cw: stabbing, suicide mention, nightmare, OG lesson 38
summary: Some things leave scars, even without ever physically touching you.
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 //thanks to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic
As you held the dagger, Lucifer reached out and slowly closed his hands around yours. Then he guided your hand upward, preparing to strike. Taking a deep breath, you held it ready, pointing the tip of the blade straight at yourself. There was no hesitation when you thrust it into your chest.
“NO!” His eyes widened in horror as it drove between your ribs, the handle he was still holding onto quickly becoming stained with blood, soaking his gloves as well. Carefully, he lowered you to the ground, his hands trembling as they hovered over you uncertainly. “No, no, please…” he whispered.
Weakly, you reached out, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, smearing even more blood over his skin. “I- I’m sorry, Lucifer,” you gasped out tremulously as unbearable pain crashed over you.
“No, no…” he repeats, blinking rapidly. Was he holding back tears? You couldn’t tell, your vision was too blurry. Only when his thumbs stroked bloody streaks across your cheeks did you realise you were crying yourself.
Each breath you took was labored and unsteady, but the pain faded away, ever so slowly, giving way to a paralyzing cold, threatening to pull you down. Uncontrollable shivers coursed through your frame.
“You can’t die. Not now. Not like this. Please,” he all but begged.
I’m sorry, you wanted to say, but your mouth refused to obey you.
“You’re not going to die like this, I won’t allow it.”
You smiled at him and his face crumpled.
An agonised sob was the last thing you heard when you exhaled your last breath.
With a strangled gasp, you woke up, a hand pressed against your chest, right where you had driven the dagger into your flesh. There was no wound, no blood - just the sensation of your heart pounding within your ribcage, stuttering with each frantic beat. It took you a moment to orient yourself, to realise you were in your room where everything had taken place, but you were unharmed, alive. In the dim light, you looked down at your hand. The ring was right where it belonged, wrapped around your finger, proving that everything was fine, nothing bad had happened. No one got hurt. No one died.
And yet you couldn't stop the wild beat of your heart, primal fear still gripping you. You could almost feel the warm blood sticking on your skin, soaking through your shirt. Taking a deep breath that just ended up getting stuck right in your throat, you tried to calm yourself. To be rational about it.
It hadn't even gotten further than the attempt to take your own life back then. The blade never pierced your skin like it had in the dream, where it slid between your ribs, piercing your heart. Simeon arrived just in the nick of time, thwarting what was about to happen.
Still, there was an ache in your chest, hot and searing, as if the dagger was stuck deep inside you, ripping you open. It wasn't. Of course it wasn't. You knew that, you weren't stupid. It was a nightmare. Just a stupid nightmare. You knew. But what if…?
No. No. You needed to-
The thought hadn't even fully formed in your rattled mind, and you were already on your feet, shivering slightly as your bare soles met the floor. You didn't think about where you were going, acting more on instinct than anything as you padded through the dark corridors. When the familiar door was in front of you, light seeping out from the gap despite the late hour, you only hesitated for a short moment before pushing it open.
He raised his gaze from the documents in front of him, hair slightly mussed, the tie around his neck loosened. “Lucifer…” You hated how small your voice sounded, how shakily his name left your lips. Wringing your hands anxiously, you watched his eyes soften when he saw you standing there, looking so obviously rattled. He immediately stood up, walking over to you, reaching out to gingerly untangle your fingers. Without a word, he slowly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. A quiet, wobbly sigh of relief escaped you as you found yourself pressed into his chest. Your arms snaked around him in turn, fingers clutching tightly into his shirt, no doubt wrinkling the fabric. One of his hands found its way upwards, cupping the back of your head and holding you firmly against him. Closing your eyes, you let yourself sink into him until all you could feel was the strength of his hold.
The first sob that came forth unbidden startled you, and you found yourself helpless to stop the tears that followed. Instinctively, you began to pull away, not wanting to soil the expensive fabric of his clothes. However, Lucifer refused to let you go, instead shushing you quietly and pressing his lips to the crown of your head.
“It's alright,” he simply said.
It's not alright, you wanted to cry, nothing about this is alright. But you were unable to find the strength to speak, to force the words out. Instead, you vigorously shook your head against him, trying to choke down the sobs escaping you. He hummed in response, gently swaying from side to side with you.
“I know, I know.” His hand smoothed over your back in slow circles while he cradled you as closely as he could, making sure to fully envelop you in his warmth. Your knees were like jelly beneath you, threatening to give out if it weren’t for Lucifer keeping you upright. “Breathe with me,” he encouraged you. “Slowly now.”
Trying your best, you mirrored the exaggerated way his chest was rising and falling against yours, contrasting the shuddering, uneven breaths you had been gasping in. Despite the occasional quivers in your breathing, you could hear him humming in satisfaction at your efforts. And, gradually, the sobs stopped, replaced by quiet hiccups, and the strength returned to your legs.
Only when he felt the tremors in your body ceasing did he pull away a little, cupping your face in his palms, thumbs wiping away the moisture on your cheeks. “There you go. You did really well. Are you feeling better now?”
Meeting his gentle gaze with your teary eyes, you gave him a small nod, sniffling quietly. “I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to bother you,” you responded quietly, leaning into his touch.
“You need not apologise for such a thing,” Lucifer gave back without hesitation, tightening his grip on your face slightly. “I'm always here for you, no matter what. You know that.” He wrapped his arms around you again, kissing your temple as he held you close. “Do you think you can go back to sleep?” he asked softly.
You tensed at that, the thought of returning to your bed now, all alone, was enough to make your heart race all over again, your fingers digging into his back. “In my room, with me,” he added when he felt you going rigid, soothingly stroking your hair. “I ought to get some sleep as well. What do you think, hm?”
“Okay…” you mumbled, reluctantly pulling away from the comfort of Lucifer's embrace and wiping away the remnants of tears with your sleeves. “Don’t you have to work?”
He glanced back at his cluttered desk before looking at you with an indulgent smile. “The papers will still be here when morning comes,” he assured you, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead with a light touch. “I’d much rather be with you right now.”
summary: If someone had told you a year ago that the Avatar or Pride himself would be the biggest point of comfort during your migraine attacks, you probably would have laughed. Oh, how easily things can change.
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 //thanks to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic
The pressure which had slowly been building behind your eyes over the past hours was something you were more than familiar with. What you were not quite familiar with yet, however, was the fact that you now had someone who tended to you when these attacks happened.
Swallowing a wave of nausea, you raised your hand, mumbling out some words about how you needed to leave. You could hardly make out the teacher’s response; not that it mattered much. All your teachers had been informed about your condition long ago to accommodate you.
Moving sluggishly, you gathered all your things, standing up to stagger more than walk out of the classroom. In the quiet hallway, you leaned against a wall, sinking down onto the floor before fishing out your D. D. D. The bright screen made you wince, but you navigated to the messaging app nonetheless, opening your chat with Lucifer. The letters were fuzzy as you typed before pressing send.
”Migraine. Forgot meds.”
Leaning your head against the wall, you closed your eyes, doing your best to ignore the pain behind them, the incessant spinning sensation, and, well, everything else. The device in your hand vibrated a few moments later and you squinted at it again, your shoulders slumping in relief at the concise reply.
”I'm on my way.”
With that, you put the phone away for good, opting to just sit and wait for him to arrive. The approaching steps were nearly drowned out by the persistent high-pitched noise in your ears. Eventually, they stopped before you, clothes rustling as you cracked your eyes open to see Lucifer crouching in front you.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft. You peered up at his blurry face, his expression almost impassive save for the furrow between his eyebrows that only deepened when you didn't immediately respond. “Are you able to stand?” he asked gently, holding out a hand towards you. Taking it without a word, you allowed him to pull you back onto your feet, though you quickly braced yourself back against the wall for support, your vision narrowing. The ringing intensified, making it impossible for you to make out what Lucifer was saying as his lips moved.
“One moment…” you mumbled, trying to breathe through the dizziness. A hand steadied you by your elbow, and you could feel him standing closer to you, the warmth of his body palpable.
“-alright?”
“Ah… sorry,” you responded when you could hear him again. “Dizzy.” Once you had blinked a few times, you could see a bit more clearly. The look on his face was one of concern - but he took a controlled breath, smoothing the lines creasing his brow. Usually, you’d give him a small smile to try and ease his worry, though you didn’t have the strength for it this time.
“We need to get you home,” he said decisively, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you walk. Each slow step only made your head throb even more, and all you wanted to do was lie in bed and stop existing, even if only for a little while. The corridor seemed endless, and the overhead lights felt brighter with each passing moment. It was unbearable, and the sounds of your shoes hitting the floor drilled themselves through your ears, right into your brain.
After what felt like eternity, you were finally outside. The fresh air helped somewhat, as did the lack of harsh lights. It was at times like these that you found yourself eternally grateful for the absence of a sun in the Devildom. Still, you were feeling more than miserable and had no idea how you were supposed to make it to the House of Lamentation within a sensible period of time without collapsing.
Lucifer, apparently having read your mind, bent down, hooking his other arm underneath your knees. “I will carry you,” he decided, not hesitating for a second.
With you now securely in his arms, he started walking. Despite the gentle, gradual motions, you still groaned. “Shh, I know. I’m sorry. Just bear with it for a while. I will get you back home soon,” he tried to soothe you when you vocalised your discomfort. There now was a noticeable pick-up in speed, though the harsh rocking of a brisk pace was almost absent. Which, unfortunately, was still too much for you.
Everything had already been spinning around you while you were standing, but at least you'd been able to tell up from down. Now, suspended in the air and no longer upright, it was much more difficult. You had to look up at the sky above to orient yourself, unsure whether the spots and streaks you were seeing were part of the firmament or coming from your eyes. It was hard to even form a coherent thought, so you let your mind drift, allowing the jumbled thoughts and images to pass by.
His eyes drifted down to your face occasionally, checking in on you, and you didn’t have the energy to meet his gaze, much less say anything. So, the walk continued in silence.
It was nearly pitch black inside the house, and you could hardly make out anything. Lucifer, with his better vision, was unperturbed. As sure as ever, he proceeded carrying you, now up the stairs, without turning the lights on.
You didn't need to see to know where he was taking you, the route was more than familiar to you by now. His bedroom. After a moment, he entered the room, walking towards the bed where he gently placed you on the mattress. He very carefully lowered your head to avoid jarring you further, making sure you were comfortable.
“Is this alright?” he asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Mhm…” you hummed in response.
Lucifer then quietly searched through his bedside table, where he always kept some of your medication, just in case. Together with a glass of water, he eventually handed you a pill. Propping yourself up slightly, you took it, then slumped back down with a shaky exhale, closing your eyes.
You could hear him moving, then your shoes were taken off and a blanket pulled over your form, before he laid down next to you. An ungloved hand draped over your forehead, the palm covering your eyes as well, radiating a gentle, soothing chill. A relieved sigh escaped you, and you instinctively pressed your head further into his touch. His other hand found one of yours, holding it gingerly with his thumb stroking over your knuckles.
When you had first arrived in the Devildom, you were terrified about being found out, about being seen as weak by anyone, especially by Lucifer. But Lucifer was nothing if not scarily perceptive. Within just a few weeks, he had figured out that you were struggling and confronted you. He had been… surprisingly understanding, maybe because he himself got the occasional migraine. At the beginning, he simply arranged for you to get some accommodations - like being allowed to wear tinted glasses during lessons, or leave early if necessary. Sometimes, he’d even escorted you back to the House of Lamentation himself. And as the bond between the two of you changed, so did the way he’d care for you.
He made sure to keep several cooling packs in the freezer at any time, and kept whatever else helped you make it through an attack in stock, from groceries to peppermint oil - and your medication too, of course. Lucifer also ensured you were sticking closely to your sleep schedule, even if you found yourself feeling annoyed at his insistence at times. You knew he was only looking out for you, after all. And once you had officially started dating him, he would more often than not bring you to his room whenever you had a migraine to personally tend to you.
“I hate this,” you muttered.
“I know,” he replied patiently. “Try to get some sleep. If you need anything at all, let me know.”
You weren't sure how long it took you to fall asleep, or for how long you were asleep in the end, but, eventually, you woke up again, not feeling much better. And it was still pitch black. The mattress dipped slightly beside you, and you heard quiet shuffling.
“Lucifer…?” you mumbled, groggy. It grew silent for a moment.
“Shh, just go back to sleep,” he whispered back, settling in next to you. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“… time?”
“It’s not even midnight yet.”
You hummed, vaguely reaching out towards the silhouette near you. With a soft chuckle, he grasped your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “Do you want me to hold you, my dear?”
“Mh-hmm…”
“Alright then,” he spoke in a low voice as he gently slid an arm under your neck. He wrapped it over your shoulder, moving you until your head was resting on his chest, right where his heart was. Instinctively, you draped your arm over his waist, nestling yourself closer to the warm, steady presence. “There you go,” Lucifer murmured. Placing a hand atop your head, he stroked his thumb slowly over your hair, coaxing you back to sleep.
