreciated his sacrifice, showering him with praise and appreciation every chance you got. You found it adorable how he would try to hide his face with his hat or his wings when complimenting him. It was sweet in a way you couldn’t fully articulate. All you knew is that it made you happy, and so did he.

But one day, Lucifer was late.

You paced back and forth beneath your apple tree, the one you would always meet him at. But he didn’t show up today. Terrible scenarios bombarded your thoughts; what if he was caught sneaking away? What if heaven forbid him to ever come back? What if you never got to see him again?

You inhaled a deep breath, trying your best to steady your heartbeat. You knew he’d be back; he’d never leave you here. Maybe he was just late today, perhaps there was nothing malicious happening. You had to keep this mindset lest you go insane with worry. You decided a dip in the lake would calm your nerves. You always found a certain tranquility there.

After disrobing, you stepped carefully into the crystal lake, letting the warm water flood over your body, your muscles relaxing and your mind now at ease. A small family of ducks floated not too far away from you as you submerged yourself up to your shoulders. You threw your head back, your hair soaking up the clear water, as you listened to the little ducks flap their wings, spraying water every which way.

But your unanswered prayers were finally heard as you heard Lucifer's voice ring out, laced with concern.

"Songbird, where are you?!" you heard him shout, his hands holding on tight to the robe he had gifted you.

"Over here, Lucifer!" you yelled from the water waving your hand back and forth excitedly, your worries quickly dissolving after seeing he had come searching for you.

The angel froze where he stood, staring blankly at the tree horizon off in the distance instead of you. "O-oh, thank goodness, you're alright!" he seemed to be saying to no one. You found it odd that Lucifer had not looked in your direction. “I-I’m so sorry I’m so late, I had some trouble escaping Heaven’s eyes today.”

You smiled sweetly. “It’s alright, Lucifer, you don’t need to apologize.” He still hadn’t moved since you started talking. “Is something the matter? You seem distracted.”

Lucifer clung to your robe even tighter. “Nope! No! I’m perfectly fine!” he tried to lie, but you remained unconvinced. He looked stressed and his golden flush did not go unnoticed. What he needed was to relax.

“Come join me, Lucifer,” you invited him, “you don’t look so well. The water is nice and warm! Perhaps it’ll help you feel better.”

You started making your way out of the water to offer your hand, but his reaction was far from anything you were prepared for. Lucifer had dropped your robe immediately, his wings now nearly covering his entire body. You stopped your movement entirely.

“N-No, I promise I’m fine!” he continued to fib. “Could you…maybe, possibly…take a few steps back…please?”

You did as you asked and sank beneath the water once more. You had no idea why Lucifer was acting so strangely; your happiness had almost instantly turned into sadness and guilt. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, “have I done something wrong?”

“Oh! No! No, of course not! You haven’t done anything wrong!” He seemed genuinely concerned after hearing your apology which made you feel even more confused than you already were.

“I don’t understand,” you explained. “I must have upset you. You wouldn’t have asked me to step back otherwise. Even now, you’re hiding yourself from me.”

Lucifer peaked through his feathers and saw you had gone back to your original place in the water. His wings unfolded immediately, finally looking you in the eyes. “You haven’t upset me, I promise you. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had, please forgive me. I…It’s hard to explain…” His voice trailed off as his eyes shifted to the ground. He inhaled deeply, then sighed heavily. “I never want to be the reason you're sad. Never. I’ll join you…if you still want me to.”

You gave him a weak smile and nodded slowly. You could tell something was still off with his behavior, but you knew he would never want to upset you. You knew him. This was his way of atoning. You decided not to push the issue further, at least for now. Whatever he was talking about, it was clear he was uncomfortable.

“Could you…turn around for a moment?” he asked quietly. Another odd request, but you did as he asked, your back now towards him. After only a moment or two, you hear the gentle swashing of the water behind you. And only a moment more before he spoke up again. "O-Ok, you can turn around now."

You did so, but it was clear that he was still maintaining his distance much to your disappointment. He smiled awkwardly at you; the water coming up just about to his torso. You caught yourself staring at his chest, his bright pale skin reflecting off the water. You took a single step closer, not wanting to scare him off.

