#that colour is amazing for his skin i fear | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rainforestakiie · 3 months ago

Note

Sinner Adam is a trope that i love and I know you would handle it AMAZING, so what do You thing???

hi!

i struggled a lot with this because i didn't know what to write! ahhh! i also wanted to try something new that hasn't been done before, though i did use one known trope. but i hope it's not too bad!

i tried to write something different with sinner adam.

i really hope you like it, and thank you so much for the wonderful request! it was so fun to write!

also, for the full experience, please listen to 'the ballad of the witches' road' from agatha all along! i was listening to this while writing, and it made it so chilling!

The Acedia of Hell

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The first thing Adam heard as he drifted toward consciousness was a faint crackling, like a thousand whispered secrets swirling just above his head. He flinched, instinctively recoiling from the sound, but it only grew louder, wrapping itself around him until it became a relentless drumming in his ears.

An ache began to creep along his back, first a subtle tingle, then swelling into a searing, acid-like burn. It started between his shoulder blades, coiling down his spine in a twisted agony that made his entire body tremble. His chest constricted, as though his heart had been crushed and was now struggling to inflate, each beat an effort, each breath a torment. His skin twitched, and a chill raced through him, sharp enough to raise every hair on his body, as if some unseen force was raking icy fingers across his flesh.

Inside him, something stirred—an eerie, swelling pressure, like a bubble forming deep within his chest. It started small, like the delicate bubbles children blow in the wind, then grew, expanding into the size of a birthday balloon, then larger still, as though a hot air balloon were inflating inside him, until it became a blimp of overwhelming pressure, straining to escape. And finally, with a violent eruption, his throat opened, and Adam gasped sharply, his eyes, swollen and raw, wrenching open. A torrent of hacking coughs tore from his chest, each one sending fresh pain rippling through him.

His body convulsed, and with a grimace, Adam spat out thick, blue liquid. He collapsed onto his elbows, his back blazing with even fiercer agony, as though his spine were splitting apart. He wheezed, vision blurring, trembling hands pressing against the slick, waxy surface of the red stones beneath him. His lips parted in a desperate attempt to scream, but instead, a sudden gush of the brilliant blue fluid burst forth, staining the crimson ground beneath him in striking shades of despair—a beautiful, sorrowful blue, spreading like an ethereal bloom.

More of the thick, otherworldly liquid streamed down his face as Adam continued to cough and choke, his chest aflame. The golden essence of his blood, once radiant and divine, began to glow with an unnatural hue, shifting to match the eerie, silver-blue shade he was vomiting. It pulsed beneath his skin, transforming, until the ethereal silver - blue coursed through his veins, as if his very soul had been overtaken by the same haunting colour he was now expelling.

Adam sucked in a ragged breath, the crackling still weaving through the thick, oppressive air, a relentless whisper just beyond his senses. His mind teetered on the edge of darkness, desperate for the release of unconsciousness, but each time it began to drift, the sharp stab of pain wrenched him back into this torturous reality.

He squinted through the haze, trying and failing to clear his vision, his hands trembling uncontrollably. His back arched, and with a gasp of agony, he could feel it—his spine, as if it were trying to tear free from his skin. His mouth opened in a desperate cry, but his body was already curling in on itself, shaking violently as he pressed his forehead to the slick, waxy ground beneath him. The crackling grew louder, and behind him, a new sound emerged—horrific snapping and tearing—but Adam couldn’t bring himself to look. Fear rooted him in place, afraid of what he might find if he dared to turn his head.

With a trembling breath, Adam stretched out a weak, shaking arm, fingers barely able to grasp at the air as his vision swam, the world blurring with blinding streaks of silver and blue. “H-help…” he tried to call out, but his voice was broken, twisted into something unrecognizable. He wasn’t even sure if he had spoken at all.

Through the haze, a faint glimmer of golden light caught his eye—a figure, bathed in white, stepping toward him, with another taller, draped in deep crimson, following close behind. Adam’s heart leaped in fragile hope—someone had heard him. Someone was coming to help. But even that thought was quickly drowned out by the relentless cracking that now roared in his ears, and exhaustion crushed down upon him like a tidal wave.

It wasn’t fair.

A soft whimper escaped his lips as he began to let his arm fall, surrendering to the pull of oblivion. But before it could hit the ground, warm hands wrapped around his trembling fingers, catching him. The touch burned, searing against his skin, yet Adam couldn’t summon the strength to pull away. It stung, this connection—more than he could bear—but his body refused to obey his silent cries to escape.

Voices murmured above him, too distant, too distorted to comprehend. He thought he heard his name, thought someone was calling for him, but the pain, the exhaustion, drowned out everything else. He sobbed weakly, shaking his head as if to dislodge the agony, before sinking toward the ground again, surrendering to the waxy surface beneath him, craving nothing but the embrace of sleep.

"Why..." he whispered, or at least he thought he did. His voice was so faint, so lost. "I wish I were dead. I don’t want this anymore... I’m so tired..."

Suddenly, arms wrapped around him, strong and unyielding, lifting him before he could collapse back down. His face was pressed against a chest, and the sting of their touch flared through his nerves. He tried to resist, weakly pushing against them, but their hold was too tight, too firm. There was no escape.

And yet, as the warmth of their embrace held him fast, Adam felt something strange—an unspoken promise, a tether keeping him from falling into the darkness. But even in that moment, all he could think of was the unbearable weight of it all.

The pain. The exhaustion. And the whispered wish that it would just... end.

“I want to be dead.”

~#~

The next time Adam drifted into consciousness, the world around him felt strange, unfamiliar—like something from a dream that still clung to the edges of his mind. He was so tired, so utterly exhausted, and his entire body was wrapped in a deep, aching soreness that refused to fade. Every muscle, every inch of skin felt foreign to him, as though it didn’t quite belong.

Slowly, he forced his heavy eyes open, blinking as he stared up at the draped curtains hanging above him. He didn’t move, feeling as if he were both too heavy and too light at once, trapped in a body that no longer obeyed him. The soft, purple folds of fabric gathered between the four towering posts of a massive bed.

A bed. He was lying in a bed—one so vast, it made him feel small, which shouldn’t have been possible. Adam was over ten feet tall, yet here, he felt dwarfed.

His eyes fluttered closed again as he took a shaky breath, his chest trembling with the effort. It hurt, a searing pain that ran through his lungs as though he wasn’t meant to breathe like this anymore. He focused on the rhythm of his breathing, hoping the sensation would pass, but instead, it worsened. A sharp throb flared at the top of his skull, a maddening itch that grew with every beat of his heart. Panic flickered through him like a match struck in the darkness.

What was happening to him? Why was everything wrong? Where was he? Why did everything burn with such unbearable intensity?

His thoughts spiraled, and flashes of memory crashed over him like waves. The war. He had led an army—against Hell. No, not just Hell, but the Princess of Hell herself. The spoiled, naive fool who had no idea of the devastation she was courting. He had wanted to stop her, to make her see the consequences of what she was about to unleash on Heaven, on the Winners. The survivors.

Adam’s pulse quickened. Did no one truly understand what the Winners of Heaven were? They weren't just the righteous, the pure, the souls who followed God’s plan. No, the Winners were the survivors of unspeakable torment—humans who had endured hell on Earth and deserved peace. That was the essence of Heaven, the sanctuary for those who had suffered beyond reason. And the Princess of Hell, in her misguided quest for redemption, was threatening to undo it all. If she succeeded in redeeming a Sinner, what would happen? How would the Winners react?

Adam shuddered at the thought. The Winners weren’t just passive souls—they were warriors, survivors of the darkest trials. They had a power unlike anything even Heaven fully understood. And if they unleashed that power, it wouldn’t just be Hell that suffered. Heaven itself would be torn apart.

Lucifer.

Adam’s jaw clenched at the thought of that arrogant demon. The Morningstar had no idea what was truly at stake, what Heaven truly represented. He had humiliated Adam, beaten him, all because Adam had dared to protect the survivors—those who had suffered at the hands of their abusers. If the Princess succeeded, her reckless actions would incite a chaos neither Hell nor Heaven was prepared for.

And yet... Adam had failed. He had been defeated. During battle, someone—he couldn’t remember who—had snuck up behind him and struck the final blow. But it wasn’t just that. Lucifer had already broken him, leaving him weakened, humiliated. His death, when it came, had been almost a relief.

He had welcomed it.

Adam’s eyes snapped open. His vision was blurry, the world around him swimming in shades of red and purple. He blinked hard, trying to make sense of the shapes and shadows, but his heart sank as realization dawned. Those colours—those curtains—he knew where he was. And the truth was unbearable.

No... no, this can’t be. He couldn’t accept it.

Panic surged through him, and with a desperate grunt, Adam began to wriggle beneath the heavy quilts that pinned him down like chains. Every movement sent searing pain through his body, his muscles protesting as if they had been stripped raw. His chest heaved with the effort, and it felt like he was dragging something impossibly heavy along with him, a weight that wasn’t his but clung to his very soul.

With trembling arms, he forced himself up, biting back a scream as his body burned with every inch he moved. It felt like a monumental struggle just to sit upright, the heavy air pressing down on him as though the room itself conspired to keep him immobile. His hands clutched at the silken sheets, knuckles white as the realization clawed at his mind.

He was back in Hell.

And it was only the beginning of something far worse.

Dragging himself to the edge of the colossal bed, Adam twisted awkwardly, his body giving out before he could brace himself, collapsing heavily onto the cold floor. A sickening crack echoed through the room, and something inside him wrenched, unfamiliar and raw. Panic flooded his chest. He had to move—now. He had to escape before someone found him, before they came to see if he was still broken, still helpless.

How long had he been unconscious?

It didn’t matter. He had to get away before something else was taken from him, before he was humiliated again. The shame was already too much, a suffocating weight on his soul. He couldn’t bear it. Not again. It was always him—always Adam who crumbled under the boots of others. Always the one who was stepped on, laughed at, torn apart.

But not this time.

Not yet. Not so soon after... his death. Why was he still here? Why was he still trapped in this existence when he should have been freed? It wasn’t fair.

Adam’s limbs trembled violently as he struggled to move, but his body refused to obey. His arms and legs felt distant, alien—completely unresponsive. His feet wouldn’t lift him; his hands collapsed beneath his weight. The dark mist crept at the corners of his vision, curling like smoke around his consciousness.

Why?

His body had betrayed him. His strength had deserted him, leaving him defenseless, pathetic, like prey waiting for the predator’s strike. He couldn’t be here—not like this, not when he was so weak. The moment they found him, they would break him again, humiliate him, tear him apart.

Why? Why? Why?

"Adam!" A voice, frantic and sharp, called out from behind him, cutting through the fog clouding his mind. It came from the other side of the bed, filled with panic.

Adam’s chest felt as though it was about to shatter. His head spun wildly as he turned toward the voice, his blurred vision struggling to focus on the figure rushing toward him. His eyes widened in shock, his jaw slack. His arms shook violently as they tried to hold him upright, but he must have looked pathetic—a trembling, broken creature hunched awkwardly on the floor, freezing and disoriented.

The figure in white drew closer, their movements rapid and purposeful, but Adam barely registered them. All he could feel was the cold consuming him, seeping into his bones. Another figure lingered at the doorway, and a third stood on the other side of the bed, watching him intently.

His mouth opened, but the scream that ripped from his throat didn’t sound like his own. It was a raw, primal sound, something more beast than man—an unearthly shriek that echoed through the room, leaving Adam stunned. The others recoiled, their hands flying to their ears as the sound shattered the stillness. The figure in white froze mid-step, shocked by the inhuman scream.

But Adam wasn’t finished. Something was unfurling behind him, stretching out on either side of his trembling body. He didn’t know what it was, didn’t care. All he could see was the familiar shimmer of silver and blue, lightning-bright streaks zipping through the air as the energy expanded from him. It spread from his knees, seeping into the ground beneath him, forming a perfect, glowing pentagram.

"Adam!" the one in white yelled again, reaching out desperately. "Stop!"

But Adam could barely hear them over the roar in his mind, his own voice breaking through the madness as another scream tore from his throat.

"Why am I still alive?!"

The words echoed in the room, a question as desperate as it was furious, and then the world around him erupted in a blinding storm of silver and blue. Light filled every corner, obliterating the darkness, until finally, everything collapsed.

Silence descended.

Adam crumpled to the ground outside, his body curling tightly as the last of his strength drained away. His mind drifted toward the edges of consciousness, a peaceful emptiness overtaking the pain.

At least it was quiet here, in the stillness of oblivion.

Maybe now, at last... he could die.

~#~

Waking once more, Adam’s eyes bled silver and blue, the ethereal liquid streaking down his face like tears from another realm. Death had eluded him again, cruel and mocking, leaving him tethered to the world he so desperately wished to leave behind. He was alive—still breathing, still suffering. His soul ached for release, for the finality that would never come. Exhaustion clung to him like a shroud, each heartbeat a reminder of the torment he could not escape. All he wanted was for it to be over. To step off the ride, to finally find peace.

With a sharp, burning gasp, Adam stirred. His body shifted, finding itself curled tightly between the gnarled roots of an ancient tree, its pulse faintly humming beneath him. His skin prickled with unease as he tilted his head back, gazing upward through bleary, stinging eyes. Above, the branches stretched high, their once vibrant leaves now brittle and decaying, drifting down in slow spirals as if mourning their own demise. The bark, though alien to him—unlike any tree from Heaven or Earth—had a strange, almost alive texture. He squirmed, dislodging himself from the roots’ tight embrace, crawling slowly from his resting place.

As he glanced back, he saw the imprint his body had left on the bark, as though he had tried to meld with the tree itself. The bark appeared to have absorbed part of him, as if it had become a part of his essence. An impulse to reach out, to touch it again, gripped him, but he resisted. Something was terribly wrong. His instincts screamed in warning, a whisper of dread curling around his thoughts.

Slowly, Adam’s gaze drifted across the grass beneath him, noticing the withering of the once-lush greenery. The vibrant blades had become dry and brittle, curling in on themselves, as though the life had been drained from them. They crumbled at his touch, turning to dust between his fingers. A creeping sense of decay hung in the air, growing heavier with every breath he took.

Groaning as his knees cracked and snapped, Adam ignored the sharp sounds of his bones as they protested the movement. He crawled forward slightly and sat amidst the ruin, surveying the place he found himself in—a place that felt like a park, with trees and grass, but distorted. Wrong. He was still in Hell; he could feel it. The telltale red mist swirled through the air, thick and heavy, and the sky above held the familiar sinful hue of dusty crimson, broken only by the stark white orb of Heaven shining faintly in the distance.

But something was terribly amiss. The garden around him, once filled with life, was decaying before his eyes. Colours drained from the world, turning to muted browns and greys, the vibrancy crumbling into lifeless ash. It was as if something was devouring the very essence of this place, siphoning its vitality away.

Adam’s chest tightened with dread. What was happening?

Adam dragged himself through Hell's garden, the once lush and vibrant world wilting under his very touch. His fingers dug into the crumbling earth, pulling his exhausted body forward as he felt something—something heavy—attached to his back, dragging along the ground behind him. He didn’t dare look at it, too weak to confront whatever grotesque thing clung to him. Instead, he kept his gaze ahead, watching the grass around him slowly die, the green blades blackening and withering to ash.

Above, the trees groaned as their branches trembled, fruit falling from their limbs. Adam’s eyes caught a flash of orange as one tumbled to the earth. He paused, staring at it as it rolled to a stop just within reach. It was an orange—once bright and plump—but even as he watched, it shrivelled, darkening as mold crept across its surface, turning it black and rotten. The putrid smell hit him like a wave, but still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Life here was slipping into death, drained of its essence before his very eyes.

He kept crawling, his hands the only means to move his broken body. His fingers sank into the brittle grass, which disintegrated beneath his touch. With each pull, it felt as though he was dragging the weight of a thousand souls behind him, an unseen burden shackled to his spine. His feet wouldn’t support him—he knew that much. They were useless, numb. All he had were his hands, and they were trembling.

At last, he reached the edge of a pond—a small, still body of water framed by red roses and carnations that lined its banks. Adam paused, staring. The scene was hauntingly familiar. He had seen this place before. He had been here. He recognized the way the water shimmered, the way the flowers bloomed, the pair of ducks that glided across the surface without a care. He could almost hear the memory whispering to him, as if from a life long forgotten.

But even here, in this last vestige of beauty, death was encroaching. He watched as the roses began to droop, their petals browning, curling inward before falling away into dust. The carnations followed suit, their vibrant hues turning a dull, lifeless grey as they crumbled into the earth. Adam’s breath hitched, the garden around him collapsing into decay, the blackened grass creeping ever closer to the pond.

Panic seized him as he turned his gaze back to the ducks, still swimming, unaware of the dying world around them. He tried to cry out, to warn them, but his voice failed him—nothing but a strangled whine escaped his throat. Desperate, he reached out a trembling hand, as if he could stop the inevitable, but it was too late.

The ducks froze. Their feathers darkened and their forms withered, collapsing in on themselves as though time had cruelly fast-forwarded their lives. In mere moments, they had turned to skeletal remains, their bones sinking beneath the murky surface of the pond. The water rippled briefly, then stilled, as if nothing had ever lived there at all.

A horrified cry escaped Adam’s lips, his chest tightening in anguish. His tears—those strange silver and blue droplets—fell freely now, sliding down his cheeks and staining the ground below him. He wheezed, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as panic gripped his chest. The world around him was unravelling, and he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t understand what was happening, why everything he touched seemed to rot and die.

His vision blurred, the edges of his mind fraying, until something caught his eye. The pond. Even in its stillness, the water remained reflective, its surface like a dark mirror. For a moment, Adam hesitated, but the pull was too strong to resist. Slowly, with shaking hands, he dragged himself to the edge of the pond, his long fingers curling around the damp earth at its banks.

Leaning forward, he gazed into the water.

There, in the blackened reflection, was a face he barely recognized.

It was him—but not him. His eyes glowed faintly with silver and blue, the same colours that bled from his tears.

Adam gazed into the still surface of the pond, his breath catching in his throat as the reflection staring back at him took form. He blinked, refusing to believe the grotesque figure he saw was him, but no amount of denial could erase the haunting image. What looked back was a twisted mockery of what he once had been—a shadow of the Archangel he was.

Two small horns jutted out from the sides of his head, emerging through his thick, dark hair. Between them floated small fragments of bones, like a fractured halo suspended in a macabre orbit around his head. His face was part flesh, part bone, his eyes deeply sunken into skeletal sockets. But it was the colors of his eyes that truly chilled him: light blue sclera encased piercing green pupils, a reversed and unnatural reflection of the angelic light he once knew. His hair was a deep, ink-black cascade streaked with pale blue, as if frost had kissed the darkest night, the strands shimmering with faint highlights, both ethereal and eerie.

Adam’s arms stretched before him, thin and skeletal, his fingers bruised and pale, almost translucent as they hovered above the pond. They weren’t claws, nor did he have sharp teeth or monstrous fangs—no, what unnerved him was the hollow, fragile appearance of his limbs. He looked as though he had been drained of life, a mere shell of the vibrant creature he once was.