The next time you woke up, your mind felt clearer, and the discomfort had mostly dissipated. Opening your eyes, you looked around the dark room, before your gaze landed on the figure lying next to you. As your vision adjusted to the dim light, you could make out his face, his own gaze focused on you. Once you met his eyes, he smiled faintly, brushing gentle fingers through your hair.
“It’s a little after midnight. You slept for just around four hours,” Lucifer informed you quietly. “How are you feeling now?”
“Better…” You stretched your stiff limbs, the fact that you had hardly moved in your sleep painfully evident by the way your joints were aching. The RAD uniform was sticking uncomfortably to your skin as you shifted on the bed.
“Good.” His hand drifted down to your cheek, cupping it as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “Your pyjamas are on the dresser,” he said. “Feel free to change into them and get yourself more comfortable, hmm?”
Nodding in agreement, you gradually sat up, stifling a yawn as you did so. Lucifer remained in the bed, tracking your every moment as you stood up. You huffed, sensing his gaze on you. “I’m not going to collapse,” you insisted, though your legs beneath you felt anything but stable. Still, you persevered, steadying yourself against the nearby wall.
“Perhaps not,” he drawled. “But maybe it would be for the best if you stayed in bed. I can bring you the clothes.”
You couldn’t get any further, and he was already up, hands on your shoulders as he nudged you back onto the mattress. Within another moment, he had brought your pyjamas over. “Here.” You accepted the clothes and he sat down.
As you took the oppressive uniform off and changed into the comfortably loose-fitting pyjamas, Lucifer settled in beside you again, gathering you into his embrace once you were done. You wrapped your arms around his waist in return, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. He hummed softly as he felt your breaths tickling his skin and he gently cupped the back of your head, stroking your hair.
“Did this one come on suddenly?” he asked after a while
This was the only part of this routine you disliked.
When you didn’t respond he sighed, pulling away just enough to look at you.
“You know I’d rather have you simply miss one day than having you trudge through the lessons like this,” he said sternly, though there was still a certain softness to his tone, only reserved for you.
With a huff, you nestled your face against his neck, unwilling to meet his gaze. Mercifully, he allowed it. “I know…” you mumbled.
Lucifer hummed, resuming the slow strokes on your hair. “What good does it do for you if you’re unable to focus anyway, hm?”
He was right. Of course he was. And you hated it.
“It’s just-!” you cut yourself off before continuing. “It’s frustrating. It’s so, so frustrating.”
“I know it is. But you cannot push yourself like that, it will only make it worse in the long run.” Pausing for a moment, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, finger tangling in the strands of your hair. “And I don’t like seeing you like that. I don’t like being unable to do anything about it except comfort you whenever it happens. So, indulge me and take better care of yourself, will you?”
“I will try my best.”
You could feel him squeeze you just a little tighter.
summary: Out of all the things that have happened in the past months, getting stuck in an elevator really should have been the least stressful occurrence.
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 //thanks to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic
“It's always the same,” you complained as you entered the elevator with Lucifer. “Pharmacies never have everything I need. Instead, I have to visit five different locations just to get two medications. It's such a pain in the ass. And why is this one so high up anyway?” You pressed the button back down to the first floor, perhaps with more force than necessary.
Stifling an amused chuckle, he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. “At least you now have everything you set out to get and we can return to the Devildom.”
“I guess,” you sighed exasperatedly, running a hand through your hair as you watched the digits slowly decrease with your descent. “But we could have been done sooner.”
He hummed in agreement. “I suppose that is true. Although, I don't particularly mind spending time with you.”
Feeling his eyes on you, you stiffened at those words. How were you supposed to respond to that? “Ah, well, I can say the same about you,” was your awkward response. Heat crawled up your cheeks, and you scratched your neck sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.
Ever since you had come to terms with the fact you harbored feelings for him, it had become difficult to act normally around him. And lately, he seemed to spend more time with you, which didn't make it any easier.
You shook your head to dispel the thoughts. “Anyway, I-”
A sudden ominous rumble cut you off, and the elevator came to an abrupt stop, the entire construction shaking slightly around you. His hand immediately reached for your arm, steadying you when you threatened to stumble to the floor. Your heart jumped into your throat and you couldn't quite decide what you should be more preoccupied with - Lucifer touching you or the fact that the elevator was stuck.
“No way,” you mumbled in disbelief. “No fucking way.” Before he could act or even say anything, you had already bolted towards the control panel, pressing the alarm button frantically. To no avail. “Fuck…”
The next thing you tried was taking out your phone. Upon turning the screen on, the dreaded two words greeted you; no reception. “Seriously?” you muttered to yourself, pocketing the device again. “Do you have any reception?”
He shook his head, already having checked his own alongside you. “Unfortunately not, no,” he responded and you sighed heavily.
You glanced up at him, only to be met with his intense, piercing gaze. Had his eyes always been this brilliantly red? Clearing your throat awkwardly, you turned your attention back to your hands, lowering your head. The heat in your cheeks was undeniable, but…
“It's- it's getting really stuffy in here,” you commented with a nervous laugh.
“I suppose it is,” he gave back evenly. “Will you be alright?”
“Y-yes, I just… I hate- I hate being confined like this, it's- it's just- ugh! You don't get it!” You continued wringing your hands, forming them into tight fists before releasing them, never keeping still for a second. Lucifer watched you silently, his eyes tracking your movement. “We're stuck here for- for who knows how long. And you're just- you're just fine with it?”
“There is little to be done about it,” he said smoothly. “And we are not in any physical danger. Regardless, I do understand that this must be very stressful to you.”
“Sure. Yeah. Stressful. Not any physical danger. I guess,” you scoffed. “It feels like there's hardly any air left to breathe, Lucifer. And out of everyone I could have gotten stuck with, it just had to be you. Just my rotten luck, not to mention that this thing could-”
“Pray tell, what is so bad about being stuck with me?” he interrupted you, curiosity lacing his tone.
Still too caught up in your anxiety and frustration, you simply blurted out, “Because I really like you and this is embarrassing.”
Silence. Only your uneven breathing was painfully audible.
Fuck.
That wasn't what you had meant to say. And yet you did. The edges of your vision were dark and frayed, and your body felt numb, almost foreign. There was no sound anymore. No words, not even your ragged breaths. Just the loud ringing in your ears drowning everything else out.
You blinked and glanced to your side. Something filled your vision, not the oppressive cold grey below and around you, it was a mix of blue and black instead. At least you thought those were the colours you were seeing.
Another blink. It felt like something was compressing your chest. When you looked down, nothing was there. But you could see it falling and rising erratically, quickly. Too quickly.
A tug on your hand, a slight pressure around it, and you blinked again. The ringing in your ears faded away. You raised your head, the shapes and colours slowly clicking back into place, forming a presence sitting beside you.
“Lucifer…?” you mumbled and you barely recognised the sound of your own voice.
He squeezed your hand in his. “Yes. Are you with me again?”
Looking away, you nodded slightly, not trusting yourself to speak yet. Distantly, you understood what had just happened; not only did you confess your feelings to Lucifer, but you had then proceeded to freak out in front of him. You hadn't exactly made a great impression on him with that, you knew that.
A part of you was still on edge, wanting to run off, but the rest of you was too exhausted and, of course, with the elevator stuck, there was nowhere to go. Had the ground beneath you opened up and swallowed you whole, you certainly wouldn't have complained.
“I'm sorry, that was…” you trailed off, your voice unsteady. “Well, I… don't know…”
Silence, once more. Then, “I must confess, I have grown rather… fond of you myself.”
At that, your head snapped up, disbelief painted across your face. Maybe you had misunderstood him?
He held your gaze, his eyes unusually soft. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he held your hand a little tighter, his thumb stroking your skin. “This is not how I had intended to tell you, although… I suppose life doesn't always go according to plan, does it?”
You stared at him, at a loss for words, but the uncomfortable tightness in your chest was easing. Lucifer seemed amused at your befuddled expression, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his lips curved upwards. “I wish to court you. Will you allow me to?”
“Of- of course, yes,” was your still audibly stunned answer.
Slowly, he lifted your hand to his mouth, watching you carefully to make sure he wasn't overstepping any boundaries, before pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I'm glad to hear that.”
“I… uh… you're welcome?”
Lucifer chuckled, opening his arms. “Come here, will you?”
Shifting closer until you were touching him, you embraced him as he wrapped his arms around you in turn. Feeling the warmth and sturdiness of his frame, the frantic pounding of your heart gradually ebbed and you couldn't help the relieved sigh escaping your lips.
“Do you think we'll be stuck in here forever?” you mumbled, your words a little muffled against his shirt.
His chest vibrated with laughter. “I doubt that. I'm sure we'll be out of here sooner rather than later. But until then, let us stay like this, hm?”
Simply nodding, you allowed your body to relax. The circles Lucifer was rubbing on your back and the steady rise and fall of his breath against you finally made you feel at ease despite the situation.
It was silent for several moments as you dozed lightly leaning against him, drained from the earlier stress. Only when the elevator shook slightly around you did you jolt, returning to your senses.
“It's alright,” he reassured you quickly, his fingers combing through the strands of your hair that had become disheveled from the way he had been holding you. “Seems like we will be getting out any minute now.”
Easily, he stood up and helped you to your feet, taking your hand back in his own. As you looked up at him, a smile curved his lips when you met his soft gaze. Heat colored your cheeks and you averted your eyes, prompting a small, fond chuckle from him.
After another rattle, the elevator resumed its journey to the first floor and soon enough, it stopped again. With a ding, the doors slid open and Lucifer squeezed your hand in his, walking out with you by his side.
summary: There weren't a lot of things one could be certain of when thrust into a new place, a new world, surrounded by complete strangers. But there was one thing you did know - Lucifer wasn't one who would look kindly upon your weaknesses. Or was he?
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic
Where you were going or how fast hardly mattered to you. All you wanted to do - needed to do - was to get away. Somewhere, anywhere, that was not the classroom with all those eyes staring at you, judging you, waiting for you to fuck up, so they could laugh at you, pick you apart with their gazes alone.
The ragged breaths you were gasping in made your lungs burn, and your heart felt as if it was about to burst through the ribs caging it inside of your chest. You could barely feel your legs as you kept propelling yourself forward to god knows where, ignoring your body begging you to stop, to just let yourself sink to the floor and fill your lungs with precious air. But you couldn’t stop, not with your brain screaming at you to keep running.
Suddenly, your world was thrown even more off balance than it had already been, your mind struggling to catch up with the unexpected collision. Something was gripping your upper arm and your waist, and it was the only thing holding you upright at the moment, because your knees had given out.
Being shaken and a voice shouting your name jolted you out of the stupor you had been caught in, and you finally glanced up to see a somewhat hazy, though familiar face, wearing a frown, red eyes piercing through you. He must have been attempting to get your attention for a while now. Blinking a few times, you tried to bring your surroundings back into focus, to orient yourself.
“Sorry, Lucifer,” you wheezed, trying to withdraw from his grip; all that did was make you even more aware of just how much your head was spinning, how you were unable to stand on your own legs. He carefully lowered you down on the stone tiles and knelt in front of you, the hand on your arm sliding to your wrist, wrapping his fingers around it. Your pulse was thumping frantically beneath the cool leather of his gloves, and you distantly wondered at what point your body would reach its limit and shatter in his hold, bursting into thousands of pieces.
“Look at me,” Lucifer said sternly when you wouldn’t stop staring at his hand, wide-eyed. “You need to breathe properly. Slowly.”
Grateful to have something to focus on that wasn’t the panic-addled urge of your brain to run away, you willingly obeyed his command and looked up at him. Perhaps it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but his eyes seemed to be softening, although his voice didn’t lose its authoritative quality. “In… and out. Follow my rhythm,” he instructed you, taking ever so slightly exaggerated breaths for you to mirror.
It took a few moments of the unusually gentle coaxing, but eventually, you were breathing more steadily and your pulse returned to a healthy pace, the suffocating sensation retreating. The fog clouding your senses gradually dissipated, and he let go of you, sitting back. After giving you a moment of silence to gather yourself, he asked, “Are you feeling any better?”
You nodded, starting to feel a bit awkward about the situation. Lucifer was one of the last people you’d wanted to see you like that. “Yes, thank you.”
“Good. Now, care to tell me what that all was about?” he questioned firmly, albeit not half as harshly as you expected him to be.
Chewing on your bottom lip, you considered your words for a few seconds, fidgeting with your hands. He was always so well put-together and perfect; surely he would judge you if you explained to him what had happened, maybe even get angry. “I’m not good at holding presentations,” you finally started to explain sheepishly. “It makes me really nervous. No matter how much I practice before or how much I prepare myself, it just never goes well. I forget what I should be saying.” You shrugged helplessly. “I start to panic. And then I run away.”
“You struggle with holding presentations?” he repeated incredulously.