"You can come closer, you know. I won't bite," you teased him.

Lucifer chuckled nervously. "I-I know you won't, but uhh, I think it's best for the both of us if I stay right here!"

You rolled your eyes at him, "Ok, well then, I'll come to you!"

He noticed as you took another step towards him and he mirrored your actions by taking a step back. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, dove. I..."

"Don't be afraid, Lucifer," you cut him off. "Let me help you. If you’re not comfortable looking my way, why don't you turn around for me." Hesitantly, he obliged, now facing the shore line. Slowly, you approached your friend. When you were finally close enough, your arms stretched out and rested on his shoulders. His whole body tensed at your touch. He's never responded to you like that before. "It's alright," you cooed as you began to work your fingers into his muscles. Lucifer let go of the breath he was holding, his shoulders relaxing as well as his wings.

"This...this feels nice," Lucifer admitted. "Thank you. And I'm sorry again."

"For what?" you asked as your hands continued to work on his stiff body.

Lucifer sighed. "For being late. For acting strangely. And especially for upsetting you."

"You don't need to apologize," you reassured him. "I know you would never want to hurt me intentionally." You watched as his wings twitched under your delicate touch. The water slid off of his feathers easily as if they we resistant to it. The urge to reach out and touch them was growing increasingly harder to ignore. "Lucifer, may I touch them?"

He knew what you were referring to; he cocked his head to the side, still not looking at you directly. "I-I, I mean uhh, I suppose…you can. Just...be gentle, please. They can be very sensitive."

With the most delicate touch, you began to stroke his soft feathers between your fingers. Almost instantly, a breathy moan could be heard from Lucifer. You continued your ministrations, admiring their unearthly beauty. Your hands made their way down further to where his wings had sprouted from his back. You gently pinched the base of his wings, causing Lucifer to jolt away in surprise with a yelp.

“GA-AAHH!” he cried, almost falling face forward into the water. “Ok! I-I think that’s enough of that! Thank you, b-but I think I’m good to go!” The flustered Angel started to make his way to the shoreline but you were quick to grab his wrist before he could get too far.

“I’m sorry, Lucifer,” you spoke softly, “I didn’t mean to cause you any pain. Please stay…”

A flash of panic flashed across his face. “No! No, I’m not hurt! It’s just…” his head fell, gazing at the water beneath him, and gulped. “I have to go! Please forgive me for this…” His wings stretched out behind him, and with one giant flap, caused a more than forceful splash of water in your direction. You let go of his wrist to try and shield yourself from his attack. Water doused you, with some unfortunately finding its way into your mouth. You coughed furiously, trying to expel it. You were blinded for a few seconds before rubbing your eyes and finding Lucifer who was nearly dressed again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he called out to you, but his apologies didn’t stop you from trying to chase him down. Enough was enough, you needed an explanation. With his back turned, he had no time to prepare for your counterattack. Just as he turned to see you had gotten within inches of him, you pounced. You knocked him hard to the ground with a thud and pinned his arms above his head. He squirmed beneath you but you would not relent.

“Lucifer, what’s the matter with you?” you demanded. “You’ve never acted like this before, what changed? Please, tell me what I’ve done wrong!”

Lucifer continued to struggle against your grip. You found this odd, knowing full well he had every chance to overpower you. But he didn’t.

“My flower, p-please,” he begged, “please let me go!” His eyes trailed to your bare chest only for a brief moment before forcing himself to stare back at you, his entire face a shade of pale yellow.

You shook your head. “You can free yourself, why don’t you?”

“…I can’t risk hurting you…I won’t…” he murmured.

Your grip loosed on him slightly as your body began to tremble. "You hurt me by not being honest. I don't understand! I-" Your rant was cut short when you felt a sudden jab in your abdomen. Almost as if a bump had suddenly formed underneath you. You glanced down and noticed precisely what had caused the odd sensation. "O-Oh..." was all you could mutter.

Lucifer's whines had only increased with your discovery. "Please..." his voice was barely audible now. "You have to let me go..." You watched as a single tear fell from his eye, sliding down his flushed cheeks. You didn't know angels could cry.