But what truly paralyzed him—what left him trembling, breathless—were the things attached to his back. His gaze, hesitant and terrified, shifted slowly, his heart pounding in a ghostly echo that seemed to drop into the pit of his stomach. His body shook as, ever so slowly, six enormous wings rose and stretched on either side of him. They were not the radiant, feathered wings of an angel. They were made entirely of bone, skeletal, devoid of life or warmth. They stretched wide, casting shadows over the withered garden as if they themselves consumed the light.

He swallowed hard as the truth struck him like a blade to the heart—he was the one draining the life from the garden. It was his presence that withered the trees, sucked the life from the grass, and rotted the fruit. His very existence seemed to poison everything around him. He froze in place, trembling, unable to tear his eyes away from the devastation spreading across the landscape. The vibrant flowers wilted, crumbling into brittle, lifeless husks, the trees withered and bore no more fruit, and the air itself seemed to grow colder and darker in his wake.

With this horrifying revelation, Adam found himself able to stand. His legs were shaky, barely able to support his weight, but he forced himself up. He was dressed in nothing but an oversized black t-shirt that hung down to his mid-thigh, loose and ill-fitting as if mocking the frailty of his new form. His breath came in shallow, panicked gasps as he took a step forward, his feet shuffling through the dying grass. Each step he took seemed to leech the life from the earth beneath him. The trees bowed, their branches heavy with rot, and the air grew thick with decay as he unconsciously fed off the energy around him.

Adam’s gaze fell upon the ducks—the innocent creatures that had once swum peacefully in the pond. Now, their skeletal remains rested on the water's surface, sunken and lifeless. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as the weight of his existence pressed down on him.

What had he become?

What kind of monster was he now? Why had he been twisted into this grotesque parody of an Archangel?

Suddenly, his chest burned. A sharp pain shot through him, and he winced, glancing down. The star-shaped scar on his chest—the wound that was supposed to have killed him—began to glow, flickering with an eerie blend of silver and blue light. It pulsed in time with his breathing, as though the very scar itself was alive, tethered to whatever dark magic had transformed him.

Stumbling backward, Adam tripped over a root and fell to the ground with a thud. He scrambled to his feet, turning sharply—only to find himself facing a looming pillar. A shrine. It stood tall and imposing, bathed in a strange, pulsing glow. And resting atop the shrine, shining with an ethereal golden light, was a single apple.

The moment his eyes fell upon it, Adam knew what it was. The Apple of Knowledge. The very fruit that had torn apart his life, had brought the first sin into the world. Two distinct bite marks marred its surface—the marks of Lilith and Eve. A shiver ran down his spine, colder than anything he had ever felt before. The magic radiating from the apple was intoxicating, vibrant, filled with life and light. It pulsed with an energy that was the antithesis of everything he had become.

Adam reached out, his hand trembling as it hovered closer to the cursed fruit. He could feel the warmth of its magic, the life it offered, but something inside him—deep, dark, and instinctive—reached back toward it. His hand extended, fingers trembling as he stretched toward the apple, drawn by some unseen force.

The thing that had ruined him, the thing that had caused everything to spiral into chaos, was now within his reach. Yet as his fingers neared the glowing apple, the darkness inside him stirred, awakening something ancient and hungry.

Adam’s breath quickened. He hesitated, the weight of eternity bearing down on his fragile soul as his hand hovered inches from the fruit of knowledge.

"Adam!" a familiar voice tore through the air, sharp and desperate, snapping him from his trance as if yanking him back from the edge of oblivion.

Adam flinched, his skeletal feet trembling as he stumbled away from the pillar. His wide eyes, dark and hollow, were unfocused, as if his mind wasn’t fully present. Slowly, his gaze drifted toward the figure standing before him—the one responsible for all his ruin, the one who had torn him apart and left him shattered time and again.

Lucifer.

He stood there, flustered and breathless, his usually composed face flushed with a rosy hue, his striking red pupils wide with fear and disbelief. His skin, pale and immaculate, glowed with the warmth of life, his cheeks tinted a delicate shade of pink. His hair, golden blonde with soft coral streaks woven through the pale strands, cascaded down his shoulders like sunlight caught in a gentle breeze. Dressed in a pristine white suit, Lucifer looked every bit the angel he once was, but his expression betrayed him—too many emotions flickered across his face in rapid succession, as though he couldn’t quite grasp what he was witnessing.

Lucifer’s enormous wings, a breathtaking blend of white feathers tinged with red, stretched out behind him, trembling slightly as if mirroring the chaos in his soul. He looked upon Adam, not with anger, but with a raw, anxious desperation, his heart visibly torn. He couldn't believe it—couldn’t fathom that it was Adam wreaking such havoc.

“Adam, you have to stop!” Lucifer’s voice broke with urgency, his words almost pleading. “You need to stop before it’s too late!”

But Adam just stared at him, unblinking, as if Lucifer’s words were an alien language he could no longer understand. A hollow laugh bubbled up inside him, though it never left his lips. Instead, all he felt was emptiness—an overwhelming void that left him cold, shivering, and numb.

“Please, Adam,” Lucifer’s voice softened, cracking at the edges. “You’ll kill everyone... you’ll hurt Charlie if you don’t stop.”

Golden sparks of magic began to shimmer around Lucifer, swirling in the air like embers of light, but Adam was blind to it. His body trembled, not from fear, but from something far deeper—a profound emptiness that gnawed at his soul, threatening to consume him whole.

And then, almost as if a dam had broken inside him, Adam’s voice tore through the air, his scream ragged and inhuman.

“Why...” His voice was barely a whisper at first, choked and broken. “Why didn’t you kill me?!”

The words erupted from him with such force that it felt like his very soul had split open. His throat burned as the screech reverberated through the air, twisted and raw, sending shockwaves of agony through his body. The darkness inside him, the festering void that had grown and coiled in his chest, flared violently, crashing against his ribcage like a beast seeking to break free.

And then, with a sudden roar, silver and blue magic exploded from him, crackling like furious lightning. It surged outward, chaotic and destructive, colliding with Lucifer’s golden-red magic that spiralled toward him in a desperate attempt to contain the storm. Their powers met with a deafening clash, sending shockwaves ripping through the garden like a hurricane unleashed from the very depths of Hell.

The once-beautiful garden, Lucifer’s sanctuary, was torn apart in seconds. Trees that had stood for centuries were uprooted and thrown across the desolate landscape. Flowers, once vibrant and fragrant, withered instantly, their petals crumbling to dust in the raging wind. The earth itself seemed to split open, groaning beneath the weight of their combined magic.

Everything Lucifer had spent years creating…gone.

Lucifer, for all his strength and grace, struggled to keep his footing. His boots skidded across the soil—the same soil he had lovingly tended to for countless hours, the soil of his sanctuary that now lay in ruin. But he had no time to grieve the loss of his beloved garden. His wings flared out behind him, struggling to shield him from the brutal force of Adam’s magic. His arms rose instinctively to cover his face, but even that seemed barely enough to hold back the searing heat of the silver and blue flames that crackled before him.

“Adam!” he screamed again, his voice raw with desperation, but the storm between them swallowed his cry.

The chaotic swirl of magic grew hotter, more violent, each pulse of energy warping the very air around them. It was as if the magic was feeding off the destruction, growing wilder, hungrier with every passing second.

The world around them blurred, torn apart by the force of their powers clashing together. Lucifer’s heart ached as he fought against the tide of devastation, his soul pleading for Adam to stop, to see reason, but all he could feel was the suffocating weight of Adam’s sorrow and rage.

And beneath it all, the same question echoed in his mind, over and over—Why didn’t I kill him?

Why didn’t I kill him when I found him alive again?

But no answer came. Only the howling wind and the crackling of their deadly magic filled the air as the remnants of the garden continued to fall apart around them.

Horror clawed its way into Adam's very soul as the full weight of the truth settled in like a stone in his chest. He was the opposite of Lucifer in every imaginable way. Lucifer, with his golden magic that breathed life and creation into the world, stood as a beacon of beauty and celestial grace. Adam’s magic, by contrast, was a force of destruction—silver, corrosive, and cold. Where Lucifer’s halo shone with light, Adam’s was a ghastly ring of darkness, fragments of bone that hovered in a grotesque parody of divinity. Lucifer embodied radiance, but Adam... Adam was a twisted figure of decay, a living effigy of death.

And then, in a heartbeat, everything stopped. The chaos that had spiraled around them moments before stilled, as if the world itself had drawn a sharp breath and held it. Silence fell, heavy and oppressive.

Adam staggered backward, horror flooding his veins like ice. His mismatched eyes—green and blue, so wide they hurt—were clouded with disbelief. He felt as though he were drowning in the weight of his own being. A dizzying pulse throbbed at his temples, his head swimming as he arched his back, his skeletal wings trembling on either side of him, quivering under the weight of his agony.

And then he saw it—his shadow, misshapen and grotesque, stretching out beneath him like a harrowing specter. A sob tore from his throat at the sight, a raw, anguished sound.

His hands shot up before him, his fingers bruised and skeletal, trembling with the weight of his disgust.

“What am I?” he gasped, voice cracking as tears of silver and blue welled in his sunken eyes. “What have I become?”

Lucifer, mere feet away, was barely able to stand. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body screaming for rest. His own magic, golden and warm, had shrunken inward, drained and depleted from the effort of containing the chaos of Adam’s power. It had been too much—too young, too volatile. If Lucifer had faltered for even a moment, Adam’s destructive magic could have consumed Hell and Heaven alike. The weight of this realization pressed heavily on Lucifer’s chest, his heart pounding in the aftermath of the storm. His claws dug into his knees as he fought for breath, his whole body aching as though it had been torn apart and hastily stitched back together.

He blinked through the haze of exhaustion, lifting his gaze to where Adam had collapsed onto his skeletal knees, the wings of bone and dark feathers draped limply around him. Adam’s figure was so broken, so full of anguish, that Lucifer’s heart ached in a way it hadn’t for millennia.

“Adam...” Lucifer began, his voice barely more than a whisper, soft and deliberate, as though he were approaching a wounded, dangerous creature. Each step he took was cautious, his limbs heavy with exhaustion, but he pressed forward.

Adam’s head snapped up, his eyes wild and frantic as they locked onto Lucifer’s. And before Lucifer could react, Adam lunged forward. His skeletal fingers latched onto Lucifer’s pristine white jacket, clutching it with a desperation so raw it sent a tremor through Lucifer’s core.

“Kill me!” Adam’s voice broke, the words tumbling from his lips in ragged sobs. “Please, kill me!”

The tears flowed freely now silver and blue streaks painting his gaunt cheeks. His voice trembled, each word a struggle as his throat throbbed with the strain of his pleading. His hands tightened their grip on Lucifer’s jacket, tugging helplessly as he begged for release.

“You need to kill me! I can’t live like this!” Adam’s voice cracked again; each word laced with despair. “I want to die! Please... kill me.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened in shock, his body jolting as Adam’s weight tugged on him, pulling him forward and backward with each desperate plea. His hands instinctively rose, hovering in the air, unsure whether to push Adam away or hold him closer. His lips parted, but the words caught in his throat, tangled in the raw emotion that had suddenly consumed them both.

“A-Adam, I...” Lucifer stammered, his voice thick with uncertainty, his chest aching as he struggled to find words. But what could he say to this broken, haunted creature before him? He, too, was lost in the swirling chaos of their shared past—of wounds too deep to heal, of choices that had led them to this desolate place.

But Adam’s trembling form clinging to him, begging for death... Lucifer had no words for this. No way to undo the pain. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

“Kill me, Luci! You need to kill me!” Adam’s sobs tore through the quiet, his voice breaking as blue and silver tears spilled down his gaunt cheeks. His skeletal wings drooped lifelessly to the ground, the bones scraping softly against the cracked earth on either side of him. His whole body trembled with the weight of his anguish, his hollow cries echoing like the lament of a lost soul.

“I was supposed to die, Luci. I shouldn’t be here! I don’t want to be here!”

At the sound of that name—Luci—a shudder ran through Lucifer’s entire body, freezing him in place. Adam hadn’t called him that since Eden, since before the fall, before he had left with Lilith and turned his back on Heaven. It was a name laced with the memory of something far simpler, far more innocent. Lucifer's chest constricted painfully, a burn spreading through him that hadn’t surfaced in centuries. The name clawed at old wounds, ripping them open in ways Lucifer hadn’t expected.

His hands shook uncontrollably as he struggled to catch his breath, his heart hammering in his chest as though it might shatter beneath the weight of Adam's plea. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Lucifer raised his trembling hands, jerking slightly before finally resting them on Adam’s shoulders. The touch was tentative, unsure. His voice, when he finally spoke, was soft and almost broken.

“I can’t...” The words barely made it past his lips, fragile and uncertain.

Adam’s response was immediate, shaking his head as he cried harder, his body wracked with sobs that tore from the depths of his soul.

“Why not?!” His voice was laced with desperation, the agony of someone who had already lost everything.

“I-I just can’t, Adam…” Lucifer stammered, his own wings beginning to mirror Adam’s, drooping low and heavy as if they shared the same unbearable weight. The once-majestic feathers, streaked with white and red, now seemed dulled in the shadow of his anguish.

“I can’t kill you. I-I... I won’t.”

Lucifer’s voice trembled as he spoke, his chest tightening with every word, with every refusal to grant Adam the one thing he begged for. It wasn’t defiance. It wasn’t cruelty. It was something else—something Lucifer didn’t have the strength to name. His hands tightened their hold on Adam’s shoulders, as if grounding himself in the fragile moment between them, unwilling to let go. His breath hitched again, the agony of their shared past and broken present pressing down on him like a weight he could no longer carry.

Adam’s cries continued, his body collapsing beneath the weight of his despair, but Lucifer stood frozen, his heart torn between an impossible decision. How could he grant Adam’s wish? How could he be the one to end it all, when every piece of him screamed to protect what little remained?

“Please, please, kill me. I don’t want to be here anymore.” He hiccupped pitifully.

“I-I just can’t, Adam…” Lucifer gasped, shaking himself. “I can’t kill you. I-I… I won’t.”

At those words, something inside Adam snapped. His sobbing morphed into a cry of rage, his blue and silver magic crackling violently in the air around them.

“I hate you!” he screamed, the words ripping from his throat like a curse. “You ruined my life! You took everything from me!”

His fists clenched, and he pounded them weakly against Lucifer’s chest, though it wasn’t the physical blows that hurt—it was the weight of Adam’s words. “I have never asked you for anything, Luci! Not once! But this… I ask you for this, and you can’t even do it!”

Lucifer stood still, his expression softening, though his heart broke with every word. He didn’t flinch as Adam’s magic lashed out, the chaotic tendrils of blue and silver sparking in the air. He simply listened, his heart aching, guilt weighing heavy in his chest.

“You were my Archangel! My best friend!” Adam continued, his voice cracking under the strain of emotion. “I adored you more than anyone. But you—you betrayed me in the worst possible way! You left me… you hurt me… and I’ve never recovered from that. The pain is still there, festering inside me! And it wasn’t because Lilith left me, that she chose someone else. I could’ve survived that. But what destroyed me was that it was you!”

Adam’s voice broke as he cried out in anguish. “You, Lucifer! The person I trusted more than anyone else. The one I cared about the most! And you—you took her from me. I could never heal from that betrayal! It tore me apart, and it’s never stopped hurting.”

Lucifer’s eyes glistened, his face still, but the pain of Adam’s words cut deeper than any wound. He stood in silence, absorbing every accusation, every ounce of hatred. He deserved it all.

Adam’s magic flared again, wild and uncontrollable.

“You took everything!” he screamed, the rage and sorrow blending into something raw, primal. “You took Lilith! Fine, I could live with that. But then you took Eve! What the hell was I supposed to do?! Did you want me to be alone for my entire life? You took them both! Both! All I ever wanted was to be loved! To belong! But you—you cast me aside, left me in the cold, just like everyone else!”

Adam’s tears streamed down, his voice cracking as he screamed, “I hate you, Lucifer! You’ve always hurt me!”

Lucifer’s knees buckled under the weight of Adam’s words, and slowly, he sank to the ground. Adam weakly hit him on the chest, fists thudding against the fabric of his white suit, but the blows quickly gave way to broken sobs. Without hesitation, Lucifer wrapped his arms around Adam, pulling him close, hugging him tightly. His voice was soft, trembling with regret.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I am a terrible Archangel. A terrible friend. I never wanted to hurt you… I never meant for any of this…”

“But you did!” Adam sobbed. “You’re always hurting me! Every choice you make, every decision—it always ends with me suffering!”

Lucifer squeezed him tighter, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought… I thought you’d come around eventually, that—”

“Come around to what?!” Adam interrupted, his voice hollow with disbelief. “You took my only friends! Left me all alone! If Eve hadn’t bitten that apple, I would’ve been in Eden for centuries, alone, because I couldn’t handle someone leaving me again. Is that what you wanted? Is that what you thought would happen?”

“No…” Lucifer whispered, shaking his head, but the words faltered on his tongue. “No, Adam, I wasn’t thinking like that. I just… I wanted everyone to be free. To make their own choices.”

“You were being selfish!” Adam screamed, his voice rising with the chaos of his magic, silver and blue lightning sparking and crackling around them. “You’ve always been selfish, Luci! Every decision you’ve ever made has led to me suffering!”

Lucifer flinched, the truth of Adam’s words hitting him hard. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

But Adam wasn’t finished. His eyes blazed with fury, his magic lashing out in uncontrolled arcs. “You’re still selfish! You don’t even know why Heaven does what it does, why it’s so important to protect the Winners! Do you even understand what it would mean if Charlie managed to redeem a Sinner? Why the Exterminations are so critical?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened in shock, confusion clouding his features.

Adam scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course, you don’t know. You don’t know anything! Hell is filled with abusers, Lucifer! Every Sinner is someone who hurt another soul—who enjoyed hurting them. Every Sinner committed a crime, and every one of them has a victim in Heaven! The Winners are the ones who survived their sins, and now Charlie’s trying to paradise their abusers!”

Lucifer opened his mouth to speak but no words came. He was utterly stunned, caught in the truth of Adam’s words.

Adam’s voice trembled with anger as he continued, “It’s not about second chances. It’s about whether the survivors can live in a paradise knowing their abusers are there too. Every decision Heaven made was to protect the survivors from Hell’s rotten souls.”

Lucifer could only listen in stunned silence as Adam revealed the harsh truth.

“Lilith isn’t trapped in Heaven,” Adam said, his voice quiet but filled with bitter sorrow. “She chose to stay. She saw the survivors, saw what those humans did to them. She’s up there helping them, not because Heaven forced her, but because she wanted to.”

Lucifer's head spun, the world crumbling beneath the weight of this revelation. Everything he had believed, everything he had fought for—it all felt meaningless now. He had been so wrong. So blind.

But the realization brought no comfort to Adam. Seeing Lucifer’s defeated expression didn’t ease his pain. It only made it worse. Adam sobbed harder; his broken heart laid bare.

“Please,” he whispered, the tears choking him. “Just… kill me.”

But once again, Lucifer’s answer was the same.

“No.”

Adam sagged backward, the weight of everything crushing down on him, his head hanging hopelessly, defeat rippling through every inch of his frame. His wings, those macabre skeletal structures draped with trembling blue feathers, drooped even lower, dragging against the ashen ground.