Feeling shame wash over you, you scrambled to explain yourself, a knot forming in your stomach, “I know, I know, it’s stupid, I should just pull myself together, practice more, and-”
Lucifer frowned, raising his hand to cut you off. “That is not what I was trying to say. I’m simply confused as to why you have not made me or anyone aware of this issue. We could have found a different way for you to complete the assignment.”
Surprised, your eyes snapped up to look at him, and you searched his face for any signs that he was making a joke, but there were none. “Are you serious?”
He huffed, sounding somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Of course. I am not one to joke about such matters.” He rose to his feet, holding out his hand towards you to help you up. You accepted, and you quickly found yourself upright again - maybe a bit too quickly, because you would have fallen right back to the ground if it hadn’t been for him steadying you. Once you were standing securely, he released you and stepped back, reestablishing a respectful distance. “Do you wish to resume your classes or would you prefer to return to the House of Lamentation for today to recuperate?”
“Am… am I allowed to just… skip the classes?” you asked in disbelief. The blatant astonishment in your voice gained you an odd look from Lucifer that you couldn’t quite decipher.
“Yes. I imagine that this must have been rather exhausting, no? Surely, resting after such an experience would be wiser than forcing yourself to attend the rest of today’s classes,” he argued as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.
You stared blankly at him for a few seconds before nodding slowly. “Yeah, I guess.”
An awkward beat of silence passed between the two of you, and he cleared his throat. “I will escort you back, then.”
“What? But Satan was supposed to bring me back today… and aren’t you too busy anyway?”
He stiffened slightly at your reaction, straightening up more. “Unlike you, Satan is not free to ‘skip’ the rest of his classes today. As for my workload, you need not concern yourself with that. I assure you, I am fully capable of managing that myself.”
“Right. Yes. Sorry,” you mumbled, your face heating up.
He dismissed your apology with a wave of his hand. “No matter. Shall we go, then?”
With a nod, you started following him as he turned around, walking back towards the House of Lamentation. The walk was uneventful, aside from some stiff small talk you engaged in. Back inside, Lucifer addressed you again, “I assume you will be fine on your own?” When you nodded, he continued, “I shall go to my study now. I still have paperwork to tend to, but I shall also see to it that your needs will be accommodated in the future. If there are any other issues you have not mentioned yet, anything else I should know, now would be the time to tell me.”
His eyes bore into yours, making you shift uneasily. “There is nothing else,” you eventually said, lowering your gaze to escape the intensity of his. “Just- just the presentations.”
He hummed thoughtfully, regarding you with a furrowed brow. “Alright then. If that changes, inform me immediately. And I hope, for your sake, that you are telling the truth. I do not take kindly to having things hidden from me.”
“That’s all there is,” you promised earnestly, working up the courage to look up at him again. “I will tell you if something is the matter. And thank you for your help. Really.”
At that, Lucifer relaxed a little, seemingly pleased with your response. “Off you go then. Get some rest.”
You nodded and made your way up to your room, eager to finally be alone and curl up in bed. Closing the door behind you and kicking off your shoes, you crawled under your heavy blanket, sighing in relief at the familiar comforting weight. For some time, you were simply lying there, thinking about what had happened. If anyone had told you that Lucifer would end up helping you like that, you would have laughed at them. While you didn’t know him well after just a few weeks in the Devildom, you knew enough to assume he would react negatively to an emotional display like that. Or at least you thought you did.
Two light knocks on your door startled you, and you scrambled to get up, opening it to reveal Lucifer standing in front of you. He regarded you for a moment before clearing his throat and pressing a steaming mug into your hands. Accepting it, you wrapped your fingers around it, feeling the warmth seeping through the material. “I’ve read that humans like to drink tea to relax,” he said, looking at you intently.
For a while, you didn’t know what to say, blinking wordlessly at him. Then, you smiled at him, a tingly sensation spreading through your chest. “Thank you. That’s really nice of you.”
An odd expression flickered across his face briefly before he schooled his features back into their naturally neutral state. “Of course. Make sure to get proper rest tonight. Should you need anything else, let me know.”
Giving you one last nod, he walked away, leaving you to close your door and sit down with the mug in your hands. You took a careful sip from the hot liquid, savoring the slightly sweet flavor on your tongue.
Perhaps Lucifer wasn’t as bad as you had thought him to be.
I like to imagine that every fic happens in the same timeline as in "oh now I've been kidnapped..As if poisoning me wasn't terrible enough..Can't believe it's been a few months since that happened dayum how much would life insurance be for me at this point?"
summary: Did it truly matter that the hands cradling your face so very gently were bloody?
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic
A piece of fabric pressing over your mouth and nose was all it took to plunge your world into darkness, a pungent smell being the last thing you could process. You’d been on your way back from a short trip, unsuspecting, unaware of who was lurking in the shadows. How much time had passed, you couldn’t possibly tell, but as you finally came to, all you could feel was a dull pain engulfing your entire body. Upon trying to check for any injuries, you realized your wrists were tied, bindings digging tightly into your skin. Slowly, your other senses started to return to you, and you registered that you were sitting, something around your chest keeping you upright.
Forcing your eyelids open, you blinked a few times, attempting to make sense of your surroundings. It was dark, the small, sparse room only dimly lit. If you had to guess, you'd say it was some sort of basement; the floor was unfinished, and the brick wall looked rough. “Mh-” you tried to speak, but all that you managed to get out was a muffled, quiet sound. You’ve been gagged. A heavy weight settled deep in your stomach. The cloth forced between your teeth tasted musty, already damp with your saliva. Looking down with wide eyes, you took in the multiple rows of rope wrapped around your upper body, restricting your breathing, arms bound behind you at an awkward, painful angle that made your shoulders ache. The edge of the metal chair you were sitting on cut into your thighs.
When you wiggled around to free yourself, or at least loosen the restraints, the legs scraped on the crude floor, making your ears hurt. But no matter how hard you fought, it was futile. Holding back tears, you let your head hang, closing your eyes. Deliberately keeping your inhales slow and steady, you tried to think of a solution despite your racing thoughts. Panicking wouldn’t save you, you knew that. Clearly, you would be unable to free yourself without outside assistance. And with your mouth gagged, you weren’t even able to invoke one of your pacts to call them for help. So, what should you do? What could you do?
Before you had any more time to reflect on your circumstances, you heard heavy footsteps above you, drawing your attention. Seconds later, a door was opened, the light momentarily blinding you, then it was cut off again. In the remaining light bleeding through the crack of the door, you saw feet, legs and after that, slowly, the rest of someone unknown to you entered your field of vision - though it was obvious that it was a demon. Her eyes were unnaturally bright, the pale blue piercing through you. A wolfish grin curled around her lips as she stepped closer. You wanted to shrink back, huddle into the furthest corner of the room. But you couldn’t.
“Ah, finally awake, are we? I bet you must have a lot of questions.” Her voice was casual, as if she was simply out for a stroll while she towered over you. “Well, too bad! You see, as much as I’d like to have what would undoubtedly be a very productive conversation with you, I know you’d just call upon one of those so-called Lords that grovel at your feet.”
“Mph…! Mn…!” you tried again, only earning an amused chuckle from her.
“I’m not particularly keen on having one of those brothers that practically fawn over you come to your rescue. Pathetic, really. Demons of their status acting like that around a human. They're supposed to be leaders, to be an example to us lowly demons. Ha, as if! Traitors, all of them, and they should be treated as such.” She gripped your chin roughly, her pointed fingernails scraping along your flesh as you glared at her defiantly despite the ice-cold sensation running through your veins.
“Don’t give me that fucking look, human, show me some respect,” she sneered. For a moment longer, she held your gaze, then her eyes wavered. Faster than you could comprehend, a sharp smack resounded in the small room, and your cheek stung. The force of the slap made your head spin. “You’ll lose that defiant look of yours soon enough and learn to grovel at our feet, just the way it should be. I’ll correct the mistake that fool of a prince made.”
Leaning even closer, she brought her hand down to your throat, closing her grip tightly around it. “I could kill you, just like this,” she whispered harshly into your ear as you struggled against her. Faintness quickly took you over, and your vision became frayed at the edges. Were you going to die like this? “Throw your decaying corpse at the feet of these pathetic weaklings and watch them become consumed by their emotions. And then, I’ll be the king.” You couldn’t die. Not now. Not like this. Not here. Not at her hands.
Finally, she let go of you, and you slumped forward. Blood rushed in your ears and you coughed into the cloth. “Tsk.” She spat on the ground right next to where you were trembling on the chair. “That was more boring than I’d expected. Thought you had more fight in you. But you'll see-”
Her speech was cut off when, suddenly, the door was thrown open, banging against the wall and making both you and your captor flinch. “And what exactly,” drawled a frigid voice as slow steps descended the stairs, “was ‘more boring than expected’? Enlighten me.”
You immediately recognized who it was - of course you did. But the softness that usually laced Lucifer's tone whenever he was talking to you was entirely gone, replaced by a sharpness you’d rarely heard from him. It wasn't directed toward you, you knew that, and yet you couldn't help the shiver running down your spine at the sound of his booming voice. Though he sounded composed, it was clear that he was anything but. The air felt electric, and the dangerous aura he exuded made your hair stand on end. Your heart skipped a beat, only to start pounding faster, a whimper escaping from behind the gag.
Lucifer came to a stop in front of the other demon, who had become virtually frozen in place, all color drained from her face. Gleaming red eyes glanced at you, swiftly assessing your state, before, whatever it was he saw, made his gaze harden even further. “Look away,” he instructed you in an oddly soft tone, and then his focus returned to your abductor, who was now visibly shaking.
“M-my lord,” she stammered, the quiver in her words unmistakable. “Please, you must understand-”
Within the blink of an eye, Lucifer had her pinned against the wall, a pained shriek filling the room. “What must I understand?” he asked, sounding deceptively calm, as his fingers dug into the throat of the other demon. She fought against the grip, trying to loosen the hold. To no avail. Lucifer was unmoving, unbothered by the nails scratching at his gloved hands. Clicking his tongue, he let go, and she collapsed to the ground.
“Please,” she tried, her voice strained as she coughed, attempting to gather herself. A hard kick was delivered to her stomach, causing her to cry out again and curl in on herself. When it was followed by Lucifer stepping on her hand, you knew you should have heeded his order and looked away. As it was, you were unable to avert your gaze as the bones of her fingers cracked beneath the force of his foot. She was pulled up to stand, though most of her weight was being held up by him, pinning her against the wall once more. “I-I'm sorry,” she choked out as he pressed his forearm into her throat.
“Are you truly sorry? Or are you merely trying to save your worthless skin?” Lucifer questioned in a dangerously low voice. He trailed a finger along her cheekbone. “Perhaps,” he mused, “I should rid your body of it. Find a better purpose for it. I believe some bookbinders still use demon skin for books. It would make a terrific present for your family, wouldn't you agree?” He paused, taking in the horror flickering across her face with an impassive expression. “Of course, that would be rather time-consuming. And, quite frankly, I have more important things to tend to than your worthless existence. Let's make this quick then, shall we?”
As if she weighed nothing, he slung her toward the opposite wall, a sickening crack audible as her head made contact with the bricks. She bonelessly fell to the floor, groaning in pain. Before she was able to regain her bearings, Lucifer was kneeling beside her prone body, not caring about the rapidly forming puddle of blood that was dirtying his pants. A dagger glinted in the dimly lit room, and only when blood spurted from her throat, her last, gurgling attempts at breathing filling the air, did you look away, your breaths coming in sharp gasps against the cloth. You felt sick.
With the mangled corpse of the demon lying at the feet of Lucifer, his gaze returned to your quivering form. The intense sheen in his eyes vanished as he took swift steps toward you, appraising your pale appearance. Crouching near you, he partially obscured the gruesome scene behind him. But now, with him finally by your side, he didn't need to. You didn't want to look at it, didn't care about the dead demon, the only thing your sight was drawn to was him. All that mattered was the man before you. The man who could easily kill you just like he killed her, who barely even batted an eye at the wounds he’d inflicted upon that woman. You knew that, rationally, you should be terrified of him, at least as much as you’d been terrified of her. And yet you weren't.
Those same hands that had just killed in cold blood, still stained red, were gently working on undoing the painful restraints keeping you in place. Those same eyes that had shone with ruthless indifference as he had taken a life now looked at you with carefully guarded concern and cautiousness. The crimson streaking his sharp features, dripping off his jaw in beads, complemented the eyes that were looking at you with a contradictory softness perfectly.
Once the cloth was removed from your mouth, all you could muster was a broken sob in the vague shape of his name. With a soft sigh that was probably shakier than Lucifer would have liked to admit, you were gathered into his arms. A hand gingerly pressed against the back of your head, guiding your face into the crook of his neck. The wet blood on his glove was undoubtedly staining your hair, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care; the warmth and safety you found in his embrace was all that mattered.
“Do you have any serious injuries?” he asked quietly, his breath brushing against your ear. Upon feeling you shake your head, he lifted you from the chair, carrying your weight with ease, and you instinctively wrapped your arms over his shoulders. As soon as he'd made it up the stairs, you could hear multiple sets of steps approaching in a hurry alongside several voices, yelling over each other. You recognized all of them, and they rushed around you, a few of them touching you.