Wordlessly, you finally released your hold on him, backing away slowly and sitting on your knees. Your garment that had been given to you the first day you let Lucifer laid next to you, wrinkled and disheveled. You grabbed it and pressed it tight against your chest, not wanting to upset Lucifer further.

You understood now.

A portal opened up as Lucifer stood to his feet, not daring to look in your direction. "I'll...I'll be back later tonight," he spoke softly, "I owe you an explanation, you deserve at least that much. But right now...I can't. I have to go. I'm sorry, starlight. I'm so sorry." With his solemn apology, Lucifer disappeared into the portal behind him.

You sat there in the grass in silence, refusing to move for the longest time. You went to tuck your hair behind your head, but your heart stopped. Lucifer's feather: it was gone. In a panic, your head swiveled, looking in every direction you possibly could when you finally spotted it. His feather sat alone in the calm water. Shakily you stood up and reached down and held it delicately in the palm of your hands.

And in that moment, all you could do was cry.

****

Hours had passed and Lucifer had still not returned. Night had fallen not too long ago and you found yourself huddled up next to the fire you had made. Tonight was particularly cold. Your legs you pressed tightly you your chest as your arms and head rested in your knees. You didn’t even know what you would say when Lucifer did eventually arrive, this was all…such a mess. A part of you just wanted to be left alone, but the other had a burning desire to hold him as close to you as possible. The two sides were raging war within you when you finally heard the familiar sound of another portal opening behind you. You didn’t dare to turn around.

Silently, Lucifer made his way over to you, sitting down next to you, but far enough away where there wouldn’t be any contact. You finally turned your head to look at him. The angel removed the hate from his head, fiddling with the brim. He looked so…defeated.

“I know I’ve said this way too often today,” he began to speak, “but songbird, I am deeply and truly sorry for what happened. You are not to blame for any of this. And if you told me that you never want to see me again…” he paused, not wanting to finish that thought.

“Lucifer?” he looked up at you, his eyes glossy. “My world was changed because of you. I’m safe because of you. And…I’m happy because of you. Why would I never want to see you again. That’s not a life worth living, not to me.”

Lucifer wiped his eyes, the smallest smile forming on his lips. “How can you be so understanding, so forgiving? Even some of the angels in heaven don’t show the kind of mercy you do. I mean, what happened today was…”

“Not your fault,” you finished his sentence. You shifted closer to him, Lucifer remained unmoving. “I know I haven’t existed for very long, and you don’t have to explain, I know what happened to you.” He buried his face in his lap at your confession. “Lucifer, you don’t need to be ashamed. It’s natural, is it not? It’s just a, what’s it called…a physical reaction? I just wish you would have been honest with me from the start.”

Lucifer only shook his head in anguish. “How could I?” he choked out. “It’s only natural for humans, that’s the way it’s supposed to be! This…this is forbidden amongst angels! Who am I to defy their orders when I’m already on everyone’s bad side! He stood up suddenly and began pacing back and forth. “This is a disaster! The last thing I wanted to do is hurt you and that’s all I’ve done! No wonder Heaven doesn’t take me seriously, all I do is cause trouble! It’s just mistake after mistake after mistake with me! Maybe…maybe they’re right…” He plopped back down onto the ground and stared up at the stars. “I’m just a foolish seraphim who’s in way over his head…”

You crawled over to him tentatively, your face hovering over his. You shoved away his messy hair away from his eyes. “Do you think finding me in the garden that day was a mistake?”

“No…”

“Do you think saving me from Adam was a mistake?”

“No, of course not!” he sat up straight.

“Then, do you think this is a mistake?” You leaned in too fast for Lucifer to react. Your eyes fell shut as your lips connected, but only for a moment. You pulled back only to realize that the angel became a statue, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and desire. “Lucifer, are you alright?” He didn’t respond, he only continued to stare blankly at you, almost as if he were in a trance. “Maybe one more could bring you back…” your body fell forward once more, but this time Lucifer’s arms caught you, pushing you back at your shoulders.