“I hate you so much,” he whispered, his voice hollow and ragged, as if the very words drained the last of his strength.

“I know,” Lucifer responded quietly, his voice thick with a sorrow that mirrored Adam’s despair. He tightened his arms around Adam, pulling him closer as if trying to meld their broken pieces together.

“I hate myself too.”

Neither of them spoke after that. In the silence, the ruins of Lucifer’s Eden replica stretched out around them, the once beautiful imitation of paradise now little more than a graveyard of dreams long dead. Their breaths mingled in the stillness, both clinging to each other, neither wanting to let go, yet neither knowing how to move forward. It was a quiet, desperate embrace, filled with all the things they had never been able to say.

Finally, Adam, voice low and hesitant, broke the silence. “What do you want from me?”

Lucifer didn’t answer right away. His grip tightened slightly, as though afraid that letting go would shatter what fragile connection remained between them. When he finally spoke, he pulled back just enough to meet Adam’s eyes, his gaze filled with a tenderness that was almost painful to behold. His hand reached up to touch the blue circle that was now imprinted on Adam’s cheek, a dark and sad reflection of what once might have been divine grace.

“I loved you,” Lucifer whispered, his fingers tracing the edge of the mark gently. The circle glowed faintly, like a dying ember. “I loved you so much, but my affection—it was too much for you. And for that… for that, I am deeply sorry.”

Adam blinked, confusion crossing his face as he furrowed his brow. He didn’t understand what Lucifer was trying to say, and it only made the ache in his chest throb harder. “What are you talking about?”

Lucifer leaned in closer, his voice a soft breath against Adam’s skin. “I want to make a deal with you.”

The moment the words left Lucifer’s mouth, Adam recoiled violently, yanking himself out of Lucifer’s arms with a sudden surge of anger. He stumbled backward, struggling to his feet, his wings flaring wide in frustration.

“A deal?” he spat, eyes flashing with fury. “You think I’m stupid? You want to bind me to a contract where you own my soul, don’t you? Just like you do with everyone else in Hell!”

His voice was sharp, every syllable dripping with bitter resentment. “I’ll never give you that! You’ve already taken everything from me, Lucifer! The last thing I have is my soul, and I’ll be damned if I ever give that to you.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, his hand shooting out to grab Adam by the wrist before he could storm off. “Wait, please—just listen to me.”

Adam growled; his voice dangerously low.

“You’re such a hypocrite,” he hissed, his blue and silver magic beginning to spark dangerously around them again. “For someone who claims to care so much about freedom, about letting humans choose for themselves, you’re awfully eager to take that freedom away. You’re no better than Heaven, Lucifer.”

Lucifer flinched, Adam’s words cutting deep. His grip on Adam’s wrist tightened, but there was no force behind it, only desperation. “I don’t make deals to trap souls, not anymore. That’s not what this is. It’s different. This is different.”

Adam scoffed, pulling his wrist out of Lucifer’s grasp as he glared at him.

“How is it different?” he demanded, the fury in his voice only barely concealing the hurt that still lingered beneath.

Lucifer slowly stood, stepping toward Adam with deliberate caution. He moved close, too close, and looped an arm around Adam’s middle, pulling him back against his chest. His other hand rose once more to touch the sad blue mark on Adam’s cheek.

“Because this time,” Lucifer said, his voice a quiet murmur against the top of Adam’s head, “You’ll own my soul too.”

Adam frowned, the anger giving way to confusion.

“What?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. “Why would you do that?”

Lucifer’s expression softened; his gaze filled with a rare sincerity that Adam had almost forgotten he was capable of. “Your new power… it’s unstable, dangerous. If what you said is true, that Heaven wants to protect the Winners—if they see you as a threat—they’ll come after you.”

Lucifer’s face darkened at the thought. “And I won’t let that happen.”

Adam scoffed quietly, the bitterness returning as he shook his head. “Why would you stop them? If they kill me, that’s exactly what I want.”

Lucifer growled softly, tightening his hold around Adam, pulling him even closer until their bodies pressed together.

“I’m not letting that happen,” he said firmly, his voice low and warning. “How am I supposed to make up for what I did if I let you die?”

Adam laughed bitterly, a harsh, broken sound. “You seriously think you can make up for all the pain you’ve caused?”

He shook his head, disbelieving. “You’re delusional, Lucifer. I’ll never agree to this.”

Lucifer shrugged, a wide, face splitting grin pulled at the corner of his lips. “Every beginning is born from a bit of insanity.”

Adam rolled his eyes, biting his bottom lip anxiously as he mulled over Lucifer’s words. The weight of the offer hung heavy between them, and the truth of it—the sheer absurdity of it—began to settle in.

“Why would you offer up your own soul?” Adam asked after a long pause, his voice quieter, more hesitant now. “What do you get out of this?”

Lucifer’s grin widened, but it was softer this time, more genuine.

“Because if you own my soul too,” he said, brushing his thumb gently against Adam’s cheek, “You’ll know that I’m not just playing with you. You’ll have power over me, just like I would over you. It wouldn’t be one-sided.”

Adam’s frown deepened, but he couldn’t hide the way his heart raced, the way the offer twisted something inside him. It was tempting. Too tempting.

Lucifer’s eyes never left Adam’s as he whispered, “This way, you’ll never have to doubt my intentions again.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Adam was silent, the weight of Lucifer’s words sinking deep into his soul. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to feel.

Adam stood there, frozen, his heart a mess of conflict and confusion. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn’t want Lucifer to make amends or try to fix the past. He was tired. Bone-deep exhaustion pulled at every part of him. After centuries of existence—living through Eden, Earth, and Heaven—there was nothing left to strive for, no new desires to chase. He had lived a full life, endured countless betrayals, heartbreaks, and wars. Now, all he wanted was rest. He wanted the release of death. Finally. After so long.

As if sensing Adam's inner turmoil, Lucifer leaned in closer, his breath warm against Adam’s lips. It sent a shock through Adam's body, making him stiffen, his eyes widening in confusion.

Lucifer’s voice was a low, intimate whisper, his words caressing the air between them. "You haven’t experienced everything yet, Adam."

Adam’s brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucifer’s lips curled into a teasing grin, and he ran his claws through Adam’s hair, sending shivers down Adam’s spine. “You once said that I wanted you to be alone, that I took everyone from you. And you’re right. I was selfish. I hurt you, more than I could ever make up for.”

His tone softened, becoming almost mournful. “But that doesn’t mean I never wanted you.”

Adam eyed him suspiciously, the old wounds of betrayal still too raw, too deep.

“Are you only saying that because you want the full set?” he asked bitterly, his voice dripping with resentment.

Lucifer chuckled softly, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes... and no. I loved all three of you back in Eden—Lilith, Eve... and you. But I was blinded by my own pride. I lost sight of you, Adam. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Adam frowned deeply, his arms crossing over his chest defensively. “I’m not into poly,” he muttered.

Lucifer's grin softened, a knowing look in his eyes. “Neither am I. If you’re willing, it would just be the two of us. No one else.”

Adam blinked, the weight of Lucifer’s words sinking in. “In this contract?”

Lucifer shook his head, correcting gently, “No. In a relationship.”

The word sent a sharp pang through Adam’s chest, his breath catching. He couldn’t stop the doubt from creeping into his voice as he asked, “Are you only doing this out of pity? Out of guilt?”

Lucifer didn’t flinch, his gaze unwavering as he met Adam’s eyes. “I won’t lie. Maybe guilt plays a part, but my love for you is real. It always has been. Just as much as I loved Lilith and Eve... maybe even more.”

His voice was a tender confession, raw and honest. “My greatest sin wasn’t falling or rebelling. It was not finding you after Eden. I should have come back for you.”

Adam wanted to scoff, to brush Lucifer’s words aside as manipulative lies, but there was something in Lucifer’s eyes—a vulnerability he hadn’t seen in ages.

“I don’t believe you,” Adam whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Lucifer, not missing a beat, reached for Adam’s hand, pressing it firmly against his own chest. Beneath Adam’s palm, Lucifer’s heart pounded erratically, the rapid rhythm betraying the King of Hell’s own unease.

“Feel that?” Lucifer whispered; his voice almost desperate. “I want you, Adam. I want to be with you.”

Adam swallowed thickly, a lump forming in his throat.

“If I agree to this,” he whispered, his voice harsh with emotion, “And you fail—if you hurt me again—you have to kill me.”

Lucifer's face tightened, a frown forming as he instinctively began to protest. “Adam, I—”

But Adam cut him off, covering Lucifer’s mouth with his hand. “That’s the only way I’ll agree to this contract, Lucifer. You have to kill me if you fail.”

Lucifer’s golden eyes darkened with displeasure, his jaw tightening beneath Adam’s palm. He wanted to snarl, to refuse, but Adam was right—he was the King of Lies, the Father of Deception. A sly smirk crept onto Lucifer’s lips, and after a tense moment, he nodded, his eyes gleaming with that familiar wickedness.

“Of course,” he purred, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “If I fail to make you love me in return, I’ll do as you ask.”

But even as he agreed, Lucifer’s fingers crossed behind his back. He had no intention of fulfilling that end of the bargain. After all, failure wasn’t an option. He wouldn’t let it be.

Adam, too weary and conflicted to see through Lucifer’s subtle lie, let his guard down. He sighed, the exhaustion in his soul weighing him down.

“Fine,” he muttered reluctantly. “I agree.”

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed with triumph, but his expression softened as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Adam’s in a kiss that was both gentle and filled with an undercurrent of something far more dangerous. As their lips met, golden and red magic shimmered around them like flames, dancing in the air, while Adam’s silver and blue magic crackled in response, sharp like lightning. Their powers intertwined, a storm of fire and lightning swirling around them as the contract was sealed.

A golden chain appeared around Adam’s throat, gleaming like a collar, while a silver chain coiled around Lucifer’s neck, binding them together, locking them into this shared fate. For a moment, time seemed to still. Their lips remained pressed together, the raw intensity of the magic burning between them, sealing their souls inextricably to one another for all eternity.

When they finally pulled apart, Adam’s eyes were glazed with a mixture of emotions—rage, sorrow, and a flicker of something else he wasn’t ready to name.

Lucifer, his gaze locked on Adam’s, whispered softly, “We’re bound now. For the rest of eternity.”

Adam swallowed hard; his throat tight as he struggled to breathe. The weight of the chains, both literal and metaphorical, settled around him. He was trapped. Bound. But somewhere, in the deepest, darkest part of his heart, a spark of hope flickered, hope that maybe, just maybe, Lucifer wouldn’t fail this time.

But Adam wasn’t naive. He had learned the hard way that love, especially the kind of love Lucifer offered, always came with a price.

“You’ll fail. You’ll kill me.” Adam grumbled.

Lucifer leant in for another kiss, brushing his lips against Adam’s. “I don’t think I will.”

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #fanfic #lucifer x adam #au #guitarduck #fanficiton #Sinner Adam #Adam comes back as a Sinner #Powerful Adam #hazbin hotel adam #acedia #Acedia Adam

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neonovember · 2 years ago

Text

Golden Boy

part three of three

warnings; filth, angst, lover boy, self deprecation, anxiety, mentions of death, smut, heartbreak, fluff, face fucking, oral (m recieving), piv (wrap it yall), 18+, explicit language, Richie, carmen being in love, the nickname bear, some very not so slef inserted heartbreak and love confessions

w/c: 6k

a/n: this request really changed from a drabble to a 3 part series holy fuck i need a job, but really this is actually so self fulfilling to be able to deliver your requests about a character i love we all love so much! it’s like we’ve created this aesome little community here :) i love this universe sooo much so be sure there will be drabbles connected to this series

BEAR COMES OUT IN LESS THAN A DAY! LET’S START AMPING IT UP

also if anyone was wondering how i’d imagine high school!carmen it would honestly be this one edit i saw of lip ages ago lmaoo

The dull rain of the shower resounded through your bathroom, the rest of your things had been delivered in the early Friday morning, and you rushed to enjoy the high water pressure Mae had boasted about before you moved in.

The steam has begun to fog up your mirror, and you wipe a hand across it, your reflection distorted between the streaks of your fingertips. Today was the day. You would finally see Carmen again and your body was racked with fear like it was the day you left him.

After you had come back from the Farmers Market, you had received a text from Sugar, and you spent the afternoon unloading everything to her about work, your move back and most importantly Carmen.

You and Sugar had grown close after you and Carmen had become friends, in fact, you had grown close to the entire family before you left for New York. And all it took was a phone call for you and Sugar to fall back into that familiarity once again, all you hoped was that it would be the same for you and Carmen.

Once Mae had finished up with work, the both of you, as promised shared a bottle of a wine and a blunt where she had squealed at your news of the dinner, and, despite your protests on the phone brought a rosy hued summer dress that she had begged you to keep.

It was left on a hanger on the door hook, and you stare at the gorgeous wave of the hem, and dip of the neckline that you had got you looking at Mae in doubt. She had screamed when you had tried it now, boasting about her amazing fashion sense and how utterly ruined Carmen would be.

You steered clear from feeding into her delusions, Carmen could be married for god's sake, whilst you were thinking if he would like the colour of your dress. He was not though, you had practically burned the entire timeline of his socials into your retina and there had not been a single indication of Carmen having a partner. But he had always been sort of secretive, and you couldn't hold onto the hope that Carmen hadn’t taken a liken to any one of the hundred girls that threw themselves at him.

I mean, it wasn't like he was waiting for you, right?

The heat of the shower spread through your body and you sighed in relief as the water loosened the soreness of your muscles that had begun to ache. You had a couple hours until the time Sugar and Richie had told you to come in, and you spent it leisurely, washing your hair carefully, and scrubbing your skin clean with the multitude of products you had accumulated the second you had more money to spend on just food, rent and utilities.

You forget to put a bath mat near the shower, and the cool stone is stained with your wet footsteps. You make quick work of drying yourself off before reaching for the same old bottle of shea butter you hadn't stopped using since high school. It was on its last leg, the worn label tearing apart, and soon enough you would have to cut it open to get to the last droplets. Old habits die hard and you had been a broke college student for a long fucking time.

After you've finished with your makeup and curling your hair so that it lay in soft blown out curls, you carefully and not so gracefully step into the dress. You don't own a lot of nice pieces like this, and you were forever grateful to Mae for coming in the way she did even despite your protests.

Because as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you realise you look pretty fucking hot. You put on the last of your jewellery, spritz yourself with some perfume, before sliding your feet into flats that wouldn't destroy your feet. You reach for your phone, the time flashing 6:30 and later than you had anticipated.

Stress fills you at the thought of coming late, especially since you really only knew three people there, but you force yourself to calm down with a breath, realising the beef was only a 5 minute drive from your place anyway.

The drive to the Beef was one that was filled with anxiety and glee, you couldn't help keeping the smile off your face as you passed through the familiar roads leading up to the family restaurant. Despite the familiarity of the streets, your mind always finds its way back to the most familiar place of all, Carmen. You wonder what he might look like all grown into himself, you've followed his many strides in the culinary world, even if you didn't understand a bit of the kitchen itself, but you were unbelievably proud of every award he had and numerous received. But that had been all online, to see Carmen in person was a whole different thing entirely.

It was an experience, to see the way he’d body moved, from the light touches of his fingers helping you play guitar to the way he glided through the kitchen concentrating on cooking you up new recipes he’d made.

He’d take criticism from only you, even if Mickey's loud booming voice intercepted your comments from across the kitchen island. You had to sniffle back tears at the memory of it, Mickey and Carmen were so incredibly close, you feel like a fraud having not been there for him when he died, how could you even call yourself his friend?

The truth was, you and Carmen had a horrible way of dealing with grief, you were battling with your own loss at the time, getting news of Micheal’s death only months after your own Father had died from a drunk driver. You had come back to Chicago for the funeral before running back to New York and stuffing yourself with your work. The pain had been too great then and the regret of leaving your brother and mother to clean up the mess had eaten you alive for years.

You and Carmen had a habit of stuffing your emotions into tight spaces. Your father, Mickey, the both of your absence in each other's lives, it was a grief you wore well.

In the knots in your shoulder, in the bags underneath your eyes, in the aching hearth of your heart, in the emptiness of your suppressed stomach. As well as you could anyway.

But the world keeps turning, and the view of the renovated Beef catches your eye as you shakily turn into the car park adjacent. You can’t run now, there isn’t a back door you can slip through and a plane you can catch to escape the reality of your past.

This was it, had this been what you had waited for?

You can feel your heart in your throat as you walk through the car park, the soft lantern lights hanging across the top of the restaurant in ribbons. The place had changed from the last time you'd seen it, the rotting wood replaced with pristine painted planks and the cloudy windows now crystal clear. It even had a name change, replaced instead with the unmistakable nickname of Carmen,

Bear

Sugar had texted you to meet at the front, and as you bite your lip in anticipation, you see a blonde haired woman shout back a swear before walking towards the front of the Beef, her eyes catching you through the front windows, shooting up in surprise and glee, before rushing through the doors.

“Holy fucking shit! You were always hot Bug but goddamn, you outdid yourself! How are you my love?” Sugar replies, reaching to gather you in her arms.

You press your face into the familiar scent of her, and you sigh in relief as your fears begin to dissolve, you weren't utterly alone here.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Carm is going to fucking implode when he see’s you” Sugar whispers with a grin, in which u shake yout head with a chuckle.

“Uh I don’t know about that, we haven’t really talked in, well, since High school” You reply honestly, you may have lied to Richie, but you couldn't escape Sugar’s bull-shit- detector gaze.

“You both were always so scared to make the first move, Mikey had to hold me back a couple times from just locking you both in a room and forcing you both to confess” Sugar replies with a grin

“Confess? What do you mean” You reply, and Sugar shakes her head with a chuckle,

“Don’t bullshit me Bug, it’s as clear as day. You both were inseparable then, and you will be inseparable now, everyone has their own timeline.”

You nod with a sigh, rubbing your eyes as you thought back to the call you had received asking you to join the design group in charge of revamping Madison Avenue. So much had changed since then, and it was about time that you faced what you couldn't 8 years ago.

“You changed him, ya know?” Sugar says, all of a sudden into the comfortable silence between you.

“Hm?” You reply

“I don’t know. Carm, he’s just, he’s distant, always has been. And then somehow, you became friends and there was this just change in him. He started to smile and laugh more, started opening up to us, because of you. Whether or not you realise it, you marked him in a way that was permanent you know? And when you left- well, it all went to shit, he was fucking destroyed and the only person that could help him was Mikey, and you, you get the rest of it” Sugar sighs, shaking her head as you stare at her.

“Sometimes, I’d bring you up, or-or we’d be talking about a new building, architecture or whatever, anything that related to you, and you'd just see him shutdown. He needs you hun, he doesn’t realise it but its like he’s fucking decaying without you.”

Anyone else and you would have shaken your head, but it was Sugar, and all the years you've known her she hadn't once sugar coated anything.

“It was always going to be Carm, Sugar. A million times over and it would always be him” You reply, a tight smile on your face as you try and blink back tears, and she nods with a frown.

“No crying, god I told myself I wouldn't cry” Sugar says, shaking her body as you laugh, sliding a hand in hers before walking into the Bear.