Lucifer tightened his hold on you as the sudden onslaught of sensations made you whimper and burrow yourself further into him. “Stop it. This is not helping,” he reprimanded them sharply, and immediately, it grew quiet and the hands withdrew. “I will return home,” he continued. “Do with the body as you wish, though you ought to leave some remains. And don't dawdle too long.”
With that, he went outside, the fresh, cool air replacing the stuffy, metallic tang of the basement. The trip back was short - or was it long? You weren’t sure. It was silent, neither you nor him said anything. The tension in Lucifer was palpable, his posture rigid as he carried you. You mindlessly played with the fabric of his shirt, rubbing it between the tips of your fingers while your head rested on his shoulder.
“I'm okay,” you whispered, although it sounded hollow even to your own ears. He released a heavy sigh and hugged you closer to him.
“You're okay,” he simply echoed.
Next thing you knew, you were back inside. Lucifer's bloody hands were gentle as they worked on divesting your still-trembling form of your clothes, his gaze never lingering anywhere but his own fingers. Not that you would have noticed either way; you were blankly staring ahead, only vaguely aware of his actions. When he had finished, he spoke in a soft voice, as if afraid to startle you, “All done. Are you ready to get in?” Your attention snapped back to the present, to the warm bathroom you were standing in. The tiles beneath your bare feet were a little cold, just now starting to heat up. In the background, water was running, gradually filling the bathtub right next to you.
“Lucifer…?” you mumbled, receiving a squeeze to your hands in response. Looking down, you realized he was gently holding them in his own, ugly bruises and abrasions blooming across your wrists. His gloves were still damp, some of the blood staining your skin.
“Yes. I’m here. Let’s get you cleaned up now,” he responded patiently, directing you toward the tub. Your steps were mechanical as you followed his guidance, entering the warm water and submerging your body in it. Drawing your knees up to your chest, you hugged your legs to yourself, simply gazing at the rippling shapes around you.
“I will leave for a moment to change. Call for me if something is the matter.” For a beat, Lucifer waited for a reply, a reaction, anything from you. When he received none, he sighed wearily. “It will only be for a moment, I will be right back,” he said before stepping out. As you submerged your hands, you watched as the water surrounding you turned a light shade of pink. The pain radiating from your wrists was distant, detached from your being. You observed how you flexed your fingers, then curled them toward your palm, nails digging into the flesh. Had your hands always looked like that? Turning them around, you inspected them, spreading the fingers apart, pressing them together and-
“Does it hurt a lot?” a voice asked and you flinched hard, spinning toward the source. Lucifer was kneeling next to the tub, his brow creased in a frown. “I did not mean to startle you. You seemed very… absorbed in your thoughts. I suppose you didn’t hear me return.” His gloves were gone now, with no traces of the blood that had marred his skin just minutes ago. He had changed into clean, comfortable clothes as well. Upon your prolonged silence, he reached for a nearby cloth, dipping it into the water, then moving it over your body in slow, gentle circles.
“Is this real?” you muttered, the words leaving your mouth before you had even formed the thought.
“Yes, it is real,” he confirmed calmly, though his ministrations faltered briefly. “We are in my bathroom, back in the House of Lamentation. You are safe here.”
“Mhm…” you hummed noncommittally, your gaze drifting down to your submerged hands as you balled them into fists and stretched them out. The water rippled at the repetitive motion and you couldn’t help but stare at the patterns it created. The sensation of the cloth brushing over your skin faded into the background. Only when larger hands stopped your movements, grasping yours gently, did you glance at Lucifer again. You blinked at him blankly. Something in his expression was off, though you couldn’t tell what it was.
“I’m tired,” a voice said and you didn’t have the energy to think about whether it was your own or not.
“Let’s get you into bed then, hm?” he suggested softly, letting the water drain and carefully supporting you as you stood up and stepped out of the tub. A large towel was wrapped around you with which he patted you dry before he helped you into a set of clothes. They vaguely smelled like him. With an arm over your shoulders, he guided you out of the bathroom and back toward his room. Once at the bed, you lay down, sinking into the mattress. For a moment, Lucifer simply remained next to you, regarding you with an unreadable look on his face. Eventually, he knelt beside you and opened the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a small container. Gingerly, he took one of your arms and scooped out some ointment to apply to the raw skin on your wrist, then he repeated it on the other side as well.
After stowing it away again, Lucifer turned off all the lights besides the candles and climbed into the bed next to you, cautiously gathering you into an embrace. A hand cupped the back of your head, hugging you into his chest as the fingers stroked your scalp. Aside from his even breaths and your slow, shallow ones, it was silent. An invisible weight was tugging on your limbs, the only thing holding you in place, holding you together, were the arms enveloping you.
“Can I let go?” you mumbled, not quite sure yourself what you were trying to ask, but he seemed to understand nonetheless.
“Yes, it’s alright to let go now,” he reassured you, squeezing you a little tighter. “I’m here and I’m not leaving.”
Humming in response, you nestled closer to him, feeling your breaths gradually synchronize with his as you surrendered yourself to the heavy warmth overcoming you. Soon, everything else slowly faded away until you finally drifted off to sleep, safe in Lucifer’s hold.
summary: Maybe Lucifer could allow himself to indulge every now and then.
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!
Lucifer wondered what had happened to him; why did his chest feel so warm and fuzzy when he looked at you, peacefully asleep on the couch in his study? He was the Avatar of Pride, the third most powerful demon in all of the Devildom, and yet you had wormed your way into his heart, made yourself home with frightening ease as if this was what you had been made for.
Crouching in front of the couch, he took in your sleeping form, the serene look on your face. How you were able to let your guard down in his presence, to be so trusting despite everything that had happened, everything he had done, was a mystery to him. Was he even deserving of the trust, the kindness you bestowed upon him?
With a gentle touch that contrasted his strength, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead. You stirred a little and he froze, holding his breath.
“Mh… Lucifer…?” you muttered sleepily, and your eyelids fluttered open.
Seeing your bleary gaze, he couldn't help but smile fondly, stroking your cheek with his index finger.
“Apologies, my dear, I didn't mean to wake you,” he responded in a hushed tone. “Go back to sleep.”
Humming in agreement, you closed your eyes again and Lucifer chuckled softly before standing up to return to work. However, he didn't get very far. Your hand had reached for his pants, tugging on them, and he crouched down, regarding you with an attentive, yet curious expression.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
“Are you done?” you whispered, seemingly a little more awake now.
“Soon, I promise,” he soothed.
“You said the same thing earlier,” you grumbled, pouting.
He sighed. “I know I did and I apologize for taking longer. I assure you, I will be done soon. Be patient for me, will you?”
When that didn’t make your pout disappear, he cupped your face with one hand, and pressed his lips against yours briefly, before placing multiple small kisses on your cheekbone. You giggled at that and Lucifer observed the blush on your face, the way the corners of your mouth were curving upwards.
“There it is. As much as I adore seeing that pretty little pout on your lips, I would much rather see you smile.”
The flush coloring your features grew more pronounced and you grasped his hand that was resting on your cheek to hide yourself from him. A pleasant tingling sensation spread through him as you nuzzled his palm and placed a kiss on the pad of his thumb.
Lucifer's gaze softened and he allowed his touch to linger for a moment longer, savoring the feeling of your breaths on his skin, before he withdrew, straightening up. “Sleep now. I will be done by the time you wake up again.”
“I'll hold you to that,” you mumbled as he watched you shift on the couch to get comfortable. Once your eyes were shut, he quietly returned to his desk and resumed working, occasionally glancing at your slumbering form.
He didn't quite know whether you were a distraction that kept him from finishing his work or more of a motivation to get it done as soon as possible. Perhaps you were both at the same time. With a silent sigh, he focused his attention back on the documents spread out in front of him, and the sound of a pen scratching on paper filled the room, sometimes interrupted by a soft rustling when he had finished a page.
Even as Lucifer worked diligently, he listened closely to your steady breaths, his heightened senses easily picking up on the faint noise. Whenever he heard the pattern of your breathing change just a little, he paused what he was doing to check on you, making sure you were alright and not waking up.
Eventually, he finally wrote the last words on a document, and to his relief, you were still fast asleep. He started putting everything aside, cleaning the desk as he always did once he completed his work. Despite his efforts to do so quietly, you stirred awake again, sitting up and rubbing your face tiredly.
“Are you done now?” you asked, voice heavy with sleep.
“I am,” he responded softly, smiling to himself at the sight of your weary form. “Shall we go to bed?” he suggested as he stood up, walking towards you, and offering you his hand to help you up. Lucifer observed your gaze briefly dart down to it, then back to his eyes, your lips pursed.
“What's the matter?” he inquired.
“Carry me,” you simply replied, looking at him expectantly.
Huffing in amusement, he shook his head with an indulgent smile. “Well, aren't you a demanding one?” Bending down, he moved one arm underneath your legs and the other around your waist, allowing you to loop your arms over his shoulders. With ease, he lifted you up, cradling you securely against his chest, and started carrying you.
“Maybe I am. But I know you wouldn't want it any other way,” you retorted lightly, pecking his cheek before nestling your face into the crook of his neck.
Glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, his lips quirked upwards. “I suppose you are right. And perhaps this is how I can make amends for letting you sleep on that uncomfortable couch. I do apologize for taking so long. Mammon’s… shenanigans have caused more paperwork than I had anticipated.”
Sighing heavily, he wondered what punishment would be appropriate this time, in spite of him knowing full well that even the harshest consequences could never discourage Mammon - or any of his younger brothers for that matter - from causing trouble. He could already feel a headache coming on.
His train of thought was disrupted by the sensation of you yawning against his skin, and he immediately felt the tension that had been building up inside of him melt away again.
“Tired, are we, my dear?” Lucifer asked, his voice low and amused as he gently squeezed you closer to him.
“It’s pretty late, so, yeah,” was your mumbled reply.
He hummed in agreement as he reached his bedroom and placed you on the mattress of his large bed, where you promptly crawled under the blanket and curled up.
“It is rather late, yes. Fortunately, there is no RAD tomorrow, so feel free to sleep in,” he said while unbuttoning his waistcoat to get more comfortable.
As he worked on the buttons, he could sense your eyes on him, your brow furrowed as if contemplating something. Before he could ask what was on your mind, you spoke up. “And you? Will you sleep in as well?” You glanced at him, the expression you wore telling him that you knew he would most likely give you a negative answer.
Not immediately replying and averting his gaze, he slowly opened the last button, taking the waistcoat off and folding it, before setting it aside. It was silent as he thought about the paperwork still waiting for him in his study and the additional work that would inevitably come during the day.
When he settled on the edge of the bed, he looked back at you, seeing the disappointment forming in your eyes.
“I will,” Lucifer finally answered, lying down next to you and joining you beneath the blanket.
At first, it was almost as if the words didn’t register in your mind, but then happiness bloomed on your face, and just the sight of you smiling like this already made up for the extra stress that he would have to deal with. You squeaked cheerfully and shifted closer, wrapping your arms around him. Chuckling in amusement, he returned the embrace and held you tightly against him. He nuzzled your hair, kissing the top of your head and tracing his hands along your spine.
Just this once, he thought to himself as he turned the light off with a flick of his hand, plunging the room into darkness, just this once will I allow myself this indulgence.
“I love you,” you whispered, your breaths tickling his neck as you made yourself comfortable next to him.
“And I love you,” he responded quietly, his voice laced with affection. He buried his face in your hair, and tightened his hold on you, drifting off to sleep with a smile on his lips.
cw: skipping meals due to stress, anxiety, insecurity, school-related fears, self-esteem issues
summary: In an attempt to prove yourself worthy to be amongst the demons you were living with, you ended up pushing yourself too far.
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!
Sometimes you wondered how you fit into the House of Lamentation, if you even belonged there in the first place. You were a mere human among demons, the seven Avatars of Sin, and no amount of pacts could hide that fact. Everything you did, they did better - and with less effort at that. Mammon's grades were as bad as yours, with the difference that you have been studying night after night for them. Meanwhile, he rarely ever picked up a textbook, if at all.
The final exams were approaching at a rapid pace and you were trying and failing to keep up with the curriculum. Following your return from RAD, you had cooped yourself up in your room and it must have been a few hours since then - Levi had called you for dinner a while ago, and you had declined. How late it was exactly, you couldn’t tell and couldn’t be bothered to check. But you knew that getting enough sleep tonight wouldn’t be possible, just like all the other nights before. With a groan, you leaned back in your chair, running a hand through your hair as you yawned.