“Y-You…” he began to stutter, “you kissed me…” You nodded sheepishly. “But why?…”

“Because I love you, Lucifer,” you blurted out without much thought. “Because you make every day in the garden better. Because I couldn’t imagine my life now without you in it! I don’t want you to think those terrible things about yourself because they are not true! I don’t care what anyone in Heaven has said, they are wrong! They wanted me to live my life with Adam, do you not think that they are capable of making mistakes? I thank my lucky stars that I never laid with him because that would-”

“Wait, wait, slow down!” Lucifer interjected. “You never laid with Adam?!”

You stuck your tongue out in disgust. “I would never. He’s heartless and cruel and wicked. Everything you’re not.” Lucifer gulped, trying to steady his breath. “I was blessed that he never tried to force me, but I knew he didn’t care for me. All he saw was a servant, someone to take care of all his needs without ever considering mine. But you…” you pushed back against Lucifer’s arms, trying to get closer. His resistance weakened but you could tell he was still hesitant.

“Wait…” he breathed. You sat up straight and grabbed a hold of his hand, interlacing your fingers. “This is…a lot to process, flower. My mind is pulling me in so many different directions…” He grabbed your other hand, now squeezing both, and turned fully to face you. “If…If we go through with this, there’s no going back. If Heaven ever learns of this, there’s no telling what they might do. But I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to protect you. Are you willing to take that risk?”

You gripped his hand tight and leaned your head forward into his. “I am. But only if you are too.”

“Nothing on Heaven or Earth could keep me away from you.” With his confession, your lips collided once again, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Everything around you disappeared, all that mattered in that moment was you and him. His kiss was tender, delicate; he kissed you as if you were made of the most pristine glass. But you didn’t want it any other way. “I love you, my little dove,” he whispered between breaths. “My live for you is far greater than all of the stars in the sky. Do you believe that?” You nodded and smiled, pulling him into another kiss. You found yourself lying flat on the ground, Lucifer hovering over you as he continued to devour you. His hands slowly traced down the sides of your body, stopping at your hips. You needed to feel him.

“Can I remove this?” you asked him, pulling on your garment.

“M-Mhmm,” he mumbled. “O-Only if you’re comfortable.”

“Promise not to panic again?” you joked. His face flushed as you sat up and removed your clothing. You watched as Lucifer shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. “It’s alright, Luci, you can look.”

He peaked with one eye and exhaled the breath he had been holding. He let his other eye open, and all he could do was stare. You felt no shame as his eyes finally fully examined your body for the first time. His breath hitched as he climbed back over you.

“Beautiful,” Lucifer sighed. “So, so beautiful…” He leaned down to kiss you once more, but you pressed a finger to his lips playfully.

“I think it’s your turn,” you suggested.

Lucifer laughed nervously. “R-Right, right. Only fair, I suppose.”

He sat up straight and ever so slowly began to unbutton his robe. You noticed his fingers shaking more and more with each button that came undone. In your mind, he couldn’t look that much different from Adam; he’d never worn anything to cover himself. With Lucifer last button undone, he finally let the sleeves fall from his arms, his robe falling to the ground. When you finally saw him, you knew it was the most beautiful body you had ever seen. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at his very apparent erection. For once, you found it difficult to find the words to say.

“I…I umm,” you stuttered out. Your face felt hotter than it ever has been before. Something in your stomach ached. It wasn’t a pain, but a craving. “I didn’t know they could be different sizes! Yours is bigger than Adam’s…”

Lucifer’s wings instinctively covered his body at your remark. “Sorry, sorry! Instincts!,” you heard his muffled voices through the feathers. “I just…angels do not undress in front of one another. It’s very much frowned upon.”

You crawled over to him, sticking your hand through his feathers to see his flushed yellow face. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not an angel then, isn’t it?”

Lucifer’s first set of wings unfurled from his face, flashing you a cute but embarrassed smile. “But you are,” he retorted, “the most beautiful angel to ever exist!”

The rest of his wings fell back, he pulled you close to kiss you once again. You let your mouth fall open in desperation, and Lucifer took that as a sign to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid past your wanting lips and found yours which was more than eager to please. His hands settled on your hips once more, but that wasn’t enough. Carefully, you reached down and grabbed his hand and placed it on one of your breasts. Lucifer squeaked in surprise and pulled away from the kiss.