You aren't given enough time to investigate the changes to the restaurant, eyes glancing at pictures frames and stainless kitchen benches before stepping into a decorated back dining space, fixed with a long table covered with steaming plates of food and entrees.

The sound of your footsteps has the entire room coming to a halt, and you scan the many people seated at the long table, their eyes watching you with a look of surprise before recognition floods across them.

You can't recognise a single face, all unfamiliar to you but you get the strange feeling they know who you are, as they await for you to speak.

“Uh, Hello, um, you all probably have no idea who I am and this is kind of weird so-” You ramble nervously, trying and failing to introduce yourself to the many people watching your every move.

“Oh carino, you are gorgeous! You must be Carmen’s friend?” A short hispanic woman grins, making her way over to pull you into a hug, and the move causes the entire table of people to come over and introduce themselves.

You can’t stop keeping the smile off your face, as you learn about each of the amazing people around you who have kept your sweet boy company. They were incredible, and you don’t doubt they shared a bond you only ever built working together, piecing together where Carmen had spent his time, and recognising the glimpses of faces you had seen on the walls you had walked by.

You converse easily with Sydney, a young aspiring chef who had kept Carmen on his toes, but your mind isn’t exactly present. Your eyes are glancing every second at the door, waiting for the man you've been dreaming of since you were 18 to walk through those doors.

You hear a tumble coming from the back door leading to the alleyway behind the Bear, before the familiar voice of Richie yells out incoherent curse words. You aren't able to prepare yourself for the footsteps coming up the steps and into the entrance of the dining room before Carmen cerulean blues catch you immediately.

His eyes take their time with you, indulging in the peek of skin from the slit in the dress, before they trail up to your hips, snaking around your waist and blinking back at the dip of your cleavage. Carmen is undone, entranced by the way you hug and fill out the dress so perfectly, it does something to him he feels guilty about. Like the moments he would thrust up into the column of his fists after that one party where you leaned against him, or when he remembered the taste of your body wash.

Carmen is scared to move his eyes up to your face, fearing that he will be irrevocably gone if he does, but he does it anyway, because he's wasted enough time without you, and he can’t bear the seconds past him by without seeing the face he's dreamt of since forever

Carmen has to reach for the table near him, gripping the wood in his fists as he steadies himself when he sees you for the first time. He has to bite back his immediate response to let out a swear, his eyes trailing along every curve and line of your features he has begun to forget. The rush of memories, and feelings of you unleash within him like an unyielding current, breaking down every wall and shield he’s put up to stop it. It was fruitless, Carmen knew one day it would all come crashing down, because it was always going to be you, a thousand times over.

You let out a shaky breath as you catch his eyes fluttering over every single feature, you should feel self conscious but you don’t, you bare your entire self to him. You furrow your brow as you take in the honey caramel wisps of his hair pushed behind his ears. Your eyes catch the numerous inked sketches running along his arms and hands, you yearn to run your fingers along them, feel his veins jut out, they trail up his arm, like a stream and you have to swallow back the desire that had begun to unfurl at the vision in front of you.

He was utterly beautiful, his clean shirt contorted and stretched from the sheer size of him, the muscle and girth of his biceps and shoulders were so different to the lanky teenager you fell in love with. You feel a sadness at the thought of not seeing him since then, it had truly been too long.

He still wore his chef apron, though it lay untied and around his neck like he had quickly run into the kitchen to fix something.

You don’t know how you’re able to form the words, but you can hear yourself calling his name like a plead

“Hey Bear” You whisper, the tears at your waterline one whisper away from falling

And it’s the simple sound of your voice that has Carmen crashing and falling, swallowing back tightly.

“Hey”

You can make out Sugar calling everyone out to the front of the house, mumbling about flying pigs or whatever conjured up lie to leave you both alone. But it’s practically white noise around you, as your eyes remain forever on Carmen, like they always wore.

There's a silence that stretches between you two, and you feel the distance between you both from your fingertips.

“Thought I told you I’d punch your stomach if you cried” You say with a smile, tears falling down your cheeks and Carmen crumbles at your words, it's like his been hit by a freight truck, when you reminder of that day, but he still lets out chuckle, looking up at you with a grin.

“So I hear you're redesigning our very own Madison Avenue?” Carmen says, and it's like he’s been practising and rehearing the sentence over and over in his mind, it sounds more like a script than something he truly wants to say.

And you see through his bullshit, turning your head to the side as you look at him like he's translucent, and Carmen gives up before he is even able to start, what’s the point of faking it now when you could both see through each other.

“God, you're beautiful” Carmen says after a beat, the blues of his iris crashing and falling into a deeper depth as he looks at you. You blush, you never blush, you only ever blush for Bear.

“Carmen..” You whisper, the tears continuing to fall and roll down your neck

“Why didn't I tell you? God why didn't I?” Carmen says in a tight voice, like he's holding himself back, like he's holding himself from breaking, and you want to reach out and hold him instead.

You feel your heart drop, as you look up at him in anticipation, no no no??. You didn’t run half way across the state, you didn't spend years searching for Carmen in relationships and first dates, no- how? All this time. All this fucking time you could have spent with him, whether long distance, in New York, whatever, you would’ve made it work, hell you would have travelled endlessly for him.

“Why didn't you?” You breathe out. letting every tear and cry loose. And Carmen lets out a breath, your eyes communicating what your mouth could not for 10 years, letting your body shake with grief at the truth of it all.

Carmen feels his entire world breaking, he can feel the ground beneath him shake, he is consumed with you, you you you, and always and forever you.

“All this time..” Carm replies, shaking his head, laughing a little to himself as he stares at you in grief and love

“Yeah” You chuckle, before tears spill down your cheeks, and Carmen kind of breaks too, all the worries and missed time and love you would have shared out in the open between you. You both had been so foolish, so wrapped up in the fear of rejection/ruining your friendship you had ruined it all instead.

“I love you, I have loved you the moment I walked you home. I have loved you desperately, I loved you from afar, I have loved even when you didn’t know it”

“God Carmy, my sweet golden boy, I always knew it” You sniffle, and Carmen scrunches his eyebrows, grinding his teeth against his jaw as he shakes his head, undoing his apron so that he doesn’t get your gorgeous dress dirty, pulling you close to him. You reach for his hand, its size massive in yours, as you bring it to your chest

“You feel that? My heart beats for you Carmen, only you, forever you” You whisper, as you hold onto his hand tight

“I was just- I was so scared, so scared that I would ruin everything, our friendship, it was the one thing going for me and I couldn’t ask you, I couldn’t ask you to love me?” Carmen says, shaking his head like even saying the words felt stupid

“Carmen you are worth loving, I loved you then and I love you now. Sugar was telling me about how I changed you and you know what I was thinking the entire time? How everytime I think back to those years before my heart just aches. It aches because I have always been searching for you, Carm, my body yearns and reaches for you every day, you were the one thing that made me feel like I could make it out of here. That if I tried hard enough, if I had you believing in me too, I could really do it.

“And you know what Carmen? I did do it, I’m back in Chicago designing something that I believe in and I still feel so out of place. I feel scattered, like half of my body and mind is missing, and I’ve always known, even when I didn’t, that you kept that part of me. You held it safe, and I want it back, I want you back Carmen. I want my boy back.”

“It was always going to be you Carm, that’s the truth, I love I love I love love love you” You breathe out, your heart hammering against your chest as you let all the chips fall where they may, you each Carmens face, trying to decipher the look on his face.

You want to know what he's thinking, have you scared him? Does he not love you anymore? And it's like Carmen can tell the thoughts are consuming you because you can't think of them anymore, in fact you can't think at all except the feel of Carmen lips pushed up against your own.

They’re pillowy and soft, and it takes you a second before you kiss him back with such reverence that you swallow back each other’s groans. You don’t come up for air, you won't, you can't let him slip through your fingers again, Carmen can’t let himself lose you now, with the taste of you on his tongue, so sweet like he imagined you to be.

Carmen fears he might combust, that he might dissolve into a puddle right in front of you because you taste so good, he slides a hand up your neck pressing you closer to his chest as you grip his shirt in tight fists.

Carmen can feel himself smiling into your lips, and it causes you to let out a chuckle, allowing Carmen to press his canines into your lip, just a little, a nibble that has you moaning out loudly in a way that shocks you both.

You press your body impossibly closer to Carmen’s, until you can feel him nudge against the curve of your stomach, grinding down against him until he grip’s your waist tight, pushing you deeper until you both have to let go with a breath.

“You don’t know how long I have waited to do that” Carmen says, his eyes still shut, like he was savouring the taste of you that was on his tongue, on his lips, his skin, everywhere. Carmen wanted you everywhere.

“And how long I have waited to do this” You trail your nails across his chest, his eyes watching the mischievous grin on your face grow as you trail your fingers down his chest, resting on his belt before the sound of a yelp and a clap breaks out, causing you to retract your hand and causing Carmen to let out a whine.

The rest of the crew and Sugar come tumbling into the room, hootting with cheers and laughter like they had been pressing an ear to the door the entire time, which they probably had. Sugar makes her way over, hugging you both, and pressing a kiss to your cheek before punching Carmen lightly.

“You didn’t think I knew? God what kind of sister do you take me for??”

It’s all a blur of laughter and smiles and light shooting colours, Carmen keeps his eyes on you the entire time, and you don’t leave his side, holding onto him like he might fly away. And in all the commotion, in all the light and laughter and love Carmen sees Mikey. Sees him in flashes, the nape of his neck, the corner of his mouth pulling back in a smile and he swears, Carmen swears he sees him nod towards him.

You let it rip, bear, you did it, you did it.

And Carmen did, and he looks down at you in his arms surrounded by people he loved and his heart for the first time feels full. Carmen had written himself off to a life of fulfilment through his work, and whilst that was purposeful and important to him, he always felt like a piece of his life was missing, a piece of his heart, it was taken by you just as he had taken yours.

And now he can’t mask himself from his feelings, he can't watch you from afar anymore, he wants you beneath him, wants to bottle your laugh and drink in to cure him. He's broken and he doesn’t deserve you but god with the way you look up at him? It makes him question everything, makes him think he's enough, that there might be a chance he's more than the vile words he calls himself.

He want to get better for you, for the both of you, and its overwhelming, all these feelings he feels all of a sudden, it's like a switch has turned on and he can’t stop it, it washes over him, those memories from before, and you grip his arm with a squeeze, looking up as him before walking him out, guiding him with a hand until he follows you out into the alleyway.

“Sorry, it just was a whole lot at once, I haven’t even properly asked about you and now the entire kitchen knows you and” Carmen rushes out, rocking back and forth on his heels nervously

“You forget how well I know you bear?” Is all you say, and you can see the way he relaxes into himself, looking up at you with a nod. And it’s true, you know him completely and utterly, and it’s almost a relief, it almost makes Carmen cry because for the first time he doesn't feel like he needs to explain himself. Carmen feels like he has someone who knows him deep down, knows all his flaws, and problems and issues, and still wants him.

The thought is so foreign and strange but he stomach bubbles with the elated glee of the start of something, something you both know, deep down, was meant to happen whether it was now or in 30 years. You would always, always find each other, how could you not? When it felt like half of you had disappeared without them?

Carmen can’t help but a press another kiss to your lips, snaking his arm so that it rested on your hip, squeezing a little before you break from him

“The food in there looks lovely, but considering what has just occurred, do you want to go somewhere more..” You start

“Intimate? Fucking yes. I don’t need Richie watching me and Sugar breathing down my neck. There is so much..” Carmen replies, eyes having a bit of a faraway look as he thinks back to all the times he had wished he could confide in you but couldn't.

“Let’s make up for lost time, shall we?” You grin, holding out a hand that Carmen eagerly grasps, before practically running into whichever car is closest.

You and Carmen end up in a dimly lit jazz bar that sells signature shirley temples and tampalas that make your heart sing. You spend the entire night talking about everything, you both spill the entire contents of your guts to each other and you couldn't be happier, wiping each other's tears when the love got too much and your chest filled with gratitude at finding each other again.

You tell him you're only here for 6 months, and you leave the bar calling Mae to extend your lease. It doesn't take long for you both to slide into the familairy of your friendship again, spending every waking moment with each other, fulfilling every desire, checking off every firsts, exploring Chicago again with the one man who's been waiting for you for eternity.

It would have been cute if you werent fucking like rabbits as well, you were addicted to each other, chasing orgasm after orgasm like it was a high. You should have been thrown in jail with the amount of times you had nearly been caught, and Carmen’s office was practically a health code violation.

But the truth was, Carmen finally had something to come home to in the late evenings and you had something to say goodbye to in the early mornings.

The early morning sun drags along the horizon, it cuts through the shapes and cuts of the intricate frost that had begun to develop over the window, showering the room in its dull yellow through the linen curtains of your shared bedroom.

It had snowed during the night, and the city council had closed the roads, advising as many people to stay indoors if possible, causing you and Carmen to finally have an excuse to stay indoors and pressed against each other the entire day.

The only sounds you can hear in the early cold July morning are the shutters of shop doors opening and the simmering wave of traffic that would soon begin to spill into the city streets below.

That and the strangled sound of Carmens moans as you slide your hand across the slick length of him, heavy in your palm.

He watches you carefully, eyelids heavy as you blow on the tip of him, causing him to wince in desire. Your motions are slobby and wet, and Carmen is still half asleep from your sleeping position not moments before.

“Please…”

You bite back a giggle, looking up at him from your knelt position between his legs. You’ve pulled him to the edge of the bed, and he grips the white sheets in his fists as he tries to restrain himself from coming undone by the way you smile up at him.

“You want me to suck you off him? You wanna feel good baby, you gotta tell me you wanna feel good cause I can't hold back any longer

“Fuck..please make me feel good, you know how to do it, please h-honey” Carmen replies before knocking his head back with a groan when you take the tip of him in your mouth.

You and Carmen weren't exactly experienced at first, you both had never truly held a relationship long enough to progress to that stage, but it had only taken a month before you knew how to have him stuttering thrusting up into you with need and it had taken him 3 weeks to know how to make you cum 9 times a day. What could you say? You had waited long enough.

You don’t waste time as you circle your tongue around the red tip, licking the precum clean from the slit, groaning around him at the sound of his throat letting out strangled moans. You want to take him in entirely, but he was so thick and long you couldn't possibly without getting used to him again.

Carmen loved giving, he could spend hours with your thighs around his shoulders, but there was something special with getting your broody chef to come undone, to be reduced to a puddle at every lick and kiss from you.

You push him deeper, circling your tongue so that it drags flat against his length as you pump the rest of him that you couldn’t yet reach.

“Holy-sh-fuck babygirl, easy, easy” Carmen groans out, and as you flicker your eyes up at him, the vision causes you to sneak a hand down between your thighs.

Carmen looks down at you with furrowed brows, struggling to sit, grinding and jutting up into your mouth as his blonde hair lays across his forehead sweaty. His cheeks are a rosy crimson, and his tongue pokes out from the corner of his mouth biting down when you catch his blown out almost-black eyes.

You ignore his protests, pushing him further down until you feel him in your throat, constricting the space until it has him groaning out in pleasure. Carmen can’t help thrusting up into your throat, quickly apologising before you shake your head, reaching for his hand to grip your hair, begging him to use you however he wan’t. It’s too much for Carm, he feels like your puffed out cheeks, the tears eager to drip down your cheeks, the rut of your hips trying to find any friction causes the very tight bind to nearly snap in him.

“Fuck, don’t- not gonna last long” Carmen heaves out, gripping your hair until the veins in his arms and neck begin to juttt out.

You continue bopping your head down onto him, gathering the spit and cum and hollowing out your cheeks before taking him out and then in again. Carmen can’t take his eyes off of you, his chest heaving up and down as he watches you entranced.

“You don’t want to cum huh? Am I not making you feel good? Fuck my throat Carm, show me how you want it and i’ll show you how I do” You groan out, looking up at him from under your lashes and it causes Carmen to groan out, before gripping your jaw in his hand, and dragging your tongue back down his length.

Carmen is careful with how he fucks into you, but it’s reverent and heady and full of need, and he finds himself gripping your hair, watching you bop down on his cock until it bumps against your throat, and he feels that tight warmth that surround his sensitive tip.

He’s a mess, a jumble of incoherent swears and half moans of your name as the slick heaviness against your tongue shealths up and down, the mess of cum and saliva dripping from between your lips.

“S-so fucking, so good, all mine babygirl, you’re all fucking mine” Carmen replies with a growl, as hes thrusts into you grow sloppy, and you press your nails into his thigh, breathing through your nose as Carmen loses himself in the warmth and feel of you, chasing his release without a break.

The tight band deep in him snaps when you constrict around him, and catch his heavy gaze, he screams out your name, jutting up into your throat, slick shooting down as he holds you head against him, and you milk him dry eagerly, taking every last drop he gives you.

You swirl your tongue around him, gently taking him out of your mouth as he winces at the over stimulation, you look up at him, opening your mouth and poking your tongue out, and you don’t miss the low fuck he whispers at the image of you swallowing every last bit of his mess.

You aren’t able to get up yourself before Carmen is dragging you up to him, wiping and kissing away every tear before swallowing you with a heated kiss. Carmen can taste himself on your tongue, manoeuvring your bodies so that he lay against the headboard, with you grinding up against his lap.

“Need to feel you fill me up Carm, I need it so bad” You groan out between your heated kiss, and Carmen grips you against him, his cock hardening again at your words, he always wanted to please you, it was his dying quest, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you like it was nothing.

You line yourself up with him, before sinking onto his length, the both of you breaking apart from your heated kiss to suck in a breath, Carmen leans into the croon of your neck, biting the skin there lightly as the feel of you tight around him gets too much.

You have to grip him, pressing half moons into the contorting muscle of his shoulders and back as you get used to him, before sinking further down with a groan. You felt impossibly tight, walls velvet and soft like caramel as they glided up against him with its slickness.

“You sure you can take it all? Hm darling?” Carmen whispers as he leans over in your ear, so that you slide further down his length, and it glides across a sensitive spot in this new position that causes you to rock your head back with a groan.

“Oh no baby, no no no, eyes on me hm?” Carmen reprimands you, sliding a hand so that he can see the dazed look in your eyes.

“We have the entire day, locked in this house from the snow, and I’m going to fuck you stupid doll” Carmen replies with a grin, before easing out of you and thrusting back into you hard, causing stars to appear in your vision, the white hot pleasure of the beginnings of your orgasm gripping you.

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kowaiitenshii · 2 years ago

Text

[Sunkiller Lullaby Part Two]

Pairing: Darth Vader X Reader

Plot Summary: Accepting your role as Lord Vader’s personal attendant, you take the first steps in learning your new duties, and proving your loyalty to your new master.

Warnings: Canon-level violence. Mentions of death/murder. Descriptions of fear. Corruption. Canon-divergent. Unburnt!Vader. Reader is a former slave. Improper use of the force. Vader is his own warning. Descriptions of mistreatment. AFAB reader, feminine pronouns and descriptions used. 18+ content to come in later chapters.

Words: 4.2k

A/N: First off, thank you so much everyone for all the love on part one! I truly did not think so many people would enjoy it! I appreciate everyone who reblogged and liked, and I cannot wait to continue sharing this story with you. If people continue to enjoy my writing, I will most likely open up for requests/prompts!

