Anna/Lucifer inspired by The Quiet of Wanting by @bloodandcream
He nurtured her sense of self, her sense of want, when she was most vulnerable. But she couldn’t fault him for that. He was as trapped as any of them were.
Notes: Happiest of birthday wishes to msdoomandgloom, you old biddy. <3
-
Anna scuffed her black and white saddle shoes on the pavement outside the diner and squinted against the bright summer sun. She was waiting for her friends come for lunch, having not much else to do in the small town. Ruby and Sam had gotten married right after they had graduated high school, and Anna knew that she’d probably see less of her closest friend as they started a family together. But for now, in the summer between high school and adulthood, they had plenty of time to spend with her as time as giddy newlyweds.
Anna knew that she would be expected to marry and settle down soon. At the latest by twenty. Her mother was already nagging her about it. Her boyfriend, Dean, was a very sweet guy who had a stable job at the factory where almost every man in the town worked. His dad worked there too, so did Sam now, so did Anna’s father. Dean was kind, and gorgeous, and good to her. He was a little older, but they had been high school sweethearts for a year before he graduated. No one huffed at the slight age difference, because they had made - as everyone said - such a cute couple.
It was only a matter of time before Dean proposed. She couldn’t ask for a better life. But there was still a tight clutching panic inside her when she thought of marrying, having children, living her whole life in this small town and in the small role that was her allotted place in the world.
A scowl took over her pretty features as she crossed her arms over her chest, white blouse and pink poodle skirt a standard that most girls wore. There was a thunderous rumble from down the street and Anna swiveled to look like everyone else on the sidewalks. A sleek chrome and black motorcycle roared into the gas station across from the diner.
A young man in dirty jeans and a leather jacket despite the heat filled the bike’s tank and wandered into the service store. Before Anna knew what she was doing, she was across the street standing in front of the bike, reaching out towards it. It’s not as though she hadn’t seen a motorcycle before, but she’d only seen a few passing through the town and never one up close like this. It was something new, and exciting, shining in the dullness.
“Like what you see?”
Anna’s head snapped up to sharp blue eyes studying her. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - “
“I’m Luc.”
“Anna.”
He leaned back against the gas pump and studied her. It made something tingle under Anna’s skin.
“Do you wanna go for a ride?”
“Aren’t those dangerous?”
“Yeah,” mirth lit up his face in the tilt of his lips and the glint of his eyes, “but that’s why it’s fun.”
Anna bit her lip and looked between the bike and the boy. They were dangerous. Both of them. And she knew that of the two of them he was definitely more dangerous than the bike. A boy - a stranger - from out town, most likely a vagrant and probably a low life.
“All right. Let’s go for a ride.”
-
The leather of the seat stuck to the inside of her thighs, her skirt rucked up and billowing back in the wind. Arms wound around his waist held on tight and he was a solid warmth that grounded her. Anna feared she might fly away if she didn’t have him to cling to. She wondered what that would be like.
Although the bike was smaller than a car, it seemed like so much more of a beast of a machine. More primitive. The steady vibration beneath her that jarred up her spine and rattled her teeth made something tight and pleasant coil low in her stomach. Pressed up against the curve of his back with her chin hooked over his shoulder, Anna watched the road fly beneath them and the trees blur around them.
She lost track of time, of any sense of reality as she knew it, melding with the machine and the boy and feeling something new, something tenuous and quivering, unfurl. The skin of her arm prickled and her hair knotted in the wind, cheeks whipped by it and eyes stinging.
Anna had no idea where they were going and she didn’t care. Luc drove away from the town and through the winding farm fields around them that rolled away in ripples of green and gold. Eventually, he slowed his bike and turned onto a rutted dirt path that lined a field. Anna wondered if he knew where he was going.
Stopping beneath the overhang of a copse of old oak trees with heavy branches hanging low, Luc turned off the bike and Anna unclutched her hands from their hold in his jacket, unwound stiff limbs from around him. Her legs wobbled as she stood and didn’t carry her very far before she was collapsing in the wild grass underneath the trees.