Deciding to allow yourself a small break, you went into your adjacent bathroom, standing in front of the sink and splashing cold water on your cheeks. The droplets trailed down your skin and you looked into the mirror, examining your face with a heavy sigh. The dark circles beneath your eyes could almost rival Lucifer’s, and you were nearly as pale as Levi. Your features were beginning to look sunken in and you were barely able to remember the last time you had a proper meal - you were lucky everyone was too busy with their own things to really pay attention to you, otherwise someone would have already scolded or forced you to take better care of yourself. As much as you wanted to do that, you just couldn’t; you had to do as well as possibly could on the exams, well enough to prove yourself to them. Or perhaps more so to prove yourself to Lucifer, to make him proud of you and your efforts.
Feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks at the thought of him giving you one of his rare compliments, you shook your head. It was embarrassing how hard you've been trying to get his attention, his approval; your attempts, however, stayed unsuccessful - the best result you've managed to achieve was the absence of criticism and just the tiniest upward quirk of his lips and-
“Focus, dammit!” you hissed at your reflection, sprinkling some more water on your face to shake yourself out of your reverie.
Finally, you stepped away and made your way to the kitchen to at least eat something small. When you opened the fridge, you grimaced at the harsh light and the emptiness you found inside. You huffed in annoyance and grabbed a cup of yogurt and a spoon, leaning against the counter while you ate your second “meal” of the day in the dim lighting. The cup was quickly emptied and you threw the packaging into the trash before going back to your room. Despite knowing that you should be eating more, especially since your brain needed energy to work properly, you just couldn’t get yourself to actually do so. It was either because you lacked the time or because you simply weren’t hungry; you attributed the latter to the stress you've been putting on yourself.
With that, you returned and sat on your chair, determined to somehow get through these piles of papers and books in front of you. Before you knew it, more hours passed and it was soon past 2 a.m. The letters and numbers were blurred by now and you blinked hard, attempting to bring them back into focus. Setting down the pen, you rubbed at your eyes and, when that didn’t help either, you stood up. The moment you were on your feet again, the room spun around you. Cursing under your breath, you staggered to the bed, collapsing onto it rather than lying down. The light was still on and you were too tired to turn it off. Sleep came easily, although it was anything but restful.
At 6 a.m., the sound of an alarm pierced the air, and you wanted nothing more than to roll onto your side, to sleep off the pounding ache in your head. You clumsily reached for your D.D.D. and turned off the blaring noise, groaning at the overhead light that burned itself into your aching eyes. Without a doubt, you were looking even worse compared to yesterday - you certainly felt like it at least. You sat up and swung your legs over the edge, wincing at the increasing pain behind your temples but pointedly ignoring it as you walked into your bathroom with unsteady steps. While washing your face you caught a glimpse of your appearance and cringed. It would only be a matter of time, and someone would eventually notice how you were neglecting yourself.
Still, lying to anyone who asked about your eating habits had gotten surprisingly easy - you had either already eaten or were going to get something on the way to or from RAD. It made you feel bad, but you couldn't have anyone meddling in your life, not when you so desperately needed to do well on those exams. All you had to do was to focus, to ignore everything that wasn't important until it was over. It was only one week. Seven more days and you could return to how things were before. You would be fine, you knew it.
After getting dressed and gathering your school supplies, you placed them in your backpack and headed to the main entrance. On your way there, you glanced into the dining room, noting the absence of Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, and Belphegor. The ones that were present greeted you halfheartedly, being absorbed in either their D.D.D. or the food in front of them to pay you any attention. You left the House of Lamentation, walking to RAD with an open book in your hands, intent on getting more subject material into your overwhelmed mind before you inadvertently had to write one of the exams later.
The classes went by in a blur and you barely saw the brothers throughout the day, exactly like it has been for the majority of the past few weeks. Somehow, your condition managed to deteriorate with every class that passed, your head spinning and throbbing. Nothing made sense to you anymore and you were unable to focus. By the time you finally had to get to the class you had an exam in, you felt completely out of it and absolutely terrified - at this rate, you were going to fail. Hurrying to the classroom, you climbed the stairs towards the correct floor, taking two steps at once despite the lingering dizziness. They were winding and you were rounding a curve when you forcefully collided with someone. Shrieking in surprise, you lost your balance and began to fall backwards. It all seemed to happen so slowly yet so rapidly. A strong arm quickly snaked around your waist and you were drawn against something firm. Lucifer. You would recognize that outfit anywhere.
“Can you not watch where-” he started to reproach you, but the words died on his lips as you pulled away. His brow furrowed and he gave you a quick look-over.
“Sorry. Didn't mean to. I'm in a hurry, sorry,” you explained, your speech rushed and a little slurred, and you pushed past him to continue your ascent. However, you couldn't get much further because his hand reached out towards you again, this time grabbing you by the wrist.
“Where do you think you're going?” he asked, his tone calm and controlled. His hold on you was tight, although not painfully so, and you turned back to face him.
“To class, I have an exam,” was your simple reply, and you attempted to shake him off once more.
“Oh no, you're not going anywhere,” he responded sternly, not releasing you and instead firmly, yet carefully, guiding you down the stairs.
“What? But why? My exam!” you sputtered. “I apologized, no need to punish me!”
“Punish you?” He frowned, stopping momentarily before shaking his head and continuing downwards. “This isn't about punishment.”
“Then what-” you began, only to be cut off when an especially intense wave of dizziness washed over you, making you lose your footing. Catching you for a second time, he steadied you against his side.
“Alright. Enough of this,” he muttered, keeping hold of your waist while sliding the other one under your knees, hoisting you into the air. Your stomach swooped and you yelped, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Calm yourself,” Lucifer said tersely, holding your quivering frame securely. “I’ve got you.”
With a whimper, you pushed your face into the fabric of his suit to avoid seeing the stairs as he descended. The thought of being carried down the steps made you feel queasy and you anxiously held onto him tighter.
“I will not let you fall,” he stated, sounding mildly exasperated. “See? It's already over.”
And indeed, the harsher rocking motions of him descending had ceased, being replaced by the smooth swaying of him walking. You withdrew from him and looked up at his stoic expression. There was a small blush coloring your cheeks at the proximity and you quickly pressed yourself against him when red eyes glanced down at you.
“Are you not… putting me down again? I can walk by myself,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt.
“Yes, I saw how well you were able to walk down those stairs,” Lucifer retorted sarcastically and tightened his hold on you.
You only huffed and pouted, but that didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest. Soon enough, the main entrance opened and a cold breeze hit you, causing you to flinch, and you buried yourself further into his chest.
“Forgot your jacket somewhere, hm?” he concluded, setting you down carefully, making sure you were at least somewhat steady on your own feet before withdrawing his touch to take off his coat. With a confused look, you observed his actions, barely able to hold yourself upright, whether it was still due to your exhausted and weakened state or due to what almost felt like Lucifer fussing over you, you were not certain. Before you knew it, the warm and heavy fabric was wrapped tightly around your body, and then you were swiftly lifted back up.
“H-hey!” you protested. “You can't just give me your coat! What about you? Won’t you get cold?”
Lucifer's shoulders heaved with a deep sigh.
“You need not concern yourself with me, I will be fine,” he said and you could practically hear how he rolled his eyes.
It was silent aside from the sound of the gravel beneath his shoes as he carried you towards the House of Lamentation. When he stepped through the door, you expected him to set you down so you could go to your room. But instead, he walked up the stairs.
“What? That's- that's not the way to my room,” you exclaimed, shifting in his hold.
“That is correct, yes,” he replied easily, holding you securely and continuing his ascent, undeterred by your confusion. Maneuvering the door to his room open, he entered and placed on his large, pristine bed.
“I don't understand…” you muttered as you shrugged off his coat and made yourself more comfortable, leaning against the headboard.
With a furrowed brow, you watched Lucifer stride towards a cabinet and look through it.
“You will be staying with me for now. You are foolish if you believe that I will let you out of my sight anytime soon.”
Those words stunned you and you didn't know whether you should feel annoyed, intimidated, or flattered. Perhaps it was a mix between the three.
Finally, he found what he had been searching for, returning to your side with a small vial that contained a shimmery blue liquid and sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“I'm assuming you have not eaten a sufficient amount lately, am I correct?” he asked, his expression not giving much away as he uncorked the vial and held it out towards you.
“This will replenish your energy and hold you over for a bit,” he explained once you tentatively took it from him. “I want you to drink this and then sleep. After you've had some rest, I will make sure to prepare you a nourishing meal.”
“Do I really have to drink that?”
“I will not force you to, though I highly recommend you do; you will feel better afterwards. So be good for me and drink it, alright?” he spoke, smirking a little.
At that, your face flushed and you huffed, “D-don't talk to me like that!”
“My apologies,” he chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement, “but I simply can't resist making you blush. You do look rather endearing when you're flustered.”
You looked up defiantly, fixing him with a mild glare as you chugged the potion with a grimace. Lucifer quirked a brow and eyed you closely, a fond, barely there smile playing around his lips.
“That wasn't so hard now, was it?” He took the vial back and set it aside, leaning against his desk with crossed arms, watching you.
“It absolutely was,” you shuddered in disgust at the aftertaste. A pleasant warm feeling spread rapidly through your body and you did feel slightly better, albeit still terribly exhausted, and you couldn't help but yawn.
“What about you, though? Where will you sleep?” you questioned, sinking into the soft mattress nonetheless.
“My bed is more than big enough for two people,” he pointed out. “Plus, I do not typically sleep during the day. There is paperwork that needs to be done. However, I will not return to RAD today. I will take care of everything from my desk, to make sure you're actually doing as you're told.”
He gave you a stern look before walking to his table to busy himself with his work. Except for the scratching of his pen or the shuffling of paper and your steady breaths, it was silent while the time passed. Just when you were about to drift off, Lucifer began speaking in a hushed voice.
“Lord Diavolo, I'm afraid you will have to do without me for today, and tomorrow as well. I have some urgent matters at the House of Lamentation to attend to… It’s nothing for you to be concerned over, I will handle it… If something important comes up, you can of course-… Alright, yes, thank you for understanding…”
Listening to the call made you feel tense, hot shame flooding you. Lucifer, Diavolo’s right-hand man, won’t be able to do his job properly because of you. Because you were unable to keep up with the demands of the Devildom. The spoken words faded into the background as you burrowed yourself further into the mattress, willing yourself to disappear. You hadn’t even noticed that he had hung up until you felt a finger stroking your cheek, wiping away tears. When had you started crying?
“What’s the matter?” he asked quietly; the gentleness in his tone only making you want to hide more.
The mattress dipped and you opened your eyes, seeing him sit on the bed with a frown.
“You’re busy…” you muttered, averting your gaze and fiddling with the edge of the blanket.
“That I am, yes,” he replied slowly, tilting his head in confusion.
“… and I’m keeping you from your work…”
“I see. So that’s what this is about?” Lucifer questioned, his hand moving from your cheek to brush a strand of hair from your face.
Stubbornly avoiding eye contact, you stayed silent. With a heavy sigh, his touch disappeared and he shifted away from you, looking into the distance as if contemplating something. Before you could comprehend what was happening, he had already joined you beneath the covers, the heat of his body seeping into you as he gathered you in his arms.
“I assure you, Lord Diavolo will be able to handle everything without me for two days. Besides, you and your well-being are far more important than any paperwork or meetings with some nobles,” he whispered, pulling you towards his chest and tucking your head under his chin.
“But-” you began.
“No buts,” he cut you off, holding you closer. “I want you to sleep now.”
You wanted to protest, but the way you were nestled against him, enveloped in warmth and a sense of safety, made all your objections vanish into thin air.
“Fine…” you mumbled.
“Good. I will stay here with you until you fall asleep, alright?”
A tired hum was the only response he got from you and he chuckled affectionately, the sound vibrating against your cheek.
“Sleep well,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to your scalp and tracing small circles on your back.
It didn’t take you long to succumb to your exhaustion, and when you woke up a few hours later, you fully expected to be alone - instead, you were surprised to find Lucifer’s presence next to you, now also sleeping. Still in his embrace, you draped an arm across his waist as well, snuggling even closer. He stirred slightly and hummed, sleepily nuzzling your hair. With a smile, you nuzzled his neck in return and drifted off again.
Perhaps you were exactly where you belonged after all.
summary: When you sprain your ankle, Lucifer doesn't appreciate your attempt at hiding it.
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // based on this drawing by @sbmlamb // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!
There was no doubt in your mind that you must have been the clumsiest being in all three realms. Twisting your ankle because you simply tried to keep up with the long strides of a demon? How utterly embarrassing.
Gritting your teeth, you kept following the brother that was escorting you back to the House of Lamentation today - Satan. It seemed as though he hadn't noticed the way you were falling behind or your minor accident at all, being too engrossed in his rant about something Lucifer had done.
Despite the mixture of pain and numbness radiating up your lower leg, you managed to catch up with him, maintaining a mostly normal expression and a steady gait. Turning his head towards you, the anger drained from his features as he observed you. He took in your carefully masked suffering and how your shoulders were heaving with the effort it had required to get back to him.
“I'm sorry,” he said, slowing his pace and giving you a worried glance, “I hadn’t realized that I was too fast for you. Are you alright? It looks like you’re in pain.”
Cursing yourself internally, you racked your brain for a believable excuse.