Part One HERE

Part II:

To your dismay, you awaken to bright beams of starlight peeking through the sheer inner curtains of your suite.

You blink in confusion as you mull over the contents of the past night’s dream, and lament the fact that it was only that; a dream.

Sighing deeply in disappointment, you slowly rise from bed and dress yourself for the day, deciding on a deep ruby red set of robes. They’re thick and soft as you slide them on, and you decide that red really compliments you.

You are again presented with a decadent breakfast, this time dining on exotic ripened fruits, cured strips of thinly sliced meat, and toasted breads.

When you finish, the friendly droid again kindly leads you to Lord Vader’s private chambers.

As the doors slide open, you nearly jump out of your skin when you find your master awaiting you, staring at the door expectantly as he anticipates your arrival.

Forcing yourself to hold your head high, you saunter into the room as nonchalantly as you can muster. Your hands shake as you approach, and you clench them tightly in an attempt to push down your building nerves.

“Morning, young one.” he greets you coolly, his deep voice resonating through the silence.

“Good morning, My Lord.” you reply calmly, bowing to the Sith Lord.

He gives you an approving nod as you rise, before turning to the large window behind himself, commanding you to join him.

“Come.” he booms simply, and you oblige him. Standing next to him only highlights the size difference between the two of you, seeing as you only reach his shoulder at the highest.

All the lights of the room both overhead and from electric controls shine off of Vader’s helmet and armor, creating almost an aura of light which glints off of him. Your eyes are drawn to the heavy slant of his shoulders with his cape draped over, and the curve of his very evident biceps beneath his thick suit. Your face reddens slightly before you turn to face the window, feeling a measure of shame for looking at a Sith Lord in such a way.

The two of you gaze out at the expanse of stars before you, and you can’t help but marvel at the sight. Being from a small planet and having been enslaved since you were just a young girl, you had never any chance to explore or travel, no matter how badly you may have wanted to.

One of the things that amazes you the most as you stare out into space is the realisation that the stars are colourful.

There are stars of every colour you can imagine, and most of them are planets. Each star glittering across the sky in endless hues, they remind you of the fields of wildflowers that were common on your home-planet.

For a fleeting moment, you imagine lying amongst the stars and wrapping yourself in a blanket made of space itself, before Vader speaks again.

“I have arranged a test for you today.” he asserts, his tone unreadable.

Cocking your head, you glance up at your master, questioning exactly what sort of test he had in mind.

“We need to have the understanding that we can trust in one another if I am to take you on in personal servitude.” He explains, sensing your curiosity.

You can feel yourself go cold as the words sink in. It could be any kind of test, and ice cold pangs of fear grip your heart as you pray you do not fail.

Failure is simply not an option.

The trembling in your fingers only worsens, and to your horror, Vader notices.

He takes one of your quivering hands tightly within his own before placing the other heavy, leather-clad hand over top of yours. His touch is like holding a livewire, like nothing you had ever felt before, and it makes you jolt in your skin.

His gaze albeit masked is fixed upon you as he speaks, the air catching in your throat.

“I can sense your fear, your hurt. Your rage.” he says, a reassuring tone hidden in his distorted voice. “Use them. Do not fear me.” he commands, before dropping your hand like he had never touched it in the first place.

Not fearing him was a hefty task indeed.

You say nothing in response, swallowing thickly and flexing your fingers to rid them of the lingering sensation of his touch.

Just then, the ship begins to descend on a barren planet. The land is desolate, clouds of smoky-coloured dust covering the rough, rocky terrain.

You take deep breaths to steady yourself as the ship lands, still reeling from the touch along with your nerves and their gnashing teeth gnawing at the back of your mind.

As you disembark, you can feel how tightly wound your body is with anticipation. Despite this, you diligently follow your master as he treks along the barren, grey landscape, leading you to a wide clearing in the rocky wasteland.

All around you are boulders and crystals of enormous size, and you figure this must be an Empire-controlled resource planet.

Looking up to the violet sky, you pray to the maker that you make it out of this in one piece.

Vader stops at once, turning to regard you once more as you come to stand before him.

“Before we begin,” he starts “What is your name?” he asks, striking you with the realisation that you had not yet told him, and that he almost certainly already knew it. Truthfully, you had nearly forgotten that you had a name, as more derogatory terms were commonly used to refer to slaves. It is a strange thought that Lord Vader would even care to know it.

“(Y/N).” you answer dutifully.

“(Y/N).” he confirms before speaking again. “As I previously stated, we must be without a shadow of a doubt that we trust in one another. I have brought you here to assess that fact.” he explains, his droning voice reverberating off of the jagged walls of the terrain surrounding you.

Doing your best to maintain your shaken composure, you watch as the Sith Lord strides a few paces away before speaking again once more.

“I will test you, as you will test me.” He iterates, now turning towards you and watching you for a moment.

Rooted to the spot, you clench your shaking hands and swallow the lump in your throat, fixing your gaze upon Lord Vader.

You will test him? What could he possibly mean by that?

You watch in thinly veiled terror as he raises his right hand and the ashen earth around you begins to tremble. A large mass of sparkling crystal sizable enough to crush a freighter breaks away from the earth, beginning to levitate.

Stomach in knots and your mind racing, you watch in horror as it rises impossibly high and comes to a stop directly over your head.

In your youth you had heard tales of the Jedi and the Sith, but you had always taken them with a grain of salt. It is then that you come to understand that the stories were true, and the force is more powerful than you could ever have imagined.

Vader’s voice cuts through your frenzied train of thought, snapping you back into the moment.

“Focus on me.” he instructs you, holding the spiked mass of crystals steady above you, pulling it higher.

Although every atom in your body screams at you to run, you know there is no point. Wiping away the fine sweat forming on your brow, you obey your master, fixing your widened eyes upon him.

“Feel your fear.” he commands in a guiding tone. “Feel it, and understand that I will never harm you.”

Dread cuts into your chest like knives, and still you obey. You feel the goosebumps on every inch of your skin, your muscles poised to flee, and the fine tremble running through you in waves.

You look upon Lord Vader who holds your life in his hands so effortlessly. Focusing on the expressionless countenance of his helmet, you envision looking into his eyes and finding unwavering certainty there.

You stand as a statue as the massive crystal drops, time itself seeming to slow, and you don’t so much as blink when Vader catches it just before it hits.

“Very good.” Darth Vader affirms, before reeling back and launching the crystals far off into the distance; the sound of impact only coming as a murmured echo.

Sighing a huge breath of relief, your shoulders and head droop as the tension washes away in waves. When you lift your head, the Sith Lord is in front of you again, this time holding a cylindrical silver and black object in his outstretched right hand, motioning for you to take it.

“Do you know what this is?” he asks as you carefully take it from him, examining the activation switch on the side.

“Yes,” you affirm as you inspect the object with great curiosity. “It is a lightsaber.”

You had seen them in use only once when your planet was under siege, but you had also seen them traded by smugglers a handful of times.

However, you had never held one. The metal is cool to the touch, and it is deceptively heavy in your hands as you marvel at it, turning it over and over in your hands.

“Turn it on.” Vader demands, cutting your observation short. You swallow your nerves, holding the lightsaber in your right hand and placing your thumb over the switch. You jump as you press it, the glowing crimson plasma blade instantly shooting out with a sharp sound.

The glowing saber incandesces between the two of you, red light illuminating Vader’s ominous visage.

“Good. Now off.” he directs, and you obey immediately.

“Now, we test my faith in you.” he states intently, stepping closer and closer until he is merely an arm’s length away, looming expectantly over you.

Stomach tingling and your mind blank, you watch as he harshly grips the wrist of your right hand and presses the unarmed lightsaber against the blinking control panel on his chestplate, the shocking sensation of his touch feeling a million miles away.

Staring at where the hilt of the blade rests against his armor, you have the cold understanding that you could kill him right now.

You could kill him, and yet it would do nothing to change your fate.

It takes a moment to realise he’s staring at you before you look up to meet the blank gaze of his mask. Somehow you can feel it in him, the faith he has in you and the understanding that killing him would not save you.

You’re like that for a moment, staring at each other and listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing before he steps away, and you hand the lightsaber back to him.

“Well done.” he praises as he beckons you to follow. “Come. We are done here.”

You both board Lord Vader’s ship once again, your mind and emotions still reeling from the stress of the situation you just managed to live through as he calmly leads you to his chambers.

“Make yourself comfortable.” he orders as you enter the room, and you waste no time in shrugging off your outermost robe, leaving on your cowl and belted underdress. Plopping wearily onto one of the long couches in the room, you notice that it’s notably firmer than the plush furnishings of your suite, though you were in no place to complain.

Lord Vader stares at you for a moment, and you become bashful at the idea of him looking upon your uncovered skin, before he turns to his place at the large window to watch as the ship takes off.

You wonder if he does anything other than stare out the window in contemplation.

Straightening yourself up, you watch the grey planet fade away as the ship flies, bidding the site of your near-grave a goodbye before looking around the room in which you sit.

Now that you have the chance to really look, you take in your surroundings. To your right, the wall with the door is covered in blinking controls which you can only assume are either used to manipulate aspects of the room or call droids and Imperial personnel. On the far wall opposite where you sit, there is a large open doorway into an illuminated room housing an enormous tank filled with a mysterious blueish liquid, and you wonder what the purpose for it could possibly be.

You don’t see a bed in the room, so you assume that Vader sleeps elsewhere. That is, if he indeed sleeps.

In the left hand corner of the opposite wall, you can see a long white table littered with various parts, mechanisms and tools laid out upon it, and you find it mildly interesting that Darth Vader likes to tinker.

The Sith Lord’s voice cuts through your curious observations like a razor.

“What do you know of the force?” He asks, peering over his shoulder at you.

You’re stunned for a moment before you answer.

“I must admit, Lord Vader, I know very little, as it was forbidden to be taught on my homeworld.” you reply truthfully, caught off guard by the seemingly random question. It was true, the ways of the force were not formally taught as a form of trying to shield the people of your home-planet from the Empire; all you know are the legends and the myths that were told as stories.

Lord Vader nods in acceptance.

“This ship is equipped with an entire library full of knowledge of the force, both light and dark; Jedi and Sith. You are free to utilise it if you so wish.” He offers, but it sounds more like an order.

Feeling as though there’s something he’s not saying, you simply nod.

“Thank you master.” you accept graciously with a soft smile.

He only nods in reply, gaze lingering heavily upon you before he turns away from the window, pacing over to his work bench in the opposite corner from where you sit and taking a seat.

You do not know how long he toils over his machines, nor how long you accompany him in doing so.

The last thing you remember before waking up in your own bed is dozing off on Lord Vader’s couch.

Confused and unaware of how you got back to your suite, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and sit up. As you rise, a gentle knock sounds behind the door.

“Come in!” you call out, clearing your throat and wetting your lips.

The friendly droid enters, bowing to you and chirping its greetings.

“Good evening, Madam! I’m assured you’re ready for your meal?” it asks politely. Smiling softly at the kind droid, you nod.

“Yes, please.”

After all, the stress of the day's activities has left you quite hungry, your stomach growling at the thought of the decadent spreads you’ve been spoiled with.

The droid steps out for a moment, promptly returning with a spread no less extravagant than the others you’ve been lucky enough to enjoy. Tonight, your meal consists of a striking plum-coloured stew, accompanied by an herbed mash of root vegetables, and crusty baked breads still warm from the oven.

As you eat, a curious and humorous thought crosses your mind, and you set down your spoon to ask the droid a question.

“Was it you that carried me all the way back here?” you giggle playfully, finding amusement in the idea of the spindly droid hauling you through the corridors.

“No milady, Lord Vader saw to that himself.” the droid answers dutifully.

Knowing it is incapable of lying, the idea hits you like a train, and you’re struck by it for a moment.

Carrying you to your room seemed like a task that would be uncharacteristically tender, too gentle for Vader to carry out. You can feel the flush that spreads across your cheeks as you come to the understanding that there is still much you do not know about your master.

“Oh, um. Give him my thanks.” you reply quietly, leaving it at that.

“As you wish, Milady.” the droid affirms.

Spending the rest of your meal in contemplative silence, it does you well, nourishing and soothing your tired body.

Before the droid leaves you for the night, you request the books that Lord Vader had mentioned, thinking some studying may help you to understand your master, even if just a small bit more.

It happily delivers them to you, leaving you with a stack of thick and heavy books with weathered bindings.

Elsewhere, Darth Vader paces in his chamber, heavy footsteps echoing around him.

He is quite satisfied with the recent turn of events, knowing surely now that your spirit had not been broken by your life of torment, but that it was bendable.

It was true that you had great fear within you, but your lust for power and your anger was greater. Your suffering had made you fierce, it made you courageous.

The Emperor will be pleased.

Remembering the strength in your expression as you had connected with him while your very life hung in the balance, the absolute, steady faith you had in him; And then the dichotomy of holding your serenely peaceful sleeping body in his arms, your angelic calmness, he feels an unfamiliar flutter in his chest before shaking it off.

Spending the rest of the night flipping through an ancient tome, you are thoroughly intrigued by the stories contained within. They read like fairy tales; tales of heroic bravery, of villainous contempt, of epic battles and galactic love.

They’re enchanting, reminding you of those cherished times as a child when your parents would read to you before putting you to bed.

Well into the late hours of the night, you finally ready yourself for sleep, yawning and stretching as you shrug off your garments.

As you lay out an outfit for the next day, you catch a glimpse of a passing moon. It’s beautiful, a light yellow hue to the pallid monolith as it glows. Moons always reminded you of solitude, your only companion in those quiet hours of the night. As you watch it pass, you silently hope that you dream of your mysterious suitor again.

Your prayers are answered.

Becoming aware of your surroundings, your eyes scan the room around you. It’s a more intimate setting this time, a quaint stone cottage within a verdant forest. There are strange herbs and flowers hung to dry all about the room, leaving it with a floral, green aroma.

Sitting on the floor in front of a warm, crackling fire, your vision finally adjusts to your dimly lit setting, and you spot the one you had wished for standing just within the doorway.

He smiles warmly as your eyes land on him, exposing a row of perfect teeth. You can’t help but to smile back.

Striding out of the shadows, he joins you by the fire, nestling you against his side. His energy is the same and you can feel it just as strongly as before, entrancing and sultry as the fire before you.

You spend a long moment just looking at him, committing every aspect of his features to memory in case you never get the pleasure of seeing him again.

He’s still got that warm smile on his face as he gazes back at you, making your stomach flutter. His hair falls in perfect golden waves on his shoulders, framing his outstandingly handsome features. His eyes are half-lidded, his pupils blown wide as he looks upon you; his full, pink lips parted.

Feeling the heat in your body rising, spreading across your face and tinging the tips of your ears, you look away shyly.

The connection you feel with this man still baffles you, it doesn't make any sense, leaving you confused and questioning whether you can even trust your own emotions.

Though, you suppose dreams don’t have to make any sense.

Reaching over to you, he brushes a tress of hair away from your face to read your expression, pulling your attention back to him.

You blink sheepishly at him through long lashes as he hooks a finger under your chin, turning you to face him fully. Goosebumps form instantly at the contact, your hairs standing on end as a wistful sigh leaves your lips.

He brings your face so close to his own that you can feel his gentle breaths tickling your lips. The air, the energy between you is like a thunderstorm; intense, restless, and exhilarating.

You revel in the way he touches you like something that threatens to break.

The realisation then hits you that this is your first time seeing him unhidden by his cloak. You take your time in taking in all the new details you had missed, noticing a lengthy scar on the right side of his face, running nearly all the way from his hairline to just below his eye.

He slowly curls a strong arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap, never breaking eye contact while doing so. Following his movements obediently, you shift your legs to wrap around his waist as you perch on him; the tips of your noses tickling each other as you adjust yourself.

You want, you crave nothing more than this closeness and contact with him.

After being denied pleasant, consensual human contact for so long, the feeling is intoxicating. It makes your head swim, and your heartbeat race.

Still face to face, you delicately raise your right hand, ghosting the tips of your fingers down the length of his scar, taking great care in case it’s still painful for him. Your fingers buzz and tingle, like nerve endings coming back to life after having fallen asleep.

Lips parting and eyes falling shut at your touch, he presses his forehead against yours.

Your whole body lights up and hums at the sensation, like a static charge. His intense and all-consuming energy surrounds you, threatening to swallow you whole.

And you let it. You let him in.

Holding the doors to your mind open, you begin receiving visions.

Visions of a small boy with tawny hair and bright blue eyes. Visions of the familiar sandy, dual-sunned landscape of Tatooine. Visions of that small boy toiling away in the shop of a cruel junk dealer.

Your eyes fly back open with the newfound understanding that the child was him, that he truly had lived a life like yours.

In this moment, as your heart races and your eyes flit between his, he feels like the person closest to you in the entire world.

He looks back at you with soft eyes. The expression on his face is one that says:

This is me. Do you see it? This is me.

Overwhelmed by the connection, by the painful swelling of your heart in your chest, you let instinct lead rather than logic.

Leaning into him further, you brush your lips just barely over the full curve of his, inviting him to close the distance.

Instantly he relents, capturing your own lips with his, pure passion and intense longing radiating off of him in waves.

As he tangles a large hand in your soft hair, you can feel your heart thumping against your ribcage, your blood rushing through your veins. Draping your arms over his sturdy shoulders, the very air around the two of you feels electric, tingling and crackling with released tension. Lips locking over and over, hands everywhere, tongues tasting each other in the heat of your fiery desire, you send a message through your ministrations.

I see you. You say with every touch of the lips, every tease of his tongue, every rake of your nails across the soft skin of his abdomen. I see you.

When you finally break the session to suck in greedy gasps of much needed air, he bites onto your bottom lip, prolonging the contact for as long as possible. He clutches you tightly, possessively to his strong body, as if you could be ripped from his arms at any moment; his own chest heaving as he breathes.

He slides a large, rough hand up the small of your back, steadying you as you rest your head on his shoulder for a moment. Pressing a feather light kiss to the petal-soft skin of his throat, your eyes slide shut with great satisfaction.

Credz:

Lightsaber graphic creds: @saradika

Taglist:

@heyitsaloy

@poisonedsultana

@cryptidsrcool

@mayhemories

665 notes · View notes

jammyambition · 1 year ago

Text

Hello!!! Unfortunately for everyone who might see this, I have now attempted to write Baby’s First Smut™️. You heard it here first, I’m not just hoarding fics on this blog anymore (unless this crashes and burns then I will delete it and hide in shame forever ofc) I have been inspired by so many amazing fic writers on here, and I’ll tag a couple just so I can share the love, I hope that’s okay! @pascalisbaby , @tinycozycomfort, @cupofjoel, @joelscruff thank you for your amazing and inspiring work!! Lots of love!!❤️

If people like this I could always write a continuation!! I have lots of ideas in my brain 💡

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Old Man.