She couldn’t stop laughing.
Luc dropped onto the grass next to her, stretching out in the shade. His smile was brilliant and his gaze was heavy.
“We’ve gone pretty far, should I turn around and take you back home darlin’?”
“I don’t want to go back home.”
“Do you want to come with me?”
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere. Everywhere.”
He had rolled onto his side, propping his head up on a crooked arm. Anna smoothed her hands over her skirt and lolled her head in the grass to look at him.
“What do you do for a living? You can’t just ride all the time. Can you?”
“I take odd jobs here and there. Sometimes I hustle, or scam people.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“Does that bother you?”
“I don’t know.”
He reached out towards her and shook a knot out of her hair with his fingers, brushing his hand against her cheek. Insects chirruped in the hazy summer air, the leaves of the tree rustling with a slight breeze. It was the beat of her pulse that was loudest in her ears.
“I’d take you with me.”
“Why?”
“You’re very pretty. Why not?”
Anna knew what those words meant. What it would mean to go with him. It was dangerous and it was foolish and it made her tremble with excited longing.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Luc leaned over her, rolling his body closer to lay along her side as he kissed her. Anna had known this, the frail connection of lips, heavy breathing and heated skin. She had felt this before, with Dean, but never more. Luc placed a hand on her thigh and shifted it under her skirt, his body hard muscle next to her, pressing against her, and there was more to this. A heavy promise, his tongue licking past her lips, Anna parting her thighs and tilting towards him, arms wrapping around each other.
The wild grass scratched her legs and tangled in her hair, Luc lifting himself up to settled between her legs. She made a space for him there, welcomed him in the cradle of her thighs. Deft fingers unbuttoned her shirt, exposed her to him and Anna could feel the rise and fall of her chest with her short breaths. He stroked along smooth skin and crooned at her, dropping to place kisses underneath her neck and down, down to where he was tugging at her bra.
Anna wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, pushing his leather jacket off, still warm from the sun. His white t-shirt was damp clinging to his skin with sweat as she slid her small hands down the curve of his spine and pressed them to his bare skin there. Underneath his shirt, skin flushed hot and smooth, Anna dared to glide her hands along his body beneath his clothes.
Luc looked up from her chest with a smile, genuine and pleased. He sat up and pulled his shirt off, expanses of colored design decorating his chest and upper arms. Anna touched and traced the swirls of color, marveling at them. It was beautiful she thought, it was art.
Strong hands pushed her skirt up and Anna could feel heat underneath her cheeks as he looked at her laid out on the grass for him. Sunlight through the canopy of leaves cast mottled shadows over his face, his hair ruffled from her fingers running through it. His fingers were dragging down her thighs, rough with callouses, tracing patterns against her skin that made her shiver. He tugged at the white cotton panties she wore, pulling them aside and looking at her. She had never felt a gaze against her skin like this, pressing against her palpably, it felt like he could look in to her. Like he could know her.
Anna blinked up at him, passive and uncertain. He dipped down between her legs and kissed her. The shiver crawling under her skin turned into an aching tremble. He licked and kissed at fevered wet skin that was growing wetter. Her hands were still at her side, unable to comprehend or know, overwhelmed by the roil of pleasure that pulsed out from between her legs, curved up her spine, moaned out past her lips.
Luc kissed the inside of her thighs and up the quivering plane of her belly. He crawled up her body, sinuous and assiduous, dragging his hands along her skin and his gaze down into her. She heard the rustle of his pants and the snick of a zipper as he settled between her thighs again. Pulling her legs up, and wide, placing her hands on his shoulders, she watched him as he hovered over her and guided himself inside.
The stretch was tight and pleasurable, the slow breach of him into her body an unknown fullness that felt like completion. She thrummed with new secrets and the passion he pressed into her skin with his lips and his hands, with all of him surrounding her, pushing in to her, against her.
Her pastor, her parents, were right, this was a dangerous thing. Anna felt lost to it, thralled by it. She wanted nothing more than for this moment of intense pleasure to draw out eternally under the summer sun in the promise of youth. Everything was this moment, was this boy and all he had to offer her.