“I… uhm… I just have a stitch in my side. No big deal,” you explained, shooting him a reassuring smile.
Satan nodded and visibly relaxed at your words, returning his attention to the path. From that point on, the walk back was spent in comfortable stillness with him occasionally glancing at you. When you reached the mansion and entered, you exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and waved goodbye, heading straight for your room as quickly as you could without putting too much weight on your foot while still walking normally. Finally inside your own space, you hobbled towards your bed, sitting down to take off your shoe and sock, which jostled your ankle, and caused you to hiss in agony. Once it was bare, your eyes widened at the sight of it swollen and bruised.
“Fuck…” you muttered and attempted to move it, which only made the pain worse.
Suddenly, there were knocks on your door, startling you.
“Oi! It’s your turn to make dinner!” called Mammon’s voice out from the other side. Right. Of course. You had completely forgotten about that.
“Give me a moment!” you yelled back and you heard him disappear again.
Sighing, you removed the second shoe too, and slipped into a pair that had a looser fit to reduce the pressure on your foot. Then you limped towards the doorway, biting your tongue to stifle the pained whimpers threatening to escape you, and opened it. Peering outside, you looked to your left and right, checking whether someone was around. Satisfied at not seeing anybody, you stepped out and silently shut the door behind you. Making your way to the kitchen, you put as little strain as possible on the ankle.
Aside from being embarrassed about your clumsiness, you also didn’t want them to worry about you or for them to start treating you as if you were a fragile thing. You weren’t. You really weren’t. You were a human and they were demons. Surely, you would be able to handle this just fine on your own, and wouldn't have to rely on one of the brothers.
It took you almost twice as long as usual to get to the kitchen, but once you did, you immediately started gathering all of the supplies you needed to prepare the meal. Still, you stayed vigilant, closely listening for any noises so you’d know when to stop limping.
What you hadn’t accounted for, however, was the practiced silence of Lucifer’s steps. You didn’t hear him arrive, rather, you felt his presence, the way his crimson gaze burned into your back. It made the hairs on your neck stand up and you whipped around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes narrowed and fixed on you.
“And what exactly,” he drawled, pushing himself off the frame to saunter towards you, “do you think you’re doing?”
“Cooking dinner…?” you replied hesitantly, although it sounded more like a question than an answer. His tall figure loomed over you, and you tried your best to maintain a casual position that kept your weight off your foot.
“Is that so?” he hummed thoughtfully, scrutinizing you. “What made you think that this was a good idea in your current state?”
“Huh? Come again?”
“You are hurt, are you not?” Lucifer’s voice was calm and collected, in contrast to the displeasure evident on his face.
“I’m not, I’m totally fi-” you began, only to be cut off by him saying your name sharply.
“Do not take me for a fool. Answer me. What made you think walking around with an injury was a good idea?”
“It’s my turn to cook dinner…” was your meek reply, and he simply sighed deeply.
“Seriously. You are incorrigible. I can’t believe you sometimes. Sit down. Now.”
Reluctantly, you obeyed him. He kneeled in front of you, reaching for your ankle, and pulled the shoe off with careful motions that betrayed the ire he was exuding.
“It’s just a bit twisted. I’m sure it’ll be fine by tomorrow, there’s no need to make a big deal out of this,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched your swollen and bruised foot become visible again.
“Twisted, you say?” Lucifer echoed, his gloved fingers delicately grasping your injured body part as he examined it. At first, it was painful, but soon a soft glow emanated from his hands, providing a cooling sensation that dulled the ache. “It is not twisted. You sprained it, if not worse.”
“Oh…” you responded quietly. “Well, that’s not good, I guess?”
“Not good…” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “That certainly is one way to say it. Especially considering that you have foolishly decided to keep straining it.”
Standing back up, he hooked one arm underneath your knees, wrapping the other around your back to lift you up. Your brain short-circuited for a moment as you were held against Lucifer’s chest. He was already halfway to your room when you managed to recover yourself and glanced up at his face to study his stern expression. Red eyes darted down to meet yours, and you flinched internally at the combination of anger and disappointment swirling in them, swiftly averting your gaze. Once he had entered, he placed you on the bed and made sure to elevate your ankle, then he turned to leave.
“Stay here and do not move. I will return soon,” he said gruffly, and with that, he was gone, leaving you alone. Defeated, you let your head sink into the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, the door handle was being pushed downwards, and heels clicked across the floor as Lucifer approached you, pulling up a chair to sit on.
“I will perform a quick diagnostic spell. It may cause an odd feeling, just bear with it for a minute,” he informed you matter-of-factly, and you gave an affirming hum, only briefly glancing at him to catch a glimpse of first-aid materials before looking away again. Mumbling some words under his breath, he grazed his fingertips over the swollen flesh, the leather of his gloves barely touching your skin. It was silent for a while and your foot prickled until he withdrew his touch.
“You are lucky. Nothing is broken, however, one of the ligaments is partially torn,” Lucifer explained plainly. “You will have to stay in bed and rest for at least a week.”
“A week?!” you exclaimed indignantly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “You can’t be serious! What about RAD? I have a presentation in two days!”
He huffed in annoyance and shot you a glare, taking out bandages.
“You have two options: either you will stay in bed voluntarily or I will have you tied to it. So, what shall it be, hm?”
Without offering a response, you sank back into the bed.
“Good. I’m glad you’re finally being reasonable,” he grumbled and started wrapping your ankle up carefully.
Turning your head away from him, you clenched your jaw tightly when the pain that he had dulled earlier with whatever spell he had used resurfaced temporarily. Lucifer heaved a faint sigh as he took note of your stubborn stillness and your tense posture. As soon as he was done, he put a cold compress on your ankle and sat on the bed next to you, the mattress sinking under his weight. He spoke your name; you didn’t respond.
“Come on now,” he whispered, his voice much gentler now, and he stroked a hand over your hair, “I am simply looking out for you, you know that, right? You are far too reckless with your health.”
“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, and pouted, but you turned your gaze back towards him, observing his softened expression as he hovered over you.
“Don’t deflect,” he chuckled, and cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I will make up for it, alright? I am going to keep you company. Does that sound agreeable to you?”
“Fine…” you breathed.
“That’s my good human,” Lucifer cooed, tilting your face up to brush his lips against yours. “Now, rest.”
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // based on this drawing I commissioned from @stulili // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!
“Come on now. Don't be shy,” Lucifer said, his hand stretched out towards you expectantly, a soft melody filling his bedroom. It was rather late in the evening and you had spent most of the day with him, taking advantage of the fact that he had taken a day off - for the first time in who knows how long; he was wearing those sweatpants you had gotten him once half as a joke, even if only in the privacy of his room.
“You know I can't dance and I don't want to step on you,” you rebuffed him, but he refused to be deterred by that.
“I am perfectly capable of leading you. Besides, I assure you that I can handle a few missteps here and there,” he pointed out while he watched you, his expression and posture relaxed. A satisfied smile tugged on the corners of his lips when you eventually relented, and he guided your palm up to press a kiss on your skin, causing your cheeks to heat up. He settled his free hand possessively on your waist, and you rested yours on his upper arm, keeping a small, yet comfortable distance. Both of your socked feet were moving silently, and your eyes were fixed on the wooden floor as you struggled to keep up and at the same time not step on him.
“My eyes are up here, dear,” he teased you after a few minutes of silence and slow movements - his were practiced and cadenced, yours were clumsy.
“Well, I don’t want to step on you”, you reiterated, feeling embarrassed by the obvious difference in skill between you and him.
“You won’t,” he reassured you softly, “at least try not to look down so much and relax, just exist in this moment and let go. You will do fine, I promise.”
You huffed quietly and kept staring at the ground, your brow furrowed with the effort of not misstepping. Without a warning, he snaked his arm around your waist until his palm came to rest on your lower back and he carefully, but assertively, pulled you closer to him. For a second, your already unpracticed steps faltered, though miraculously, you didn’t tread on his feet. Out of instinct, you wrapped an arm around his torso to steady yourself and he continued to guide you, unperturbed by your blunder.
“H-Hey!” you stammered. At that, he chuckled affectionately, thoroughly enjoying having caught you off guard. He nuzzled your hair with his nose, his breaths gently tickling the top of your head and you shuddered a little, goosebumps forming on your skin. Being pressed flush against Lucifer allowed you to feel the rise and fall of his chest, the familiar heat of his body seeping into you. With your ear resting right above his steadily beating heart, you finally let yourself relax a bit more and trust in him.
He led you a bit longer until gradually, he became slower, coming to a stop, and the two of you simply stood in the room, holding each other. Lucifer let go of your hand and cupped your cheek instead, tipping your face upward to meet his gaze.
“I love you,” he whispered into the small space between you, his garnet-red eyes brimming with warmth as he regarded you tenderly and you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach. No matter how many times you had heard these words from him, it still made your pulse race and your knees weak.
“And I love you,” you muttered in response, closing the remaining distance. When his warm lips met yours, he tightened his grip on you marginally, pressing you even closer as if he never wanted to let you go and you let him, melting into Lucifer’s all-encompassing embrace.
After a few moments you pulled away, needing to catch your breath, and he used the opportunity to press light kisses on the corner of your mouth, cheek and temple, making you giggle. He laughed faintly, placing his lips on your forehead, then he withdrew, taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles as well. The flush on your face grew more pronounced and you sheepishly averted your gaze.
“Now, now, none of that,” he murmured, tilting your head back towards him with a delicate grasp on your jaw. “There you go, that’s better.”
Lucifer looked at you, his eyes crinkling as he smiled fondly, pecking your heated cheek once again before pulling you with him to his bed. Lying on the mattress, he tugged on your hand until you laid down next to him, and almost like it was second nature to him, he wrapped his arms around you to draw your body closer to his. You nestled your face into the crook of his neck, the skin cool against your blush.
He hummed contentedly, tucking your head underneath his chin while he held you securely, tangling his legs with yours; there was no way you could move away, even if you wanted to.
genre: hurt/comfort (more hurt than comfort), angst, whump
cw: near death experience (please do tell me if there's something else that needs a cw!)
summary: Not everyone approves of Lord Diavolo's exchange program.
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!
There was a certain tension in the air during the banquet Lord Diavolo hosted to celebrate the beginning of the exchange program; while everyone smiled politely or at least held carefully neutral expressions on their faces, nothing could hide the blatant disdain in some of their eyes. You tried not to be affected by the stares burning into your back, but it was difficult. It had been a mere week since you’d been transported into the Devildom and you were still adjusting to the new environment. To say that you were struggling would have been an understatement - you were surrounded by immortal and potentially dangerous beings, constantly reminded of your fragility and insignificance in comparison to them. Living in the House of Lamentation with the Avatars of Sin wasn’t without stress either, you were always subjected to their eccentric behaviors and arguments.
An unexpected touch on your shoulder nearly made you yelp, and you bit your tongue to stifle the sound. Heart throbbing in your chest, you turned towards whoever had touched you and tentative relief washed over you when you recognized Asmodeus.
“You look ravishing, darling,” he cooed, linking his arm with yours, “well, not quite as ravishing as me, of course, but that’s to be expected.”
He gracefully led you to the tables, talking about how stunning your outfit was - he had picked it out himself - as he walked, while you stayed silent, too focused on not accidentally tripping over your own feet and embarrassing yourself in front of what was probably the majority of Devildom’s aristocracy. The guests were taking their assigned seats one by one and to your horror, you noticed Asmodeus was deliberately walking you to the seating places of Lucifer, Lord Diavolo, and the Purgatory Hall group - a single free spot was between the two demons.
“No, no no no, you can’t be serious,” you whispered to Asmo, hoping the people around you didn’t have such superior hearing that they would be able to make out your words. “They're all going to stare at me! They already are! Why don’t you sit there in my stead, you want to be in the spotlight, don’t you?”
The Avatar of Lust giggled and pulled the chair out, helping you get seated, then he leaned down to murmur into your ear, “As much as I would like that, you’re supposed to be the star of today’s evening, my dear.”
Giving you a wink, he withdrew and sauntered over to the opposite side of the long table, leaving you stuck amidst the prince and the eldest of the brothers. You could feel Lucifer’s critical gaze on you, however, you refused to look at him, opting to watch the attendees instead, being careful not to establish eye contact with anyone. After just a short moment, Lord Diavolo said your name cheerfully, redirecting your attention to him.
“Ah, I can’t wait to officially introduce you to everybody,” he beamed, and it took all of your willpower not to jump out of your seat and run out.
“Yeah… me neither…” you mumbled, shoulders sagging in defeat.
Lucifer cleared his throat, and you shifted your face towards him before he smoothly remarked, “I’m sure you will do perfectly fine and behave appropriately, won’t you?”
Swallowing hard, you promptly corrected your posture, sitting up straight again. His eyes were piercing through yours until you swiftly averted your gaze, this time letting it settle on the plate and cutlery in front of you. Someone from behind you poured an odd-looking liquid into your glass and you eyed it suspiciously. It didn’t look like any beverage you’ve ever had in your realm, so you assumed it was demonus. Nervously watching the others take their glasses, you decided to follow suit, grasping the fragile object with your shaking hands.