Jackson!Joel x Reader

MINORS DNI/NSFW

Warnings: No description of size/appearance/skin colour. Reader is in early to mid 20’s, has a vagina/vulva, has hair long enough to pull, Joel uses terms of endearment such as honey/sweetheart/darlin’/baby/little girl, contains fingering, finger sucking, hair pulling, face grabbing, light/moderate spanking, slightly Mean!Joel, Joel is 56 so I cannot stress this enough, there is a big age gap! 1 single use of the word Daddy, slight humiliation and finally the use of the word Sir about 2 or 3 times. I imagined game!Joel for this fic, but ofc imagine whatever iteration you like!! I am done.

word count: 3,835

You and Joel have been patrol partners for a while now, and you have taking quite a liking to him. A cocky mistake nearly costs you your life, and Joel takes drastic measures to ensure it doesn’t happen again.

The air is crisp and cool as you walk slowly up the snowy path to Joel’s front door. Your mind racing as you think back to the events of your most recent patrol with him; you, a bunch of clickers and your near devastating misplaced confidence in yourself.

You thought you could take on a group by yourself from the safety of your horse. You’d managed to get a few headshots, reaching back to get another arrow from your quiver and nicking yourself on your knife, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the feeling of your skin being sliced open. At the sound of your gasp, the clickers whipped their heads around, causing a whimper of fear to bubble out from your lips. You urge your horse forward as quickly as possible, desperate to escape the clawing hands and gnashing teeth of the monsters, but you’re not quick enough, they’re gaining on you with alarming speed. Your heart pounds in your chest like a frightened rabbit, your breath coming in quick, wet pants as you panic. The situation seems dire, and you do the only thing you can think of that might save you from certain death.

“JOEL!!”

The clickers seem to gain even more speed at the sound of your scream, and you begin to worry that they might drag you off your horse, those gnarled claws and gaping mouths inching ever closer by the second. At the last second, just as you feel the tips of a set of claws scratching at your calf through your thick trousers, one of the clickers is thrown back by a direct shot to it’s head, a halo of gore and fungal brain matter splattering onto the ground and landing in patches on your clothes and face. Another deafening bang and another clicker thumps to the ground at the feet of your panicked horse, and after another 3 lethally calculated shots, you’re finally, blissfully safe. You feel colour and heat returning to your sweaty face, heart racing with adrenaline and relief. You look up, and he’s there. Your saviour. Of course it’s Joel, who else would it be? No one else would be that efficient, that calm under pressure, and also, you note with trembling breath, no one else would look quite that angry.

You can see the rifle clenched in his trembling fist, his nostrils flaring as he catches his breath, coming down from the panic of the last few minutes. He sets the rifle down and motions for you to ride over to join him.

Fuck.

The ride over to Joel feels somewhat like the ride to your own grave, the anger and frustration is radiating off him in palpable waves, his thick fingers twisting around the reins of his horse in a way that both frightens you and makes your mouth feel a little dry. You can’t deny that Joel is a treat to be on patrol with, between his hunting and shooting skills, his good looks and gruff, deep voice, usually you would jump at the chance to spend any amount of time with him, but right now you’d rather be on the receiving end of literally anybody else’s anger.

You turn to Joel, taking in the heavy, thunderous set of his dark brows, his usually kind brown eyes now steely with the promise of you being in for a real dressing down.

“So, you wanna tell me exactly what you were thinking back there?” Joel says, low and vaguely threatening, but tinged with genuine concern.

You swallow dryly.

“I-…I thought I could handle it Joel, I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

Your mouth feels dry and sandpapery, a fierce blush burning in your cheeks as your embarrassment grows.

He breathes in slowly, measuredly before exploding.

“You’re goddamn right it’s your fault, you couldn’t handle shit back there! What would have happened if I wasn’t there, if I hadn’t heard you call for me? I told you, I told you to stick with me and to let me handle packs of infected, and you ignored me and went off alone to try and what? Prove yourself to me? Well, I hate to tell you honey, but the only thing you’ve proven today is that I cannot trust you to follow my orders! I can’t believe you’d be so childish, so goddamn stubborn!”

He takes in another breath, this one sharp and gasping after this outburst.

You blanch, reaching another level of embarrassment you previously thought didn’t exist. He was right, you did want to prove yourself to him, you wanted to impress him, but it didn’t work, you just nearly got yourself killed. Your pride wounded and anger growing, you spit back at him in turn.

“Y-you think I want to impress you, old man? I only took on that pack of clickers because I thought YOU wouldn’t be able to handle it!”

You lie through your teeth, hating yourself even more the moment the words tumble from your freezing lips.

He looks straight ahead, over at the gates of Jackson which loom ahead of you.

“That right, sweetheart?”

He sounds as if he’s speaking through gritted teeth, and you feel your insides chill a little at the cold sound of his voice. You fucked up, bad.

You hitch your horses back at the stables, and as you walk away, desperate to go home, away from Joel and wash your day of adrenaline and crippling embarrassment off you with a hot shower, you feel his firm grasp on your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks.

He leans in close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your cold skin and making you shiver.

“I think you and I need to have a little talk about what happened today. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll have the decency to to show your face tomorrow. I expect an apology.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words.

“Y-yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll see you tomorrow, Joel.” You stutter, your cheeks heating up even more.

He steps back from you, completely unaffected and calm.

“Good. I’ll catch you later, honey.”

He turns and walks away, over to where Tommy and Maria are beckoning him to come for a nightcap, greeting them with a familiar smile.

You rub your face with your gloved hands, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your palms to your eyes.

“Shit!” You mutter under your breath. “Shit.”

And that is exactly why you’re hauling your sorry ass up Joel’s path, apologies and excuses dancing around your head, trying to work out just how you can get yourself out of this mess. You imagine Joel telling you that you can’t be on patrol anymore, you’re too irresponsible, too impulsive. Your stomach clenches with nerves.

Finally, you reach his front door and knock lightly a few times, willing him not to be in the house. You can come back tomorrow. You begin to turn away, making your way back down the path as you hear the latch of his front door opening.

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps on the wooden porch and your heart sinks a little as you hear him speak.

“Don’t think you’ll get away that easy, darlin’. Get in here. Now.”

He steps aside to allow you to get past him, and you squeeze through into the living room, your shoulders brushing his lightly as you pass.

He steps back into the house and shuts the door firmly, your stomach jolting nervously at the finality of the sound. You’re trapped.

Joel moves through the living room, taking a seat on one of the large, comfortable chairs. He gets himself settled, leaning back with his arms draped casually across the back of the chair and his legs spread apart slightly. You can’t help it when your gaze flits between the exposed muscle of his bicep as the arms of his t-shirt rides up slightly, and the bulge in his blue jeans when he leans back. He adjusts himself again, pushing his hips forward. His t-shirt rides up just a little, exposing a sliver of soft, tanned stomach. You feel like you’re about to pass out as you take in the sight in front of you.

“Stop staring at him, for fucks sake!” You think, as you feel your face heat up even more.

“Come here.” Joel says sternly, pointing at a spot in front of him, about a foot away from where he’s sitting.

You walk tentatively over to where he points, coming to a halt just in front of his boots.

“That’s good, darlin’. So you can take orders, huh?” he rumbles, and you swear you hear a slight hint of amusement in his voice.

“I can take orders, old man.” You reply, tartly.

He grunts quietly, unamused.

“Now tell me, what’s with this attitude huh? You’re so polite with everyone else, so nice and sweet. Why do I get this bratty little attitude of yours?” He says, sternly, locking you in his steely gaze.

You don’t answer as you struggle to think of a reply, your mouth opening and closing over and over.

“You ain’t got nothin’ to say, sweetheart? You think I deserve this attitude of yours after I saved your life? Saved you from that cocky little stunt you pulled?” He goes on, filling the silence for you.

You feel hot and guilty as he lectures you, but your stomach twists pleasurably at the sight of him in front of you, and the deep, stern tone of his voice is making you feel hot and even a little damp in your underwear.

“J-Joel, this is…this is humiliating. I don’t need to be lectured like this, I’m not a child.” You find your voice, desperate to prove that you’re not as pathetic and bratty as he’s making you out to be.

“No? Then why do you act like such a child, out on patrol with me? Always with your bratty little comments, disobeying my direct orders, going off on your own when you think you know better!” He sounds more annoyed now, his voice taking on a sharper edge, you can tell you’re getting to him and a small part of you want to push further.

“Jesus Joel, you’re speaking to me like I’m not a grown woman, I’m in my 20’s for fucks sake! I don’t have to answer to you! I can take care of myself, I have more experience than you’ve ever given me credit for, old man.” You spit back, angry at the implications of his words and desperate to hold your own in this battle that you’re acutely aware you’re losing.

A dark look flits across his face, and he looks almost feral when he raises his eyes back to you. You a nervous tingling across the back of your neck as you realise you may have pushed it just a little too far this time.

His hand shoots out and grabs your collar tightly, pulling you down to his level, his forehead pressing against yours as his eyes bore into yours from below.

“Do you have any idea how much older I am than you, little girl? How much more experience I have than you? What I could do to a little brat like you?” He seethes, his voice low and threatening.

You feel a spike of arousal in your stomach as he grits his words out at you, his breath flickering over your face as his dark eyes search yours.

You swallow, steeling yourself against his intense gaze.

“Oh, I’d love to see what you’d do a little brat like me, old man.” You retort, smirking.

Another half-crazed look passes across his face and then suddenly he pulls you sharply by your wrist, unbalancing you and having you land directly across his knees, your ass sticking up slightly.

You’re in shock, feeling vulnerable and exposed despite the two layers of clothing protecting your modesty.

“Joel?! What the fuck?” You protest, trying to stand up, but his arm is solid and vice like around your waist.

He chuckles, clinging to your waist even tighter to ensure you can’t escape.

“Showin’ you what I do to little brats like you, sweetheart.”

Suddenly his hand comes down on your ass, taking you by surprise and making you yelp. Another sudden burst of arousal spikes through your core and you squirm in his lap slightly.

“You’re gonna spank me!? Really, Joel!?” You say, embarrassed.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, honey. I can see you squirmin’ from here.” He chides, bringing his hand down again, making you let out a strangled half yelp, half moan.

“F-fuck! That hurts, Joel!” You whimper.

“It’s meant to hurt sweetheart, how else is it gonna fix your little attitude problem?” He says, laughing slightly at your predicament.

You feel wetness pooling in your underwear as he strikes your ass again, and you squirm slightly again in his lap, feeling an unexpected hardness digging into your stomach.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, honey. I can practically feel you making a mess of your underwear, little girl.” He says coolly.

You whimper again, feeling hot and flustered from his ministrations and words. You can feel your pussy dripping with need and you worry it’s about to start making a stain on his jeans.

Joel runs a soothing, warm hand through your hair, coaxing you to look up at him.

“Cmon, darlin’. If you tell me the truth, I’ll give you what you want.” He looks searchingly into your face, big brown eyes kind and gentle.

You swallow, your throat dry with shame and your tongue thick with arousal, willing yourself to come up with a response that isn’t just incomprehensible whines and whimpers betraying your desperation for him.

“I..I…I don’t want anything, Joel. I swear!”

Your voice shakes as you lie through your teeth.

You hear Joel make a half grunt, half chuckle above you, and he draws breath before he speaks.

“You little liar.”

He sounds almost amused as he brings his hand down on your ass again, harder than before, and you accidentally let a strangled moan fall from your lips.

Your hand flies to your lips, as if you’re trying to push the sound back down your throat and your face feels impossibly hot. You can feel yourself leaking into your underwear, almost certainly soaking the fabric through entirely and you’re worried that it might start to leak out and stain his rough denim jeans.

“Oh, honey…” he says, sickly sweet and tender, and then winds a broad hand in the hair at the soft nape of your neck and pulls your head back sharply, slotting his face next to yours and pressing his lips up against your ear.

“I think you want me to fuck that little hole of yours until you remember who’s in charge here, little girl.”

You feel a gush of wetness in your underwear at his words, and an unrestrained moan leaves you against your will.

You nod your head as he begins to gently kiss and nibble at your ear slightly, making you shiver.

He leans back slightly and speaks again, his voice husky and laced with something like desire.

“Need words from you, darlin’. I ain’t doin’ shit until I know you want it. Come on, tell me what you want, honey.”

You gaze up at him, your eyes wide and probably slightly dazed looking from all the blood rushing away from your brain. You lick your dry lips and open your mouth to speak.

“N-need you to touch me Joel, please.”

He looks deep into your eyes.

“That right, baby? Need me to touch you, make you behave? Make you good for me?”

As he says this, you feel his large, warm hand sliding slowly up your thigh, stopping at your inner thigh and tracing small, teasing circles on the sensitive skin.

You can feel yourself get even wetter, and you squirm a little in his lap as his fingers move a little higher, tracing the large wet patch on your underwear.

He smirks slightly, almost condescendingly before speaking.

“All this from a little punishment, darlin’? You really this wet for me?”

He moves his fingers up to the waistband of your underwear and hooks his fingers under the elastic.

“Can I take these off, baby? You want this?”

You’re practically grinding on his thigh with frustration and your voice is small and desperate as you answer.

“Please Joel, take ‘em off, need you so bad.”

He chuckles, deep and warm as he slides your underwear down your thighs, tutting sympathetically as he sees the marks his hand left behind on your ass.

“Poor lil’ thing. Maybe I went too hard on you. Still, you look so damn good like this, honey. Is this how I should get you to mind me from now on? Put you over my knee and spank this pretty lil ass till ya’ listen?”

You moan quietly at his words, not at all opposed to the idea, which of course, Joel notices.

“I see I got a lil masochist on my hands here, ain’t that right, darlin’? You like a lil pain?”

You whimper out a response.

“Yeah, I-I like it, Joel. Now p-please, you’ve teased me enough, need you to touch me.”

He seems to take pity on you as he slowly pulls your underwear down your legs, urging your hips up to give himself room. As you lay back down in his lap you feel his hardness digging into your stomach and you whine out.

“Please Joel, I want your cock so bad, I’ll be good I promise.”

You look up at him with pleading eyes, and he brings his large hand up to your face, smushing your cheeks together so your lips push out in a pout.

“As cute as you are, darlin’, you’re not getting my cock until you can prove you can listen to me, take orders from me like a good girl. Got it, honey?”

You start to pitch up a whine, complaining slightly.

“B-but, Joel, I-I-….”

His grip on your cheeks goes tighter, and he nods your head up and down slightly, his mouth curved into a condescending grin.

“There we go, good girl. Say “Yes, Sir.” That’s it…”

He chuckles, dropping his grip on your cheeks and stroking your hair again in a soothing motion, then moving his hands back to your dripping wet core.

“Listen to me, little girl. You’re gonna lay nice and still over my knee and you’re gonna take what I have to give you, got it? Gonna show you who’s in charge around here, honey; you’re gonna mind me when we’re done.”

As he says this, he slides a thick finger into your dripping hole, and you feel yourself clench around his digit.

“O-oh, fuck!”

You whine as he starts up an unforgiving pace, and you can hear the sticky, wet noises of your own arousal echoing through the room.

“You like that honey? Huh?”

He says, as he slips another finger in, the slight stretch making you cry out in pleasure again.

“Where’s that bratty attitude now, little girl? You gonna talk back to me now you’re getting fucked over my knee? Fucked good by this old man?”

You feel yourself somehow get even wetter at his words, whines tumbling from your lips.

“N-no, Joel, I promise! I’ll b-be good, I swear! Just please don’t stop!”

He makes a thinking noise, his fingers not slowing as he moves his other hand to your lower back, holding you down.

“I don’t know honey, I’m not convinced that you’ll be a good girl for me. Show me some proper respect, and maybe I’ll think about it. Go on.”

You let out a frustrated whine, not believing that he can possibly make this situation anymore humiliating, but you think you know what he wants.

Finally you give in.

“Please, Sir! Please, don’t stop!”

You think you can feel his cock twitch slightly as it digs into your stomach from below, and you feel a slight sense of satisfaction as he speaks.

“Yeah honey, that’s a good girl. Showing me some proper respect now, huh?”

He seems pleased, and as if rewarding you for your efforts he scoops you up and sits you in his lap properly, draping your legs either side of his broad thighs.

You feel your wetness drip out of you as your core is entirely exposed to the cool air of the room.

“I think my good girl deserves a little reward now, show her I’m not all bad, right baby?”

His fingers go straight for your clit and begin to rub it in tight, calculated circles as the fingers of his other hand plunge back into your tight hole.

You moan loudly he does this, feeling yourself close to cumming already after his relentless teasing. You feel as if you can’t control the loud, desperate whines and moans leaving your lips as he continues to work your body expertly.

You hear him tut again as your moans reach a particularly loud crescendo.

“Shh, honey…damn, you really are desperate to cum, huh? You better quieten down, you wouldn’t want your lil’ friends to know you’re getting fucked so good by a man old enough to be your daddy. Ain’t that right little girl?”

As he says this, he takes his fingers out from your pussy and shoves them in your open mouth, silencing your moans.

“Yeah, that’s better. Give you something to keep you quiet while you cum, darlin’.”

You feel yourself tightening around nothing, your legs clenching and shaking as you begin to cum, Joel’s fingers in your mouth keeping you quiet.

He continues to rub your clit slowly as you come down from your high, the feeling making you shiver and spasm in his arms.

You relax back into his chest, feeling slightly dizzy from your intense orgasm, your muscles feeling jelly-like and utterly relaxed.

Joel wraps his arms around your shaking form, reclining further into the chair and allowing you to nestle into his arms.

“You okay, honey? Need anything, some water or something?”

You look up at him, his brown eyes kind and gentle again.

You giggle slightly,

“Maybe my pants back, old man…”

He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“Oh, back to our old ways already are we, sweetheart?”

He says, playfully.

You laugh quietly again, resting your head on his chest.

“Yeah, something like that.”

You two stay like that for a while, until finally your legs begin to go numb due to the uncomfortable position. Joel sends you off with a kiss on the forehead and a pat on your (still slightly sore) ass, as well as a warning that you’d better listen to him next time you’re on patrol together.

You find yourself making a promise to yourself to show Joel just how much of a good girl you can be the next time you’re on patrol together.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fanfiction

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transbianmuffin · 2 months ago

Text

Memories pt. 5

cw basically a queer cuddle puddle with lots of drugs

If you enjoy shoegaze and heavy synths I highly suggest to have in background "Lower your eyelids to die with the sun" by M83 while reading this. It was my main soundtrack when I wrote this fic and I think that it would enhance the overall experience :3

********

"Sinea! Welcome, long time no see!"

"Xarsei, thanks for having us even with such short notice."

"And losing the opportunity to finally see Chloratea's first pet in many years? Seven hundred? Eight hundred? Roots, nobody, NOBODY would want to miss that."

"I- I'm n-"

"She's not my pet. Xarsei, she's my ward."

"Sure, sure she is. Now little one, you look amazing by the way, would you want to go with the others? Me and Sinea have some catching up to do."

"..."

"You can go, Deena. I'll be here, whenever you need me just look in my direction and I'll come immediately."

"Ok... thank you."

"Not your pet, eh?"

"I'm working on it. She wants to be, that's clear as the morning summer sunlight, but I want her to beg on her knees to be taken by me."

"Dirt Sinea, you truly want to break her."

"No, not at all. She's already mine. She only needs to realize it."

"She is cute, though."

"She is the cutest creature in the universe."

[Floret 1] "Oh my oh my oh here she iiiis~"

[Floret 2] "You look gorgeous sweetie~"

[Floret 3] "This dress in a-ma-zing. I want to make out with you."