-
It wasn’t until later when they were back on the road, with her arms circled around his waist and his bike thrumming beneath her, that Anna figured it out.
What it truly was that he offered her. What it truly was that she had wanted without knowing.
when the serpent comes
with coiled body
and twisted tongue
he offers knowledge
like over ripe temptation
what truth is truth
what love is love
in the dark dark shadow
that god casts
dig down child
dig deep
and the fires you see
in the belly of the earth
will show you new knowledge
bloody nails, dirty hands
the outcasts cry
what pittance is this to pay
for the truth of all
-
It was an old white church with a tall proud steeple and a wide bright rosette of stained glass. The cross on top of the steeple stands high reaching up into the heavens begging for their Father to notice. He wasn't looking, He didn't care. Yet the humans still groveled.
Lucifer crossed the threshold, sacred ground, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't sting a little. It was more a wound to his pride than anything else, that he should be banished from his Father's sacred space. Ambling down the aisle, he traced his fingers over the curving shoulders of worn wood pews. They held the imprints of all the faithful that had stepped foot in the church. The guilt of the sinners, their longing; the pride of the believers, their hope. He could feel them here, and it left a sour taste in his mouth.
This vessel was weak. It wouldn't be long until it burned out, but for now it was new, it was whole. It would serve it's purpose until he could find his true vessel. There were other things to find in the meantime, other demons, other angels. It was a war they were after, and wars needed bodies, needed weapons. Wars were hungry things.
When Lucifer came to the top of the wood steps she was standing in the middle of the attic room with her face turned to the stained glass window, vivid red hair tumbling down her back, hands limp at her side. She was talking to them. As soon as she felt him though, she turned, those wide human eyes startled and frightful.
She took a step back, raising her hands defensively.
"You. What are you?”
"What do you mean?"
"You're a monster."
Lucifer narrowed his gaze like it would narrow his focus on her, and he understood. She wasn't meant to be human after all.
"You can see them. My wings."
"What?"
"I am an angel, Anael."
If she had the sight to see his true form, she might see who he was. But a serpent's tongue is hypnotic. His wings were broken and charred, mangled things, singed black and wilting. There were times Lucifer considered ripping them from his back, but he wanted to force his brother to see them again, to force Michael to see what he had done.
"You are an angel? Are you hurt?"
"This happened a long time ago. My wings were injured irreparably in the fighting."
"In the fighting?"
"In heaven's war."
Anna was still backing away from him, until her legs hit the edge of a large wood desk and she leaned against it. Lucifer stepped towards her, reached out and cupped her face in one of his hands. She was a young and lovely thing, ripe for corruption.
"Sweet child. You have seen me for what I am. You hear my brothers singing. You must know the truth of it."
"What do you mean?"
There was hunger in her eyes. To know.
"You are an angel, Anael."
"What?"
"You are fallen from heaven and bound to a human vessel. But you are still an angel. I have come to help you."
She shook her head, dislodging his hand, straight red hair whipping around her face.
"I don't need help."
"You do. Because they will come for you. You hear them, their incessant plotting, their anger. There are angels that would hurt you, Anael, that would steal you away. I only want to help you."
"How can you help me?"
"I can restore your Grace. You would be an angel again, with the power to fight. I would give that to you. And you would stand by my side with a gleaming sword."
He brought both hands to her face and held her lightly, tilting her face up to look at him. She would see his Grace, the light of his presence. Though his wings were mangled and torn, his Grace shone bright still like the Morningstar, and she would awe at his beauty.
"I don't, I don't remember anything. I don't know how to fight. I can't be an angel."
"You are. I will show you the way. If you give yourself to me, I will give you everything."
He bent forward and kissed her forehead in benediction, thumbs tracing the curve of graceful cheekbones. He bent forward and kissed her lips in possession, body pressed to hers and she trembled beneath his touch.
"What do you want from me?"
He kissed her cheek.
"Your loyalty."
He kissed her other cheek.
"Your faith."
There was a flush underneath the pale smooth skin, plush lips parted just barely.