As you watched the cloudy white fluid sloshing around, a jarring, ominous feeling swept over you. Everything inside you screamed to put the drink aside, not to consume it, but you ignored your instinct, attributing it to you simply being hyper-vigilant and nervous. You bit the bullet and brought it to your lips, tilting it back and gulping it down in one go before placing it on the wooden surface. Embarrassment burned on your cheeks once you saw everybody was drinking theirs slowly. Even so, you were unable to dwell on that further once the flavor hit you and you barely managed to avoid grimacing; it was pleasantly sweet at first, though eventually there came a nauseating aftertaste burning in your throat. It made your eyes water and you rapidly blinked, trying to rid yourself of the tears. Out of nowhere, a terrifying thought popped into your head: what if your drink had been poisoned? As abruptly as this notion had crossed your mind, you quickly shook it off when, after a bit, the taste dissipated. Who would be so bold to try to poison you, the prized human exchange student, at an event hosted by Lord Diavolo himself while you were quite literally sitting next to him?
Exhaling a shaky breath, you focused on the prince beside you who started addressing the guests with a speech. You were unable to understand his words; a loud rushing in your ears drowned all the noises out and your pulse was thumping in your throat. Confused by the abrupt onset of physical symptoms of anxiety, you took slow, deep breaths, knowing it would be over sooner or later. You nodded slightly whenever it seemed appropriate based on Lord Diavolo's body language and whatever snippets of sentences you picked up on to look like you were listening. It took a while, but when he was finally done, he smiled at you and you reciprocated, even if you weren’t sure exactly how forced it looked. He stood up along with everyone else, the attendees gradually mingling with each other again. It was obvious what was going to happen now; he would begin introducing you to the various important people of this realm. Anxiously, you rose as well, a wave of heat coursing through your body as you did so, feeling your legs wobble under your weight and your heart rate spiking. Looking around yourself, you noticed that your vision was hazy, yet you could still feel demons staring at you and hear their snickering. Turning back towards Lord Diavolo who was standing in front of you, you attempted to make out what he was saying; your efforts, however, were fruitless.
“Fresh air”, you managed to choke out, “I’ll get some fresh air.”
With that you spun on your heel, leaving the hall and ignoring all the voices surrounding you that were increasing in volume, but remained abstruse and unintelligible to you. All of a sudden, a person blocked your path and you were able to hazily make out red eyes, narrowing dangerously at you. Disregarding their presence completely, you pushed past them, continuing your way out. By the time you were alone, in a quiet hallway, you were wondering how you had been able to walk at all, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. Still, you moved on, steadying yourself against the walls with one arm. The contrasting silence made you more aware of how noisy the whirring in your ears was, and how ragged your breathing had become as the heat in your body intensified. Head spinning, you stumbled through the hallways, having no idea where you were; you could have been in the castle’s dungeons for all you knew.
Despite the fog in your mind, you began to realize this was not anxiety; it had to be something entirely different. You faintly remembered the drink you had been served earlier - had it been just a few minutes since then or hours? Did someone actually poison you?
Before you could ponder on that question any further, pain exploded in your torso, making you clutch your chest and sending you falling to the ground. Unable to get up or even call for help, you could only clench your teeth while your breaths came in bursts, tears pooling in your eyes. The floor underneath you was blissfully cold as you ended up lying motionless on your side, almost paralyzed by the pain.
After some time, black dress shoes appeared in your view; their wearer quickly knelt next to you, and a gloved hand reached out towards you. When you let out a startled yelp, it temporarily paused in the air, then resumed its movements. The muddled shushing sounds did nothing to ease your fear, and the two fingers pressing against your neck didn’t either. Your pulse was pounding beneath the warm leather of the gloves and you could hear indistinct words, loosely resembling curses. The hand disappeared for a moment before it gently nudged your shoulder, coaxing you into rolling on your back. Someone was hovering over you, but all you could make out was the blurry silhouette of what you assumed must have been a demon. Whether they were here to finish their job or not, you did not know, and you were too weak to defend yourself.
Suddenly, the fingers - now bare - brushed over your face, the touch cool on your heated cheeks. Not able to stop yourself you whined, pushing up into the hand, not caring about the potential intentions they had. Soon, a second hand joined, mirroring the actions of the other, providing you with relief. However, it was short-lived; murmured, unfamiliar words that resonated with power filled your ears, and a strange pulling sensation emanated from the fingers on you. It was as if, somehow, it was reaching into your body, your soul, searching for something. You felt like your insides were being set on fire and it was trying to eat its way out of you, breaching through each and every cell. All you could do was cry out and sob, hot tears scorching your skin. The person wiped away the incessant tears, but they didn’t cease what they were doing, and you were certain that they truly were there to kill you.
Slowly, your vision became less blurred and you were able to make out a vaguely familiar face gazing down at you, red eyes that had glared at you with discontent previously were now a mix of concern and anger.
“… L-Lu… cifer…?” you managed to slur, tongue heavy in your mouth and pain clawing relentlessly at you. The demon you presumed to be Lucifer responded, but you were unable to comprehend even a single word.
“S-stop, please, please m-make it stop,” you pleaded with him while you were gasping for air. He held your gaze as you begged for mercy and the intensity in his demeanor seemed to subside. The grip on your cheeks softened and the overwhelming sensations eased. Your sight and hearing cleared further and eventually, you identified Lucifer to be the one kneeling by your side. Before you could say anything, however, a hand moved from your cheek to your brow, covering your eyes as well.
“Sleep,” was the first thing you were able to hear - and also the last, then you were plunged into darkness.
As you came to, you found yourself lying on a soft surface, slightly propped up, and a light fabric was draped over your body. Gradually, you regained awareness of your surroundings; you could feel the way your clothes were clinging to you, and just how drained you were. Some distance away, there were hushed voices, seemingly arguing with one another, and you could make out a couple of fragmented sentences from one person.
“… all due respect, my lord… warned you… you were naive to… the human… everything at risk… lucky that nothing…”
You blinked your eyes open, taking in the room blearily before your gaze landed on two people - a guilty-looking Lord Diavolo and an angry Lucifer. And as if the latter had a sixth sense, his head immediately snapped towards you and the argument ceased. The men promptly strode over to you, Lucifer sitting on the chair right next to the bed you were resting on, while Lord Diavolo stood in the background, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Lucifer's hand grazed over your forehead, brushing strands of hair that were sticking to the skin aside, feeling the lingering heat radiating off you. His fingers then went to your neck, checking your pulse once more. It was eerily silent as he attentively assessed your condition, and you felt awfully tired. Your body was aching; all you wanted was to return to blissful unconsciousness. But as soon as you closed your eyes, fingertips tapped insistently on your cheek until you opened them again with a groan.
“You must stay awake for now,” Lucifer asserted firmly. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”
“I'm alive,” you muttered hoarsely. He let out a long-suffering sigh at that while Lord Diavolo tensed up even more.
“Evidently, you are well enough to joke around. I suppose that is a good sign. Nevertheless - and I can not overemphasize this - you did nearly die. Consider yourself lucky that I found you when I did. A few minutes later and you would have succumbed to the poison.”
Reclining in the chair, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and fixed you with an appraising gaze. You attempted to sit up, but the pain shooting through you and Lucifer’s scowl made you lie back down. Finally, Lord Diavolo stepped closer to you and you observed his strained expression; you had never seen him like that before, and you almost felt bad about getting poisoned at his banquet.
“I’m terribly sorry that this has happened. Please accept my sincerest apologies and the assurance that nothing of this sort will ever occur again,” his voice sounded subdued and quiet.
“It’s not your fault, Lord Diavolo, you couldn’t have known.”
“He did know. I warned him that this could happen and yet, he refused to listen to me”, Lucifer huffed.
“Maybe because you always assume that the worst will happen, and then it never does. Well, this time it did, but-”
“I beg your pardon?” he halted your thoughtless retort with an indignant glare, making you shut up instantly. “As you should have noticed by now, not assuming that the worst could happen at all times is what will get you killed in the Devildom. I am merely trying to keep you alive, although you seem all but keen on seeking your death here with the amount of trouble you have managed to find yourself in since your arrival.”
Lucifer shook his head and sighed heavily before standing up.
“I have matters to attend to. Namely, finding the culprit”, he stated calmly as he walked towards the door. “Lord Diavolo, we will continue our conversation at a later time.”
With the Avatar of Pride out of the room, Lord Diavolo took the seat. His eyes were everywhere but on you while he was wringing his hands.
“Lord Dia-” you began, only to be interrupted by him.
“No. Please, just call me Diavolo,” he uttered, now looking at you. “I’ve put you in grievous danger because I believed no one would dare harm you on the castle’s premises. It was foolish of me to think that, and I must apologize for the distress I inadvertently caused you.”
“But you didn’t mean to, Diavolo. I’m not mad at you,” you explained and you tried sitting up again to be more at eye level with him. He quickly steadied you and helped you lean against the headboard. Pained whimpers bubbled in your throat and you clenched your jaw to suppress them as you shifted your position - you didn't want to make him feel even worse. However, it didn’t escape his notice and he sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of your upper arms. His touch was cautious, as if he was scared of hurting you further. The prince looked at you for a moment before he moved his hands to your shoulders, his thumbs lightly stroking over them in a comforting manner.
“Seeing you like that… unconscious, barely holding onto life while Lucifer brought you back from the brink…” Diavolo finally said, his voice cracking.“It made me realize how frail you truly are. And… that I wish to get to know you properly. I don’t want to waste any more precious time, not when a human’s life is so short and delicate. And I promise you, from now on I will do better in ensuring your safety.”
The serious look on Diavolo's face was dizzying, so you simply nodded slowly. Just as he was about to speak again, Barbatos entered, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea.
“Ah. I see you have regained consciousness. How are you feeling?” asked the butler.
“I'm doing alright,” you replied easily. Diavolo tightened his grip on you a little, almost imperceptibly so, no doubt having recognized your lie. Giving you a lenient smile, Barbatos set the tray on the nightstand next to you.
“You will be alright. Eventually,” he spoke, his words heavy with meaning, before bowing and exiting the room, leaving you alone with Diavolo. With his hands still resting comfortingly on your shoulders, he frowned as he watched his butler leave.
Not wanting to further aggravate the ache that was plaguing your body, you suppressed the urge to shake your head. 51 weeks left. You just had to make it through 51 more weeks.
summary: When you break under the pressure of keeping up with Devildom curriculum, an unlikely demon comes to your aid.
other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!
Too much. Too much. You couldn't breathe. The steady slamming of your fists against your thighs as you were sitting on the edge of your bed did nothing to help you feel grounded. You needed to rip yourself apart, break your body open or the anger would tear through the seams of your being, engulfing you in an inferno and burning you into cinder. Flames were raging in your body, licking at your soul, your heart, your lungs. You wanted to scream until your throat was raw, but you couldn’t make a sound other than ragged attempts at breathing and angry whimpers.
This was going to kill you, you knew it, you could feel yourself decaying in real-time, your head swimming, rushing in your ears and your lungs constricted as your body was slowly being consumed by the fire. Until, out of nowhere, the movement of your fists stilled. It took you a few seconds to realize that there were strong hands clad in black gloves keeping them in place despite your resistance against them. Gradually, the image of Lucifer kneeling in front of you registered in your dazed mind and you met his gaze.
His lips were moving, though you were unable to make out what he was saying amidst the utter chaos in your head, even the expression he was wearing on his face was entirely lost on you. However, you could feel his hands squeezing yours rhythmically in an unsuccessful attempt to ground you. He kept up the effort for a few moments, but eventually he carefully loosened the hold he had on you, only fully letting go once he was sure you wouldn’t continue hitting yourself. Then he left.
As soon as the door had closed behind him a sob tore through your throat and hot tears of shame started running down your cheeks, scorching your skin. You hid your face in your hands and cried, feeling yourself getting more upset than you already were. Of course he wouldn’t want to be around when you were acting like this, what were you expecting? In the five months you had known him he hadn’t been particularly caring or kind towards you - mostly keeping his interactions with you to a bare minimum, only making sure you wouldn’t die during your stay in the Devildom - so obviously he couldn’t be bothered to take care of a human having a pathetic mental breakdown.
You felt the blaze burning even stronger, your fingers quickly moving to your hair, yanking at it desperately, although that brought you no reprieve either. Suddenly the mattress dipped down right next to you and something cold was pressed on the nape of your neck. It was such an abrupt and stark contrast to the conflagration that was raging inside of you that you instinctively tried moving away from it, but an unyielding arm promptly held you in place, forcing you to let the cold seep through your skin and your body. Within a few seconds you became completely still, your hands dropping into your lap. Your lungs ached when they fully expanded again for the first time in what felt like an eternity as you took deep, shuddering breaths while the shock of the icy feeling worked its way through your insides, smothering the flames that had been consuming you. The rushing in your ears ceased and your vision became less blurry. Finally, you could hear yourself crying and the tension in your muscles slowly dissipated. The restraining arm that had been keeping you in place disappeared, but the cold thing on your nape remained.