"W- well I-"

god she's on me, her tongue tastes like sweet lavander I'm making out with this cute girl I just met and my head is already starting to feel dizzy

[Floret 1] "Awww~ you two are sooo cute."

"A- ah- sorry I was saying, hi I'm Deena! I'm Sinea's..."

[Floret 2] "First floret!"

"...ward."

[Floret 1] "Oh a ward! That's cute! But but but we need to introduce us! I'm Kyle Graemina, first floret!"

[Floret 2] "I'm Hipatia Sinens, fourth floret!"

[Floret 3] "And I'm Maddi Sinens, first floret and Hipatia's connivent. I want to make out with you again."

[Kyle] "Maddi, give Deena a break. Sorry, her mistress always fills her up with Class D and Class J before doing this gatherings."

[Maddi] "Hipatiaaaaa~"

[Hipatia] "Yes, sweetie?"

[Maddi] "Come here~"

"So, Kyle, are you happy?"

[Kyle] "What? Sure I'm happy. We're all happy! Our Affinis provide us with everything we need. We don't have a care in the world besides being cute."

"I guess so."

[Kyle] "Are YOU happy?"

"I wasn't happy for a long time."

[Kyle] "And now?"

"I am now."

[Kyle] "Here, smell this lily. My mommy gave it to me for you."

this smells so nice...oh that dizziness again, I can't stand on on my own feet Kyle is so cute I want to play with Hipatia hair I want to melt between Maddi's arms

[Kyle] "Come Deena, let's join the others."

this fluffy cushion is soo good on my skin Maddi embraces me while Hipatia starts kissing my neck.

Her kisses burn my skin with pleasure every time her lips leave that little bit of saliva my nerves send blissful pulses to my brain which in return makes my body shivering with anticipation for the next one

Maddi plays with my hair while Kyle kisses sloppily her free hand

I never felt so good in my whole life

Her fingers running through my locks make my scalp go numb while Hipatias kisses keep getting closer and closer to my mouth until we kiss

Colours starts to blend together as I close my eyes and I feel my anxiety, my fears, my trust issues my imposter syndrome my sense of inadequacy the hate I have for my past comrades myinsecuritiesmydysphoriamydysmorphiamyrage

gone

all gone

far away

far away million light years away left behind dying like the stars in a system too old to be remembered

there's only bliss

there's love

I kiss Hipatia

She then kisses Maddi

Kyle and I feel each other skin, each other limbs, each other sweet sweat

my nails pierce Maddi's skin while she moans gently begging for more

there's peace

there's kindness

there's joy

a sharp pain followed immediately by pleasure fills my limbic system as Maddi's canines make their way in the side of my neck eradicating any thoughts for a couple of seconds that feel like centuries

I don't want to go back to Jupiter

I want Maddi, I want Hipatia, I want Kyle

I don't want be to be an Independent Terran

I want to be a pet

I want to be Sinea's tulip

My body is numb with overstimulation my mind is composed of millions of figments made of pure pleasure

I-

"Little one?"

"..."

"It's time to go, you all collapsed. We are taking you to bed."

"C-can..."

tell her tell her that you want to be her pet tell her now

"Sure you can sleep with them tonight, if only you could look at the three you. You are so cute all melted one against the other."

"Sinea~"

"Sleep, my dearest, tomorrow we will talk."

"That went well."

"A lily filled with Class D, a pretty strong strain of A and enough N to denying any climax despite almost reaching it. Wasn't I the cruel one, Xarsei?"

"Oh come on, what's the fuss? You don't really care, or maybe?"

"Watch your mouth."

"Maybe you are upset because I drugged your poor pet, ehm ward, without you knowing it."

"Do it again without my permission, Xersei, and I'll punch you so hard in the face you'll leak sap for a month."

"Duly noted, Sinea~"

********

#floretposting #hdg #human domestication guide #affini

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user-rui · 1 year ago

Text

Dominant!Seme!Male!Reader x Submissive!Uke!Male!Insert - Part 2

(U/n) = Uke name

(Y/n) = Your name

Here's the second part to this story.

A simple, smutty short story. Will contain BDSM. I did the opposite earlier in the book, but I think it's time to do it the other way around. The scenario I'm imagining is like the uke is a 'pet', and the seme is a master, just so that you can better understand the story. They're still in a romantic relationship, but they enjoy sex this way.

-Narrator's Pov-

"Inside you? But there's already two toys inside you, I won't fit," You stated as you began to strip, letting your own monster of a cock free from the confinements of your pants. "You want me to put it in with everything else right?" You said, your voice sounding very sarcastic.

"N-no~! I-I'll break if.. If you dooo~!" He cried, looking back to see your erect member. He squealed and looked back at the bed, both excited and scared. "Maybe if you push the tail out, I can put mine in. I'll give you three minutes, just using your ass, see if you can push the tail out. And if you don't..." You trailed, brushing your tip against the entrance, making the other whimper in fear at what you would do. (U/n) began to push the toy out, making distressed and pleasured noises as he squeezed his ass, trying to get the toy out.

"You have a minute."

The smaller male cried out and tried harder, more tears forming in the corners of his eyes as managed to get it out just in time. "Well done," You chuckled, getting onto the bed and behind the other, rubbing your member a little and applying some lube. "(Y-y/n)... V-vibrator..." (U/n) panted, whining a little as he felt the smaller toy still deep inside. "W-wait..! Vibrator!"

"Why wait? I'm sure you can handle a vibrator along with my cock," You seductively said as you trailed a finger over his back, making him shiver at the touch. Without further warning, you shoved your member inside of the other, until you were balls deep.

You let out a pleasured sigh as the vibrator came into contact with your sensitive organ, and you grabbed the remote to turn the toy onto the highest setting, making (U/n) arch his back and let out loud and lewd moan. You had began to pound from the near beginning of inserting your member into the other's wet core, pounding mercilessly as he cried and groaned, making music to your ears.

It fueled you to go faster, harder, until the smaller male lost his voice. "I told you, Ngh.. You can handle it~" You said, panting heavily from the amount of force being used. You held onto his waist, slightly digging your nails into the other's soft skin as you pulled him towards you with every thrust, harshly pushing the toy against (U/n)'s prostate.

"AHHHHH~!!" He screeched, his voice breaking at several points as you felt him tighten and shudder violently. "Dry orgasm, hm~?" You groan, not stopping your movements, even though the smaller male was practically a corpse underneath you. (U/n) was a moaning mess, and a mess in general.

His (uke hair colour) locks were messily scattered, and even a bit wet from all the tears and saliva that was overflowing out of him. He shook whenever you pushed into him, and he didn't have the energy to even grip the sheets anymore.

"P-pwease... N-n-need... C-cum..." He mumbled, his eyes were lidded and his tongue was sticking out. He mumbled some more, weakly shaking his head in protest as you felt your orgasm draw near. You were grunting as you sped up, closing your eyes in pure bliss, feeling your orgasm come.

You let a satisfied moan escape your mouth as you let your semen flow into the smaller male, making his eyes widen at the sudden feeling of warm liquid invading his ass.

You reached down to remove the metal ring, which was covered in pre cum, and almost immediately, you could feel (U/n) member twitching violently as his seed spilled all over the blankets. The smaller male arched his back and let out a lewd moan as he rode out his orgasm.

"That was amazing," You huffed out, catching your breath from the intensity of the release. "Don't you agree?" You looked at the other male with a puzzled expression when you didn't get a response.

Even though he was still twitching and jerking at times, (U/n) was beyond exhausted and was definitely not going to wake up any time soon. You chuckled and turned off the vibrator, removing it from the other's ass.

You took off the cuffs and got up to go to the washroom to get something to quickly wash the other off. After changing the bed sheets for the back up one's you keep in the closet, you slipped into bed, holding the other close to you. "Good night, (U/n). I love you," You mumbled, feeling the tiredness of the previous activity kick in. Best sex ever... You thought as a tired smile appeared on your face before you drifted off to sleep, feeling your lover's warmth next to you.

#cross posted on ao3 #original story #reader insert #seme male reader #bxb #yaoi bl #yaoi smut #x reader #top male reader #smut #oneshot #original content #bxb smut #yaoi #bdsmplay

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meabh-mcinness · 2 years ago

Note

Hello there! I just wanted to say that ive been a fan of yours for a bit and I really really love your work. I hope you keep up the amazing feels and are doing good in general!

I would like to ask for iruma with mom!reader.

WITH RECENT EVENTS! in the manga our boy needs some proper comfort.

I want the reader to hold iruma and tell him that everyone started caring about him because of him, I wanna see along the lies of the reader telling him " they will see the human in you and they will love you for it just like you love them as the demons they are"

( i also want mama reader just going full on quiet rage on kalegos brother to the point her aura consumes the ball room and he feels like his chest to going to cave in)

IRUMA IS SAD BUT ALL HIS ADOPTIVE PARENTS ARE WILLING TO HELP!

But thank you for taking the time to reade this i hope that this isn't too hard for you to do and please keep being awesome!

Thank you very much! I've been doing good, though I'm tired what with starting a new job and all, and I hope you are as well!

Sorry this took so long to get out, but it's finally here! Hopefully you're OK with it, since I did take a little bit of liberties with it.

Main Masterlist

Boss B*tch

When Narnia tries to put Iruma in his place, it ends up being him who is shot down instead. By you, Iruma's parent, who is none too pleased that an overconfident mutt hurt their baby's feelings. Luckily, if there is one thing humans are good at, it's mimicking that they are much more fearsome predators than they actually are.

TW! The only thing I can think of is the reader does draw a bit of blood and grabs Narnia's hair and threatens him. I don't think there's anything else?

One minute.

You had looked away for one minute, distracted by Alice and Razzbery fighting over Amaryllis, and when you looked back your son was no longer by your side. A frown flitted over your face as you swept your eyes over the ballroom. With so many colourful outfits, it was rather easy to find the blue-haired boy in his near black suit. He was still back where you had been originally, standing by Fenrir, or Fen-chan as he insisted on being called.

Iruma appeared to be sparkling as he chattered on about something. A fond smile appeared on your face as you excused yourself from the group to wander back over to him. Logically, you knew that you had to let him go off on his own, and yet you were incredibly anxious to leave him be when surrounded by so many high-ranking demons. And evidently, as you watched Iruma's face scrunch into confusion before falling into fear as Fenrir said something in return, you had been right to feel so.

Your eyes narrowed, your smile falling as Fenrir started to crowd in Iruma's space. You were close enough now that you could hear what it was that Fenrir was saying. He seemed to be going on a rant about the possibility of humans invading the Netherworld and, from the way he phrased it, made it obvious to you that he was more than aware of their existence and seemed to have a personal vendetta against them. And more than likely he knew about you and Iruma being humans. As much as you had liked his quips, it was obvious.

Fenrir was a danger.

And you wouldn't allow danger near your son. Not after coming so close to losing him in the heartbreaker exam. Your nerves, which had been slowly loosening since then, tightened once more and your teeth were bared before you had even thought about it. Eyes narrowed, you watched as Amaryllis pounced on Iruma from behind out of nowhere, and vaguely wondered how she had got there first, before pushing the thought away. It was obvious from the way her body was tensed, one hand raised, that she was about to attack Fenrir too, but you had got there first.

Before she could strike out, you were there, palm hitting his face, nails digging into his skin as your hand flew out. You watched as he fell to the ground, his eyes widened in shock at the force and his blood splattering out against the ground next to him. You were suddenly very happy that you had grown your nails out to try and blend in with the demons here, as he tentatively raised one of his hands to the shallow claw marks on his cheek, blood still rising to the surface.

It was rather obvious from his dropped mouth and empty eyes that he was in a state of shock, as if he really couldn't comprehend that someone, much less you, had actually struck him. From the corner of your eyes, you could also see everyone else staring at the two of you as well. Amaryllis seemed to be stuck somewhere between surprise and pride, and Iruma had forgone all composure as he stared with eyes wide and mouth open, and all the varying demons around seemed to be imitating him.

To be fair, you could kind of understand why. This was a ball where they were supposed to be celebrating the future, and now there appeared to be two individuals fighting. One of which was a self-proclaimed third most important member of the Border Patrol, a force that most did their best not to make an enemy of. And you had sent one sprawling to the floor with one hit.

There would most likely be consequences, you knew, as more of your anger seeped out of you. Amaryllis could have got away with it easily, being a member of the 13 Crowns. But you? You were just an unknown, unranked, being. Even if you are a child of one of the three greats, you, yourself, held no real power. And you had picked a fight with a demon who was leaps and bounds more powerful than you.

A fight you were determined to win through sheer willpower alone if necessary. Losing was not an option when Iruma was involved as collateral.

"You talk of beings that don't belong so well, and yet don't seem to recognize that the only one here who is out of place is you. You are nothing more than an overconfident mutt at my feet who needs to be retaught manners," He stared up at you, eyes wide at the seeping aura of anger and danger that poured out of your every cell.

Suddenly a giant black wolf materialized above him, with three eyes, and multiple tails raised in anger. All snarling fangs and posture, and while you felt fear tear through your body, you stared up at it as if you were unimpressed, before pulling your lips back and giving a loud snarl of your own at it. You watched it pause for a second, ears flickering in its hesitancy at this tiny being in front of it, before the canine abruptly vanished again. Leaving behind Fenrir, still at your feet.

He appeared to be out of his shock and was kneeling now, likely trying to stand up while you were distracted. Well, you couldn't have that just yet. You quickly grabbed a fistful of his hair and leaned down while dragging him up so your faces were inches apart. A hiss left his mouth at the abrupt action, but he quickly shuts his mouth again at the look on your face.

His mind was racing as he tried to comprehend what exactly was happening. He knew you were a human, and humans were supposed to be weak little creatures. Easy prey that even an infant could catch, so logically you were supposed to be as well. And yet here you stood with all power reeking off of you like you were the Demon King himself. In the face of your fury, he felt a lot like some pup before the raging alpha of an enemy pack.

He could practically see it, instead of your human form, a large wolf with long flowing fur the colour of your hair, that would put his Cerberia to shame. Felt the large clawed paw on his chest with the way he struggled to breathe under the pressure, could hear the low furious growl that rumbled out of your chest, past the large fangs poised to rip him to shreds.

He felt more like he was looking at a deity of wrath than a human. He was as awed at your presence as he was fearful, as he stared up at you.

"If I ever find you talking such drivel to my child again, I will skin you alive before ripping out your eyes, shoving them down your throat, so you can see my claws rip your carcass open while wearing your skin as a dress. Do you understand me?" you growled out at him. He nodded as best he could with your hand still clutching his hair. You leaned in more till you were right next to his ear, and whispered, "I know you know what I am, but you will cease and desist any attempts against me and mine before I show why our two worlds were really separated. After all, it was never for the benefit of human lives that demons vanished off to someplace new," before you abruptly let him go while standing up straight. He collapsed slightly, almost falling to the floor again before he caught himself with his knees. His head stayed bowed, showing his back, suitably cowed before you.

"Good boy, now go on, apologize."

Fenrir staggered to his feet before you, head still bowed. "Please forgive my rudeness, my lady. It will never happen again." He slowly turned towards where Iruma was standing, still flabbergasted at your display, before straightening up when he noticed the demon's gaze on him. Fenrir bowed again at Iruma, "And to you too, milord. I got too carried away, and it was wrong of me. I am sorry for scaring you."

Iruma started to move his hands slightly, to wave away the apology, but one quick shake of your head had him lowering them again. "It's - It's alright..." Iruma said, still startled and somewhat lost at what was going on.

Fenrir raised up from his bow to Iruma, and turned back towards you, lowering his head towards you once again, "If you'll excuse me, my lady, I think I'll go wash my face." He stayed still until you nodded your head, before he turned away and walked off, presumably towards where the washrooms were. Your eyes stayed narrowed on his form until he disappeared from your view by the surrounding crowd. And really, when had it gotten that big?

Shaking your head mentally, you did your best to ignore the crowd as you turned your attention to Iruma. He still looked as shocked as before as you made your way over to him. He straightened once more, though he fidgeted a little bit under the intensity of your look. Likely misreading your determination as anger at him.

Squishing his cheeks in between your hands as you finally made your way to him, you turned his head this way and that, before looking him up and down. Satisfied with your inspection but not still high on nerves, you asked him if he was OK. He gave the best nod he could with his head still stuck in your hands, and you quickly let him go. Seeing a look in his eyes though kept you from fully believing him.

Had you scared him? You generally presented a very calm parental relationship with him. Trying your hardest to never give in to a temper and always think things through calmly when dealing with anything with or near him. You would hate to find out that the one time you let anger consume you had changed his perception of you.

Hearing two shouts of Iruma’s name, you turned towards where two individuals were forcing their way through the dispersing crowd, dragging you out of your thoughts. Now that the show was clearly over, the other occupants were going back to their original groupings, still chattering about what had happened but no longer as interested in watching you.

Focusing back in, you found the two individuals were Amerie and Alice. Both talked over the other as they tried to find out what happened and if everyone was OK. Waving off their concerns, you simply commented that a dog had to be retrained and that it had been handled before grinning at their flabbergasted looks.

Glancing over towards Iruma you noticed he seemed to slowly withdraw into himself. His eyes clouded over as whatever he was thinking slowly consumed his mind. Thinking quickly, you gestured over to where a few tables were and suggested that you took a quick break after all the excitement. Amerie and Alice had clearly come to the same conclusion as you, as they quickly nodded and surrounded Iruma as if trying to hide him from view as you led the small group over. Amaryllis declined the offer, saying she still had some socializing of her own to do, before veering off away from. Judging from her determined walk, she was likely on her way to visit the misbehaving dog from earlier.

With Iruma and you settled at a table hidden to the sidelines, you couldn't help the fond smile that crosses your face as both Amerie and Alice fawned over Iruma. Both clearly expressed worry over how he felt about what had just happened, but were not certain about what to do to make it better. When Iruma shooed them away to have fun and that he simply wanted to have a moment alone, your smile dipped into a frown. Due to the way he was raised, Iruma always jumped at the chance to have others around him. Constantly craving their affection and company. To push others away after something like that clearly said something was wrong. And you had a good feeling what it was.

You were going to kill Fenrir the next chance you got.

You gave the two demons across from you a nod and put a hand on Iruma's shoulder gently. "Don't worry, I have him. Go have fun and make connections. We'll join in again later."

They both hesitated, clearly still uncertain about leaving him, before nodding in acquisition. With a few last words, they left to socialize with the others, and you watched them go before turning back to Iruma.

"How about we get out of here briefly," you suggested with a wink at him.

His eyes widened at your words, staring at you with a dropped jaw, "But we promised Opera-"

"We promised not to leave the Deviculum, and we're not." You nodded to the large curtains strewn along the walls. "I noticed them earlier, but didn't think we would need them. Every one of the curtains leads to a balcony. We'll be out of prying eyes, and you get a space to breathe, while still technically staying within bounds."

He blinked owlishly at you before tilting his head in thought. It was quite obvious there were two sides warring in him, but yours must have won out when he nodded and moved to get up. He followed obediently behind you as you led him to the closest window. Giving a quick look around to make sure no one was looking your way, you lifted the curtain a bit and gestured to him to go through. Technically speaking, you didn't actually know if you were allowed out here.