"But what do I need to do?"
"I will find your Grace. You need only accept it and you will be restored to the angel you were. Then you will fight with me."
"Why are the angels fighting?"
"Angels are always fighting. It is what we do."
Circling a hand behind her back, broad palm to the small dip, he pressed their lips together again and felt the hitch of her breath, the warmth of her body. There was wanting in fear and it had been insatiable curiosity, desire, that must have flung her from the heavens before. The angels starved in the barren darkness cast by God's shadow. Between heaven and hell, a forgotten angel on earth, she belonged with him.
Fingertips brushing under the hem of her shirt, tongue curling into her mouth, he could offer her all the temptations she wanted, all the knowledge she craved, if he could quell her doubts and fears. Pushing forward, slipping one leg between hers, nudging her up to sit on the edge of the desk, she parted her legs for him and brought her arms up to circle his neck. Tipped back, exposed neck, eyes closed, mouth open, she invited him in.
Lucifer kissed the smooth skin of her neck, taut with muscle and slender to the curve of her shoulder, pulling her shirt away from the jut of collar bone that dipped to the notch where he lay his lips. Slender fingers slipped through his hair and she shuddered.
"I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to kill angels."
"They will hunt you. They will hurt you. When they find you, would you slit your own throat for them?"
"But why?"
"Our Father has abandoned us, a long time ago, and his children are lost. I will lead you Anael, I will show you the way."
Twisting his hands up in the fabric of her shirt he lifted it and she lifted her arms. Unclasping her bra, pulling off his vessel's own shirt, he pulled her close. She was so fragile like this, hollow, an echo of her former self aching for the touch of her Grace again.
He was not leading her astray, he was leading her to the light of a new dawn.
"Stand by me."
Laying her down against the desk, pressing his mouth to the dips and rises of her body, he caressed the quivering planes of her belly and fit his hands to her hips.
"Stand with me."
Sure fingers at the waist of her jeans, lips above the pulse of her heart, he removed her pants and lay her bare. The bright sun shone through the rosette stained glass and cast shadows of saints along her pale skin, a vessel to be drawn on, stories to be told. The colors warped over the curves of her body, played in the swirls of her hair.
"Fight with me."
Kneeling at the edge of the desk between her thighs, legs fitted over his shoulders, he could show her how many ways there were to worship. Unclasping his own pants he let them fall as he crouched before her. She was watching him, with shaking hands she reached for him.
"And you will know the truth of all."
Pressing kisses to the tender skin of her thighs, he would be so gentle taking her apart, pop the seams one by one so the fabric doesn't tear. Then he could make her anew again, in his image, fill her with her Grace and shape it to his purpose. He held her hands while he lapped the pink wet places between her legs with a twisting tongue. Pressing the secrets of his knowledge into her skin, it was visceral truth, something frightening to behold and overwhelming to endure. But it could be so so sweet, peeling back layers till the core of it was exposed.
It wasn't something that could be said, primal knowing, it was something to be shown. With his hands and his tongue he would teach her. The taste of her body was sharp on his tongue, the quiet gasps of her pleasure in this sacred space echoed profane. She came alive under his touch, this empty angel, rogue by choice. There was no neutrality in the wars of heaven.
He moved his mouth against the secret places of her body and slid his hands over her skin. Rubbing his cheek against the soft patch of red curls he kissed the heaving skin of her stomach and slotted himself along her, between slender legs. Arms braced beside her head he beheld her, the beatific pleasure on her face cast in stained shadows.
"We shouldn't do this here."
Lips parted on a pant and bit swollen, still she resisted him.
"What love is more pure than that of the angels in the house of our Father?"
Closing his lips over hers, Lucifer swallowed her breath and let his cold burning Grace seep ever so slightly into her. Pulling her legs up around his waist, he pressed into her as she arched off the desk and clutched at his shoulders. Fingers tangling in the hair fanning around her, hips pressed flush and mouths devouring each other, she sank her nails into his skin leaving marks on the landscape of his vessel. Mark for mark, an act of possession, he sucked the swell of her lip into his mouth and kissed lower down the length of her neck, leaving his marks bit into her skin, blossoming dark bruises.