“You’re so cute,” you cooed, kissing his forehead. “Don’t worry, it’s alright. I-I want you to feel me.” Lucifer sighed heavily and started gently kneading at your breasts. The way he touched you felt so good, so right. You couldn’t imagine a better feeling. You laid back down while Lucifer continued with his motions, your nipples now being pinched between his soft fingers. Quiet moans escaped your throat while Lucifer began kissing down your neck and chest, sucking on your delicate skin. He ventured down to your breast, taking your nipple into his mouth, his tongue making circling motions around it. He switched to the other one after a little bit, giving your other breast the same attention. You began to whimper, it felt good. So good. And you needed more. Lucifer raised his head and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“We’re going to take this slow,” he promised. “I’m going to help you get prepared for what follows, is that alright?” You nodded eagerly. He couldn’t help but chuckle just a little bit. One hand held your head while the other wandered down your body and hovered over your bare sex. “If you need me to stop, please promise me that you’ll tell me immediately. This…shouldn’t hurt, but I’m not taking any chances. I’ve never done anything like this before, but…I do know what should be done. Do you promise?”

“I promise, Luci,” you smiled. “I trust you.”

He blushed. “I like that name…Luci. Your Luci…” He kissed you once again as you felt his fingers finally touch your womanhood. You gasped at the contact, and his hand pulled away instantly. “Are you alright? Did it hurt?”

You shook your head furiously. “No, no! It didn’t hurt! It’s just…surprised me is all. Please, keep going.”

With a nod, he leaned back in to kiss you, his hands finding its way back down to where it was previously. At last, his fingers found your sensitive nub; he began to rub it. Very slowly at first as to not startle you, but slowly he began to speed up rhythmically. His lips captured your moans. The pressure in your stomach was something you had never experienced before, it felt as though the feeling kept building and building inside of you as if it was aching to release. You felt his fingers trail down just a little bit further, stroking your already soaked folds. He pushed one finger inside, and you yelped. Not in pain, no, but in pleasure. Lucifer took notice and almost took his hand away before you stopped him.

“I-I’m fine, I’m fine…just…felt good. Please don’t stop, Luci…” He did as you asked and inserted his finger fully inside you once again. Pumping it in and out, in and out, in and out. Your body conformed to his movements; your whimpers filled the night sky as he added a second finger into you. That pressure you felt was building even more now, something in your stomach felt as though it could snap at any moment. Unfortunately, Lucifer removed his hand from you and a pathetic whine fell from your lips.

“I’m sorry, starlight,” he apologized, “I just…I want to see something…” You watched as he licked the fingers than had been ravishing you. All of a sudden, his eyes became wide, and he stared down back at you. “My love, your taste is…absolutely divine. I want to try something if you’ll allow me.” You blushed at him, nodding in agreement. Lucifer made his way down your body and settled his face directly between your thighs. You felt your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as he peered up at you. “Let me know if you need me to stop at any point.”

Before you could respond, you felt his tongue drag itself up your drenched slit. You nearly screamed at the sensation, but this time, it didn’t deter Lucifer. He began to devour your pussy like a man starved, his tongue skillfully moving along your folds and your clit. He added his digits back into your heat as his mouth continued to consume you. It was so much, almost too . That pressure was back and you felt it even more than before.

“L-Lucifer,” you cried out, “Lucifer I-I feel s-something, I don’t…I-I can’t…” you words failed you as you felt that odd coil tighten to the point of no return.

“It’s okay, little dove, it’s okay,” Lucifer reassured you between his sloppy licks. “Your body’s responding to the stimulation. Relax your body as much as you can. Your body is building towards a climax. It'll be euphoric, I promise."

You did as Lucifer said untensed your muscles which made his continued ministrations even more intense. You mindlessly gripped his hair as wordless moans filled the air. You felt your body coming closer and closer to its release. You tried to warn him but no words could be formed in that state you were in. With one final cry, you felt your muscles clench around his fingers, your release spilling out of you at a rapid pace. Lucifer refused to move however as he lapped up everything your body had to offer. When the spasms stopped, your breathing slowed. Lucifer crawled back up your body with a lovestruck expression, the remainder of your release still shining on his chin. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"What...what was that?" you asked still catching your breath.