Iruma didn't need to know that.

Moving to go behind the curtain yourself, you gave one more cursory glance before following him outside. The second you were outside, you couldn't help but take a deep breath of the cool air. You hadn't even realized how stuffy the room was until you made it out into an open area and were enjoying the light breeze blowing through. Opening the eyes you hadn't even realized you had closed, you made your way to where Iruma was leaning against the railing, still looking as downcast as before.

"Will you tell me what's on your mind?"

"I'm just thinking. About what Fenrir-san said. That humans didn't belong here. It made me wonder if I don't belong and-"

At Iruma's clearly lost face, as he suddenly stopped talking, you amended what you thought earlier. You weren't going to kill Fenrir. You were going to absolutely slaughter him.

"Iruma, honey, you, if anyone, belong here the most." He gave you a look, which you returned, before breaking into a small smile. "I'm being serious here. Yes, we're humans, but so what? We might be an invasive species by many people's standards, and it's true they can do a lot of harm."

You gave him an encouraging smile before continuing, "Sometimes those invasive species can do a lot of good too. You've already taken Babyls by storm. Done things that others thought were impossible, and they were good things. You brought together the misfit class, took back the Royal One classroom, and created things no one else has seen here. It was all you that did that." Seeing him open his mouth, likely in protest, you ploughed right on. "And before you argue, yes, I know you had help. But do you think Rome was built by a single person? Or that it was the Emperor alone who ruled Japan? They all had help, and they did great things with that help, as you will do too." You paused for a moment to take a breath before you went on a rant. "Look, what I'm getting at is that both here, and in the human world, there will always be people who hate you for things out of your control. You know what we do to those people, though?"

He shook his head, confusion clearly written on his face. You gave him a sharp tooth grin in response to his look, "We steam roll right over them and prove them wrong. Fenrir said humans don't belong. Prove him wrong by not just surviving, but thriving here. Keep working your way through those ranks until you feel good enough to look him in his face, smile and say 'You're wrong, I do belong here' before walking away from him. Some call it spite, I call it a purpose. Either way, it works." You carefully grabbed his shoulders and looked him in the eyes through his mask, "I know it's harder to do than say, but always remember that I along with Sullivan, Opera and all the others will always be here for you. Whenever you stumble or fall, we will pick you back up till you can walk on your own again. OK?"

He gave you a bright but watery smile and nodded.

"OK. Now let's get back in there and show them just how much we belong here." Iruma nodded again before rushing to give you a tight hug, burrowing his face into your chest. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed tightly before letting him go and gently ushering him towards the door again.

"Alright, let's do this."

Unbeknown to you, there was a new faction formed that day. Demons naturally flocked to those that held power, and someone who could take down another demon so effortlessly and without magic meant they were extremely powerful.

‘If Sullivan was still insistent on not taking the throne, then perhaps his child could take it in his place,’ they thought.

You had quite a few words for them when you found out. Especially when you found out it was Fenrir who was spearheading it.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #mairuma #welcome to demon school iruma kun #mairimashita manga #mairimashita iruma kun #m!ik #welcome to demon school! iruma kun #m!lk #welcome to demon school #iruma kun manga #mairimashita iruma kun spoilers #mairimashita! iruma kun x reader #welcome to demon school spoilers #welcome to demon school iruma x reader #iruma suzuki #naberius narnia #narnia naberius #iruma #suzuki iruma

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megalony · 1 year ago

Text

Bound To Her

This is a Jonah Hauer-King imagine, requested by Nina, I hope you like it lovely, thank you for the amazing request and lovely feedback.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

@jonahhauer-kingg @melaninjoys @luna2034 @mystiqueprincess @fangirl-tothemax @musicistheway @wandamaximoffbae

Masterlist

Summary: Jonah is broken when (Y/n) needs to take a break from their relationship and he has to find out why. He can't survive without her. (Little bit of angst and fluff to make up for it in the end)

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dear God, how long have you been here?" Something akin to fear shook through Alex's voice when his eyes set upon one of his oldest friends.

Jonah did not look good.

The colour beneath his eyes was a dark shade of purple like wild berries with streaks of red slashing through. He couldn't keep either of his eyes open fully, they were half lidded and drooping down, raged with lack of sleep and too much alcohol. Jonah's complexion wasn't much better, his pale skin was verging on grey and his usually bright crimson lips were a faded shade of pink with white cracks slitting through them that disappeared when enough alcohol coated his lips.

Compared to normal, sitting here at the bar, Jonah didn't look his usual height. He looked like he would barely scrape five foot five with the way his back was arched, his shoulders were hunched and his long legs were hidden beneath the bar.

Both his hands were cradling an empty shot glass and the pad of his fingers were running around the rim, caressing it gently.

"A while,"

"Well I could guess that. Come on, I think you've had more than enough."

He didn't know what he had signed up for when he agreed to pick Jonah up from the bar. He thought he would just be ferrying his tipsy friend home and making sure he actually got through the front door in one piece. Now he could see Jonah, he knew that wasn't going to be the case.

How could Alex take him home and leave him alone like this? what if he tripped going up or down the stairs or fell and hurt himself? What if he passed out or threw up and couldn't look after himself?

"Do you wanna come stay at mine for the night?"

"I want (Y/n)," Her name rolled off the tongue like it was meant to be spoken by his lips only. It was so natural and free and loving and just her name made Jonah's eyes water and turned his world on its axis when he stood up.

He could hear the sigh that Alex let out before he felt his friend wrap an arm around his torso to keep him upright when it looked like he was about to keel over.

"I know, mate."

"No, t-take me to her, now."

"Is that a good idea?" Alex didn't know the ins and outs of what had happened almost a month ago. All he had gathered from two of his closest friends was that they were on some kind of break, and not by Jonah's voice.

Everything had shattered around him when (Y/n) said she needed a break. Jonah didn't know why. He didn't know what he'd done or what he could do to improve it and bring (Y/n) back. She was the only one for him, she was the light at the end of the tunnel, the person who understood him when others overlooked him. (Y/n) was home and Jonah couldn't cope without her. The longer he stayed away from her, the worse he started to feel until alcohol was the only thing that numbed the tears and the throbbing in his head.

He didn't know what he was meant to do anymore. Jonah couldn't operate without (Y/n). He woke up every morning broken and aching when he realised the bed was cold and empty beside him. He could barely contain his anguish when he stared at his phone and realised it was never (Y/n) calling or texting him.

He scrolled through their pictures and begged to rewind time and go back to the moments captured on his phone.

What did he do wrong?

"It's okay, I'll walk there." Jonah started veering to the left when he tried to walk without letting his weight fall on Alex but he stopped when he felt his friend grab his upper arm and pull him back.

He would walk the distance, he would walk all night if he had to so he could see (Y/n) and if she shut the door in his face he would sit on the doorstep and wait. He would wait until the world ended if he had to, but Jonah had to see her.

"Alright, alright. Where is she?"

Alex would never forgive himself if he let Jonah stumble off, intoxicated and confused like this. He would get himself run over or fall in an alley or get mugged. At least if Alex drove him and (Y/n) didn't want to see him, Alex could then take him home and make sure he was alright.

It didn't take long to get to (Y/n)'s sister's house where she had been staying since the break between her and Jonah.

Both men were more than relieved when (Y/n) opened the door, wrapped up in a jumper with bleak, tired eyes that awakened with worry when she realised who was here.

“I'm sorry, he was determined to see you.” There was an apologetic yet worrying look in Alex’s eyes which resonated throughout his posture. He had one of Jonah's arms slung over his shoulders and about half of his weight resting on him. He was the pillar keeping Jonah from collapsing on the doorstep and he knew if he let his friend go, he would fall down and not get up until the sun shone in the sky.

"Come in."

Both of them were surprised when (Y/n) opened the door and beckoned them to follow her inside. Alex had been prepared to take Jonah back to his house for the night and Jonah had been ready to sit and wait here for the rest of the night until he sobered up and (Y/n) decided she wanted to see him.

"He's had quite a lot to drink by the look of him." Alex stuffed his hands into his pockets, silently looking between (Y/n) and Jonah, unsure what he was supposed to do now.

Just one look at Jonah had tears welling up in (Y/n)'s eyes and a sadness brewing in her heart when he slumped down onto the sofa. He folded in on himself like a piece of paper, arching his back and pushing his head down to rest on his knees with his hands knitted into the hair at the back of his head.

He knew he was a mess, but he didn't care. All he cared about was (Y/n).

"Thanks for looking out for him, it's late, you should go home. I'll take care of him."

"Thank you,"

(Y/n) leaned over and indulged in a small hug with Alex before she saw him out. There was no point him staying and babysitting Jonah when (Y/n) could take care of him perfectly fine on her own. He wasn't a handful, he wasn't slurring or shouting or crying, he was a sombre mess and as heartbreaking as it was, (Y/n) could do this.

"Are you okay?" (Y/n) rested her hand on Jonah's back and started to rub soothing circles but she was taken by surprise when he leaned over and shifted his head onto her lap instead. His hands grabbed at her thighs as if to steady and ground himself and his breaths were hot and wet against her bare legs.

"I can't cope without you. I just needed to see you again, hear your voice… touch you again."

"I'm sorry," She could feel Jonah groaning into her skin before he slowly pulled his head up so he could look at her.

His deep green eyes were blown wide, presumably from the alcohol he'd been consuming all night, but there was a gleam in them that always made (Y/n) go weak at the knees. And when she looked down to his pale lips and saw his tongue darting out to wet them, she could feel everything stirring inside her, about to come bubbling up to the surface.

"I don't want you to be sorry, I just want you."

The alcohol was giving him the courage he hadn't had in weeks. It gave him the ability to speak to her when before, all he could do was stare at her picture and wish his thoughts could telepathically register with her. Looking at (Y/n) only broke his heart and she stole his ability to speak without meaning to. With liquid courage Jonah could try and talk to her after weeks of silence that was quickly killing him.

"I know…"

What was she supposed to say? What should she do?

He was drunk, he wasn't going to remember this conversation in the morning and he probably won't remember how he got here or what happened tonight. Having a serious conversation with him wasn't going to work, it wouldn't help either of them when (Y/n) was conflicted and Jonah was intoxicated.

But that still didn't help (Y/n) work out what she should do, right in this very moment. With Jonah looking at her like that and gliding his hand up and down her thigh, he made it very hard to think straight.

"What did I do wrong?" Something snapped inside (Y/n)'s stomach like an elastic band had been stretched too far and broken, shooting right through her heart and lungs.

She never meant for Jonah to think or feel like he had done something wrong, that wasn't her intention and that wasn't what happened. If she'd of known that was what he had been thinking this last month, she would have tried to speak to him. (Y/n) would have visited him and sought him out sooner if she'd of known he thought he had done something wrong.

He could never do anything that would make her leave.

(Y/n)'s hand started to shake when she reached up to cup his face and she could feel the tears starting to fall when he gripped her wrist tightly like it was his lifeline.

"Oh Jonah, honey, it wasn't anything you did, I promise."

The way she said his name had shivers rocketing down his spine and a fire igniting in his stomach.

"Then why did you go? Please tell me. I refuse to believe you don't love me anymore… and if it wasn't something I did, then I don't know what it was." Even though he was still highly drunk and some of his words started to slur and slow, he talked as if he was only the tiniest bit tipsy and not fully sloshed and inhibited with alcohol.

Maybe it was time to talk to him, set things straight between them. After all, (Y/n) wasn't sure she could stay away from Jonah any longer and he didn't seem like he was going to budge, drunk or sober.

Maybe if she told him, he wouldn't recall their conversation in the morning. She might just get away with clearing it all off her chest and having the slate be wiped clean when they woke in the morning. Things could change and move forward and she wouldn't have to torment herself any more or fear about hurting him.

"I didn't want to hurt you, I thought a break would calm me down and let me sort things out, put things right. If I'd of known you felt like this I would never have stayed away but I couldn't hurt you any more."

"Why would you hurt me?"

"Because I was scared… Darren was getting too close and I- when I pushed him away he kept coming back. He had wandering hands that never stopped and he said if I told anyone, everyone would just think I cheated."

The way Jonah slumped back against the sofa looked like (Y/n) had cocked back and slapped him.

She should have told him.

How could he help her if he didn't know what was going on? How could he protect her if she didn't talk to him and instead chose to shut him out because she thought it would help him. (Y/n) didn't have to protect him, she didn't have to save him from any pain because the only pain Jonah couldn't withstand was being away from her. This month had proved that. He could take anything but (Y/n) being torn away from him, that was his cryptonite.

"I broke us off so he couldn't threaten to tell you anything and I could get rid of him."

"Sweetheart, you need to know that I think so highly of you… but you don't have to protect me when you're the one getting hurt."

Jonah moved before (Y/n) could register what was happening.

His hand swiftly glided up her thigh and beneath her shorts until he could grip the soft flesh of her hip. He leaned forward and smashed his lips against hers before the alcohol washed away the little bit of courage he had and his unsteady balance caused him to lean into (Y/n) until she fell back. Her back hit the cushions and Jonah swallowed the surprised squeak she emitted while he steadied himself with his other hand pressed down beside her head so all of his weight didn't collapse onto her.

Part of him knew he should pull back, apologise and leave, but the other part of him, the selfish side told him to keep going. And he was only encouraged further when (Y/n) hooked her legs around his hips and let him lean into her and mould his hips against hers.

How could he turn away when she tasted so good? How could he force himself to leave when (Y/n) was his home and she was letting him get his foot back in the door?

"You've no idea how much I've missed you." He whispered each word against her sugary lips, barely parting enough to speak before he devoured them again. Too afraid to pull back fully and never taste her lips again. There were never going to be enough words in the world for him to describe how broken he felt or how horrible his misery had made him when he let her walk away.

Jonah didn't think he would survive losing (Y/n) a second time.

"I think I do."

(Y/n) kissed the corner of his mouth before she cupped his face between her hands and smoothed her thumbs over his flushed cheeks. She took a moment to commit his face to memory, to see the way his eyes sparkled with haze and lust and how his lips parted, eager to kiss her again and again until he passed out.

"Don't leave me again,"

The tender smile that pulled at her lips made Jonah feel weak and he didn't want to kiss those lips again just yet, he didn't want to risk breaking that smile which sent his heart rocketing in his chest. Instead, he let his chest lean down onto hers and attached his lips to her neck like a vampire starved for centuries.

In that moment, with Jonah's teeth biting to bruise her skin and his hands roaming every inch of her that he could grab at, (Y/n) knew she was done for.

She knew right then that she couldn't push Jonah away anymore, not when it was killing both of them to be apart and now they had collided together, nothing was going to stop him. He wouldn't leave her, couldn't leave her. He loved her too much to let her walk away a second time and (Y/n) couldn't break her own heart and leave him again.

The break between them hadn't been permanent, and now it was over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you thirsty?" (Y/n) felt Jonah's arms binding around her waist and his fingers splaying out over the front of her hips like he was about to pull her into a dance. His face tucked into the crook of her neck and her knees all but buckled when he bit down on the spot just behind her ear.

She barely managed to nod in response, feeling a hum vibrate from his lips through her neck before he gently turned her around and started to walk towards the table in the far corner.

His lean chest glued up against (Y/n)'s back and every inch of him pressed into her as they walked in sync, one foot in front of the other as if they were one person. Reaching down, (Y/n) held onto Jonah's arms before she turned her head to nuzzle her face against his curls and breathe in his scent.

They hadn't been here at the party for very long and (Y/n) was sure they wouldn't be here for much longer, either. Not with the way he was clinging to her and the force he kissed her with.

When they reached the table, (Y/n) reached out and grabbed two plastic cups filled with whatever alcohol was in the punch bowl. She could feel Jonah nudging her hair back over her shoulder so he had better access to her neck and it made her shiver. She could barely put one foot in front of the other when he growled quietly against her and the vibrations radiated through her back and shook her lungs in her chest.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

His arms stayed deadlocked around her waist while they walked slowly back towards the other room so they could sit down with Alex and a few other friends they had tagged along with tonight. But (Y/n)'s brain wasn't registering where they were going or what they were doing, she just let Jonah be her guide while she concentrated on walking properly and breathing slowly. If he carried on like this she was going to jump him.

"Wanna sit down?" (Y/n) felt how raspy her voice was and how quietly she spoke but she knew Jonah heard her when she felt him nod into the crook of her neck.

(Y/n) kept tight hold of the cups when Jonah suddenly spun round and flopped down onto the sofa, tugging her with him until she landed with a thud on his lap and some of the alcohol sloshed out of the cup and spilt onto her hand and his jeans.

He knew she was part-way drunk when she laughed instead of cursed at the spillage.

Slouching down, Jonah shimmied a little on the sofa until his back was arched down and he could spread his legs out, easily fitting (Y/n) on his lap with her legs dangling between his. His arms stayed bound to her waist and he perched his chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder so he could take a large swig of his drink before he let (Y/n) put it on the coffee table in front of them that his knees were bumping into.

Neither of them could concentrate on whatever it was Alex was ranting happily about. He could have been talking about the end of the Earth and they would have just smiled and nodded along. They were too amused by each other to bother taking a big interest in his drunk ramblings.

Biting her lip, (Y/n) tilted her head down a little when Jonah gently swept her hair over her shoulder before he attached his lips to the top of her neck just below her hairline.

He made a slow, wet trail down her neck, kissing over each column of her spine before a finger hooked in the top hem of her dress so he could pull it down and continue his trail.

(Y/n) sipped her drink, doing her best to concentrate on each gulp she downed and control herself so she didn't end up choking in front of everyone when Jonah decided to graze his teeth against her spine to wind her up. But when she felt his free hand suddenly pull up the hem of her dress, (Y/n) held her plastic cup against her lips to hide her grin from prying eyes and disguise her bush from her friends sitting around her.

She tried to stay still and act unaware, she really did, just to see what Jonah would do and how far he would go. And he kept going. His fingers dug tighter into her dress until he was about to put holes through the thin material and he raked it up her leg agonisingly slowly. He pulled it until her dress was bunched around her waist and he was about to keep going before (Y/n) realised her underwear was about to be on display.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) put her cup down before she turned herself around on his lap. Her knees dug into his hips, creating a hissing burn in his sides that only made him grin and her arms looped around his neck so she could tug his hair and tilt his head back to make him look up at her.

"You're insatiable, you know that?"

"Only when it comes to you," His hands found her waist again and he scrunched up her dress in his tight fists when (Y/n) barely let her lips touch his before she took his lower lip between her teeth.

"Get a room! You can't do it down here in front of everyone, you know." Alex nudged Jonah's shoulder but he barely felt the light impact. His eyes were enraptured by the girl sitting on his lap.

"Good idea," Jonah mumbled against (Y/n)'s lips, letting go of her dress so his hands could hold her bum while he shuffled to the edge of the sofa and sat upright.

He was bored by this party already, and he knew (Y/n) felt the same. It was time to find a vacant room upstairs or get a taxi home and continue this in private.

He had her back, and he wasn't letting her go. Not for anything in the world.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

#jonah hauer king #jonah hauer king imagine #jonah imagine #jonah x reader #imagine #the little mermaid #the little mermaid imagine

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