"You are mine."
"Yes."
"Give your soul to me and I will restore you."
"Yes. Yes."
Her eyes were glazed, her chanting a whisper, but it was concession and he greedily swallowed it into himself, sealing their bodies together mouth to mouth, pressed deep inside her. She writhed beneath him in ecstasy as he thrust into her, pulling forth all the secrets of carnal sin. Her slender body curled and stretched, skin taut over sharp bone, soft vulnerable stretches laid bare. She cried out and pulled him closer, legs locked around his waist, breath jagged.
He smiled, curled a hand beneath her neck to cradle her head, held on to the curve of her hip and fucked into her in the light of the rosette window in the attic above the altar to God.
"You are mine, Anael."
Her eyes snapped open like his revelation had wrapped around her soul and she knew the truth of it, body shuddering violently as she came, and he held her down body and soul when he released into her.
On the run from an abusive home but without money for a bus, or a car of her own, Anna decides to hitch hike. She's heard all sorts of horror stories about girls getting picked up by strangers and meeting horrible fates, but she's desperate. Lucifer, a drifter that just so happens to be driving through, never picks up people standing around on the side of the road. Never. But as he drives past the young girl on the guard rail, something tells him he needs to make an exception. When she gets in the car, Lucifer notices the bruise on her cheek, but deigns not to bring it up. Instead he asks her where she's headed, trying his best to sound friendly. All she gives him in return is "away." They travel the country together, passing through backwoods towns, miles and miles of countryside whipping by, the two of them growing closer and closer. They have no destination, nowhere they have to get to. Their only objective is to keep each other safe, and keep each other from feeling as alone as they did before.
Lucifer pulled his truck over to the side of the road and rolled down the window, raising his voice so the soaked girl could hear him over the downpour, asking “you need a ride, kid?” She nodded and got in the truck as he turned the heat up, smiling as he told her “the name’s Luc,” to which she muttered “Anna,” ducking her head to hide the bruise on her cheek that he managed to catch anyway. “Where y’headed in this weather, Anna?” Lucifer did his best to keep his tone light and friendly; all Anna offered him in return was “away.”
Lucifer silently admired the way such complete concentration looked on Anna's face as she began inking the star low on his hip. He'd never been the biggest fan of body modification (not that he thought people shouldn't do it, he just didn't see the appeal to getting yourself covered in ink and piercings) but his opinion changed the day his brother dragged him into the shop as emotional support while he got his Prince Albert and he spotted a redheaded beauty working on someone's back piece. Since that day, he's gotten four tattoos and three piercings, just so he could see her again.
Anna looked over the song selection on the jukebox, torn between All Shook Up and You, You, You, when she heard an angry "Get outta here, ya beatnik!" Coming from her father. She turned just in time to see a blond beefcake make his way out the door.
"That wasn't very kind'a you, big daddy," she chastised before following the stranger out onto the side walk. "Excuse me?" She tapped the man on the shoulder to get his attention. He turned to face her, blue eyes smiling down at her. "I'm mighty sorry 'bout my daddy. He can be a real stick in the mud when he wants to be."
"Don't worry sweetheart. I can't really blame him." The man leaned in close, caging Anna between himself and the wall. "Can't say I've met a man who's appreciated me makin' eyes at his daughter before."
Favourite pairing: Dean/Lucifer? Uh, right, yeah. It’s a tie between Sam/Lucifer and Castiel/Lucifer. (And I kinda ship Anna/Lucifer. Because a fallen angel and the Morningstar? Fuck to the yes)
A pairing I dislike with them: Michael/Lucifer, I guess. I mean, I don’t really dislike it, it’s just not my thing.
Something I wish we got to see them do: Actually battle it out with Michael at Stull Cemetery
Something I would change about them: Uhhh… Yeah, I got nothing. More screen time in Season Seven?
One of my favourite scenes with them: NICK SCENE. Like, not with Lucifer in Nick, but when he was convincing Nick to say yes.