"An orgasm," Lucifer explained. "It's what happens to the body when it's receiving extreme pleasure. Are you okay though? Was that too much?"

You smiled up at him. "No, it wasn't too much. It was perfect. Thank you..." You sat up to kiss him, the faint taste of your release on his lips. "So, does that mean your body is capable of the same thing?"

Lucifer suddenly became flustered. "O-Oh, well, I mean yes, b-but it's a little bit different in my case. What I mean is, it would be the same as any other man."

You pushed on his chest gently so you could sit up properly. "Can I try to return the favor, then?" Lucifer's wings fluttered behind him as you watched his face change into the deepest shade of yellow you had ever seen. "Oh golly...that's...that's very kind of you, but you r-really don't have to do that. I...It's uhhh...oh, heaven help me..."

You giggled at his reaction, shifting yourself to your knees. "You made me feel so good, Luci, let me make you feel good too. Please?"

"O-Okay," he managed to whisper. Your shifted your gaze down, finally getting a good look at his girthy length. It was impressive to say the least, and in all honestly you felt a little intimidated. It stood firm as you carefully wrapped your soft hands around the base. Lucifer's breath hitched at the sudden contact. "D-Do you know what to do?"

Your face shifted into a slight scowl. "I think so. I had the misfortune of catching Adam doing this to himself more times than I'd like to remember," you recalled and shook your head. "But from what I remember, it went like this..." Your hand finally shifted around his cock, pumping him slowly. Immediately, Lucifer's head found your shoulder as he whimpered against you. You relished in the feeling of having an all-powerful angel at your mercy with a few simple strokes. Your pace quickened after a short while, your pumps becoming more and more rapid, but never rough. Lucifer cried into your shoulder as you continues to touch him.

"M-My flower, o-oh my...it feels s-so good. Y-You feel so wonderful...please don't stop, please..." You happily did as he asked, feeling his lips press against your neck. Your hand continued its motion when you felt something drip onto it. You looked down and noticed something clear was leaking from the tip. Curiously, you took your other hand and wiped it up, bringing it to your mouth for a taste. It was...strange, but not in a bad way. All of a sudden, you had an idea. Without warning, you leaned down and gave a tentative lick to the head of his cock. Lucifer gasped as if he couldn't breathe. "W-What are you doing?!" asked in a panic.

"I wanted to taste you like you did me," you responded innocently. You took another lick, this time pressing on his slit. The cry that erupted from Lucifer's lips were heavenly.

"Love, p-please," he begged, "you don't need to do thaaaahhh-t" you silenced his protests as you wrapped your whole mouth around the tip, your tongue swirling around it furiously. You hand didn't stop its movement either as it worked in tandem with your mouth, carefully avoiding the use of your teeth. You felt Lucifer buck his hips a few times, but not enough to overwhelm you. You could tell he was getting close to his release as his body began to tremble with every little motion. But just before you know he would come undone; he pulled you back gently away from his now leaking cock. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I-I had to stop you..."

"Oh," you sighed, "Did I do something wrong?"

Lucifer shook his head. "On the contrary love, you did everything right. Almost a little too well. I was almost on the verge of...you know."

You tilted your head in confusion. "Then why did you want me to stop?"

Lucifer laid you down again, his glassy eyes never leaving yours. "Because...I need you. I need you now. I know how selfish that sounds, b-but please...I-"

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, his eyes falling closed. "I need you too, Lucifer. I want to be yours."

With little hesitation, Lucifer lined his cock up against your soaking entrance. He held your face in his other hand and pressed his forehead against yours. "Are you sure about this? Is this what you want?"

"I want you Lucifer, all of you. I love you."

With that, Lucifer smiled down at you and pulled you in for a kiss. "I love you too. I'm going to push in now, alright. If you feel any pain, tell me and we'll stop." You agreed. With one final shaky breath, Lucifer began to sheath himself inside you at an agonizingly slow pace. You felt your walls adjust around his girth, the familiar pressure returning once more. At last, he bottomed out inside you, the both of you finding it hard to breathe at this moment. "How are you feeling? Does it hurt?"

"N-No," you answered quietly. "I...I feel whole."

The angel couldn't help but smile. "I feel the same way. As if you were made for me. You tell me when I can move."

You gave him confirmation, and with that, Lucifer dragged himself out of you lethargically to the tip just to push in again slowly. IT was perfect he was perfect. You never felt more alive and you wished you could never leave this moment. Lucifer's hips picked up the pace, his cock dragging in and out of you. Both of your moans filling the night sky.

"Luci...Lucifer..." you whimpered in between thrusts. "Feels so good, so good, I-I love you Lucifer! Please keep going, please! I feel it again...so close..." You wrapped your arms around his back, touching the base of his wings which caused him to yelp.

"Oh heavens..." Lucifer whined against you. "You're squeezing me so tight, my dear, feels...oh my...feels perfect. I love you too...so so much..." His thrusts increase to an almost inhuman speed. The coil you felt before tightened once more, you felt yourself coming undone fast. And by the way your lover was crying out, he was too. "I-I'm close too, love, very close...I...I...I can't...HNNGG-GGAAAHHHH!" With his final cry, you felt Lucifer empty himself into you as you spasmed around him at the same time, your juices mixing together inside of you. HIs wings fluttered as you felt his cock continue to twitch inside of your gummy walls. You found yourself in a complete state of ecstasy as you clawed at his back at the peak of your release.

Lucifer nearly collapsed on top of you as he finished, his breathing staggard and labored as yours was. After a few minutes, he removed himself from you and laid next to you, his wings falling over you in a soft embrace.

"How do you feel?" Lucifer asked quietly as he pushed the hair that had fallen in your face away. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You smiled and shook you head. "No, I'm not hurt. I feel...so wonderful. Thank you, Lucifer."

"As do I," Lucifer murmured, returning the smile. "Can I...hold you?"

"Of course you can," You shifted your body as close to him as possible as he threw his arms around you.

"I've wanted to hold you since the moment I met you," he confessed, "I didn't feel worthy of you. Of your love. I was a fool."

You responded by planting a small peck on his lips and watched as his face flushed again. "You're more than worthy. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." You smile faded as you realized what time had come. "I supposed...you have to leave soon, is that right? I don't want Heaven to-"

Lucifer's arms wrapped around you even tighter, forcing your head against his chest before you could finish speaking. "No, not tonight. Not ever again. I don't care what Heaven has to say. Not anymore. I'm yours now and nothing will ever change that. Whatever happens, we'll face them together. And I swear on my soul, I will not let them take you away from me."

You felt tears run down your face as you held Lucifer close. He was yours now, and you were his. You knew that whatever was to come, he would never leave your side. You two were bound together now. For all of eternity.

~~~~

IT'S FUCKING DONE, I HAVE SURGERY TOMORROW, GOODNIGHT EVERYONE, I'LL SEE YOU WHEN I'M CONSCIOUS AGAIN!!! PLEASE EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES, I'LL FIX THEM WHEN I CAN!!

EDIT: SURGERY WAS A SUCCESS! 💜

Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj

@bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps

@ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel

@seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht

@heavenlyraindrops @ronniesgonerogue @ag-cookiebat800 @victoriousvic @meesachan

@rand0m-1diot @lonelynmisunderstood @godsent69 @yourmom132 @liveontelevision

@luci-lover-forever @lolalovesmorningstar @moonlight-readings @nayomi247 @la-undercover-latina

@yve-barr @heckdoggo @leviskittywh0re @thornwolfy235 @qu1cks1lversb1tch

@lauruoriii @annybah @jayyyayaysblog @sweet-radio @diffidentphantom

@sunflower-reaper @6esiree @writteninlunarlight-years

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #my writing #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #IT'S DONE AT LAST #THIS SHIT TOOK FOREVER AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH #OF COURSE AO3 IS DOWN WHAT THE FUCK MAN LMAOOOOO

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