There were no words spoken as your tears slowly came to a stop and your breathing slowed down, a feeling of exhaustion settling into your bones.
“Why?” you whispered, shifting slightly to face Lucifer without looking him in the eye.
“What exactly do you mean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he put his arm down, removing an ice pack from your neck.
“Why are you here? I don’t… I don’t understand. It’s not like I was in physical danger, you could have just… left me alone.”
“Because,” he replied after a few beats of silence, “Lord Diavolo has tasked me with taking care of your well-being, mental and physical alike.”
Your shoulders sagged at that and you turned away from him. Of course he was only doing this because of Lord Diavolo and not because he genuinely cared. How foolish of you, to think otherwise.
“Right…” you muttered, feeling your throat closing up, “you can go then. I’ll be fine, I can handle myself for now.”
Lucifer exhaled heavily as he contemplated his next words.
“I would rather not leave you alone at this time,” his voice was firm, making you scoff.
“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything that would put your oh-so-important exchange program in jeopardy. There’s no need for you to stick around any longer,” you spoke, hurt clearly audible in your voice despite your efforts to mask it with an indifferent tone. His eyes were fixed on you, studying your form for a few seconds before speaking once more.
“That’s not the only reason,” he replied with a sigh. You frowned and turned to him with an incredulous look in your eyes.
“Oh, so now you care?” you asked, voice brimming with bitterness. He let out a short chuckle, mouth twisting into a small, wry smile.
“Whether you believe it or not, watching you suffer brings me no pleasure,” he examined your bewildered expression with amusement for a bit, then his face grew serious again.
“I wish to help you through this, if you would let me. I want you to rely on me, to trust me with your pain,” he reached out an ungloved hand, thumb brushing gently across your cheek as you gaped at him in astonishment. “I will not leave your side, not unless you send me away.”
Lucifer’s gaze carried a small hint of concern and fondness, and you couldn’t remember ever seeing such emotions on his usually well-guarded face. You kept staring at him, not knowing what to say, but the touch of his hand felt nice and soothing and you couldn’t help wanting to accept his offer. With a stifled yawn you leaned into the contact and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy this moment of tenderness.
“You must be exhausted,” he said in a soft voice, “perhaps it would be best if you rested for some time. I will stay with you - if you are amenable.”
“That would be nice,” you muttered, fatigue taking hold of you. His hand disappeared from your cheek and you opened your eyes again, watching him take off his shoes and coat and lie down on the bed. You followed suit and let your weary body sink into the mattress, keeping a respectful distance from him. Some time later you felt him gently stroking your hair, the touch a steady reminder of his presence.
While you tried to relax and fall asleep, remnants of your emotions caught up with you and your body began shaking, a lump forming in your throat. You didn’t want to cry again, you were so tired of it. But Lucifer, perceptive as ever, paused his movements and you could hear him coming closer to you. His arm moved underneath your neck, holding your shoulder and pulling you towards him. Soon enough your head was lying on his chest and his other arm was resting on your waist. The carefulness of his hold only served to make you feel more raw on the inside, a whimper escaping your mouth against your will as tears started cascading down your cheeks, soaking through the fabric of his clothes. Lucifer remained quiet, tracing patterns on your skin with his fingers as your body shook with sobs and you clung to him, seeking comfort in his steadfast embrace until you calmed down.
It was completely silent aside from his steady breathing and your occasional sniffles and hiccups. He kept caressing your body and eventually you drifted off to sleep.
When you began waking up the following morning you were still too groggy to comprehend your surroundings, though you felt safe and warm and you would have stayed that way forever, but then a deep voice cut through the serenity.
“Did you sleep well?”
Startled, your eyes shot open and the first thing you saw was Lucifer’s face a few inches away from yours as the memories of last night came flooding back.
“You really stayed,” you muttered, genuine surprise in your voice.
“Of course I did, I always stay true to my word,” he easily replied, running a hand through his disheveled hair. You were still wrapped up in his arms, marvelling at the unguarded look on his face. Before you knew it you moved a hand to cup his cheek, fully expecting him to withdraw or get annoyed, but to your amazement he didn't. Instead, he stayed still and gazed at you with a look in his eyes you couldn't identify. It almost mesmerized you; however, you shook yourself out of your reverie and sat up with a heavy sigh. Lucifer kept looking at you, but you stared at your hands that were laying in your lap.
It was silent for a bit as you thought about last night, a grave feeling washing over you the more you ruminated.
“You can go now,” you mumbled, eyes flicking up to look Lucifer in the face.
“Excuse me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You don’t have to hang around any longer; you did your duty,” you said, a tinge of sadness in your tone.
”Why would I not?”
“Why would you want to stay? Just because you don't enjoy seeing me suffer? Please. I appreciate what you did last night, I really do, but you can now stop pretending that you give a shit.”
“I’m not pre-” he started saying while he sat up, only to be cut off by you.
“Yes, of course you are. I mean- what even am I compared to you? I'm… I’m nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm weak, there's nothing special about me. I'm just a human,” you kept ranting.
“Don't-”
“And compared to most other humans I'm still pathetic and weak. I freaked out like this over stupid homework. Over homework! And it wasn't even the first time and it won't be the last time either,” you didn't know what you were saying anymore, the words kept coming as you worked yourself into a frenzy, your shoulders heaving as you were breathing heavily.
“Stop-” he tried again to no avail, sounding exasperated.
“I am nothing but a burden and a risk to the program. I shouldn't- I shouldn’t be here! You picked the worst fucking human in existence for this- this important project and now you have to worry about me ruining everything! Why else would you even bother with-”
Out of nowhere your face was grabbed by Lucifer's hands and his lips met yours. He soon pulled away again, looking at you with narrowed eyes.
“I will not have you talking about yourself in such a degrading manner”, he warned you, an angry edge to his voice, “none of what you said is even remotely true and I refuse to stand by idly and let you say such things.”
The kiss and his words stunned you into silence. Your mind was racing, and you didn’t know what to say or what to think.
“Listen to me very closely”, he spoke in a low and commanding tone, his hands still framing your face tightly, “do you truly think I would spend my valuable time with you like this if I only cared about the program?”
“I- I don't know? Probably not…?” you questioned. The weight of his words and actions was slowly beginning to sink in and the doubts in your mind began to dim.
“Precisely. There are no ulterior motives; I have nothing to gain from such actions. I did what I did because I wanted to, that’s all there is to it. Do you understand?”
“I- I think so, yes,” you muttered, the hands holding your face loosening their grasp ever so slowly.
“From now on, I want you to reach out to me any time you begin to feel overwhelmed in this manner. I will not allow you to deal with this by yourself again, am I making myself clear?”
“Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want, then I guess I can do that,” came your not entirely truthful reply as you turned your head away from him to avoid his piercing stare. He sighed and shifted your face back towards him.
“I mean it”, Lucifer emphasized, his voice and expression softer now, “let me be there for you.”
More and more of your doubts were disappearing by the minute, the way he was looking at you made you believe in his sincerity.
“Okay, I will contact you when this happens again, I promise. But… I need to know what changed. Why are you suddenly being so nice to me? And why did you… kiss me?”
For a few seconds, his eyes flickered away, avoiding yours, but he quickly recovered.
“Why? Because I wanted to. I wanted to ease your pain, and I wanted to kiss you,” he answered casually, moving his hand to your chin and brushing a thumb over your lips.
“You can’t kiss someone simply because you want to,” you stated indignantly, face blushing furiously.
“Why not? Are you telling me you did not like it?” Lucifer asked, a smug smile on his face.
“I-It’s not about that!” you exclaimed.
“Ah, but I don’t hear you denying it either.”
“I don’t- I don’t want to be kissed on just a whim,” you huffed.
“I never do anything on ‘just a whim’. You are worth more than that,” his teasing smile became tender as he said that and he moved closer. You felt your pulse beginning to race, pounding in your chest as if it was trying to break out of your ribcage. The emotions that were swirling inside you were overwhelming; there was confusion and irritation, but you also had butterflies in your stomach that were fluttering around wildly, making you feel incredibly flushed.
“W-what are you doing?” you whispered nervously, feeling his breath on your skin.
“Merely showing you how much I meant it, if I may?”
Everything around you felt fuzzy and almost unreal, but you managed to nod. He closed the gap between the two of you, his lips pressing lightly against yours. Compared to the earlier kiss, this one felt much more deliberate and gentle, less of a demand and closer to a request instead. His hand was on the back of your head, fingers stroking through your hair. As you were starting to get entirely lost in the sensation, Lucifer pulled away, leaving you dazed and breathless. He removed his hands from your face and gave you a little bit of space while you tried to regain your composure.
There was a genuine, pleased smile on his face when he was looking at you and it only made you blush harder. Your heart was still beating way too fast, and the whirlwind of emotions inside of you wasn’t letting up either. All you could do was stare at him in disbelief.
“Do you see my point now?” Lucifer asked with a soft chuckle, watching your baffled expression with a mix of amusement and affection. You nodded. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear there was the tiniest amount of pink tinting his cheeks.
“Good,” he said, his demeanor growing serious again, “then I believe it would be best if we talked about last night.”
“Ah… is that really necessary?” you muttered in disappointment.
“I understand that this might be uncomfortable for you, but in order for me to be able to help you, to be there for you, I need to know more.”
Sighing deeply you took a few measured breaths, trying to suppress the anxiety that was now taking hold of you once more. You leaned against the headboard, looking away and gathering yourself for a few moments.
“My grades have been falling short of my expectations and I’m having a hard time understanding the topics in class. I- the homework has gotten increasingly harder and I just- I understand less and less with each class I attend,” you explained, your voice quivering slightly, “I thought it would get easier with time, that I’d be able to comprehend everything, o-or at least more, but no. It’s only getting worse and I- I feel so frustrated and angry. And when I was doing homework last night, I guess I just- I just snapped. I’ve been struggling with other homework and assignments since I got here, but it hasn’t been this bad in- in a while.”
Closing your eyes you took more deliberate breaths to try and calm the emotions bubbling in your chest. You heard Lucifer move, his body settling next to you as he put a comforting hand over yours.
“I-it’s always been like that, I guess. I get overwhelmed with something and I-I freak out, I don’t even know why. It’s stupid and embarrassing,” you finished off your explanation quietly, trying to resist the urge to deprecate yourself further because you knew it would only make him upset again.
“How often does this happen?” he questioned, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand.
“Oh… uhm, not that often, I guess?” You gave back anxiously.
“How often?” he pressed again.
“Ever since I got here maybe… ten times?”
“So, twice a month?”
You opened your eyes and carefully looked at him, taking in his frown before shaking your head, causing him to narrow his eyes.
“No… in the first four months it only happened three times overall, but this month has been… difficult,” you explained with an uneasy laugh.
“Seven times? This month alone?” he concluded, clearly taken aback.
“Well… maybe? I don’t know for sure, I haven’t exactly kept count.”
“So you’re saying it could have been more than ten times?”
“It could have also been less!” you protested weakly, knowing very well that Lucifer was right in his assumption. One incredulous look from him was enough for you to deflate and sigh heavily.
“Did you have any intentions of ever telling anyone? Or would you have kept on suffering alone had I not found you by pure chance?” he finally asked after a while, his voice stern with a hint of concern.
The way you remained silent, avoiding his gaze, told him all he needed to know. He cursed under his breath, a hand ruffling through his hair. Just when you were about to apologize, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest and holding you in a firm embrace. You let your head rest against him and lazily draped your arm across his waist before you spoke again.
“Being a human here is… difficult, Lucifer. I already feel so vulnerable and the thought of telling this to someone, to a being that is so much more powerful, so much older than I am, is mortifying. I was- I still am scared that something like this will only make you see how weak I actually am.”
He raised a hand to your face, caressing your cheek in a soothing manner.
“I don't consider you weak - quite the opposite, in fact. Bearing the burden of being an exchange student in a foreign place, surrounded by demons, would be a difficult matter for any human. However, it is foolish to carry this weight alone, and if I have a say in it, you never will again,” he assured you, tightening his hold around you, “we can come together however often it is necessary and go over your assignments; I will make sure you understand everything. In turn, I expect you to come to me whenever there is something troubling you.”
“I will, I promise,” you said earnestly. Lucifer hummed appreciatively and you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, until the alarm of your phone nearly made you jump out of your skin.
“Fuck, I have to get ready,” you mumbled as you untangled yourself from his hold and stood up.
“No need.”
“Huh?” You stopped dead in your tracks, staring at him in confusion.
“I will excuse you from today’s classes,” he explained casually while getting up himself, “and I will tell my brothers to leave you alone, so that you may focus on resting instead. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call me.”
“Thank you for letting me skip RAD, but… I can’t just call you. I know how busy you are, and I don’t want to bother you when you have so little time already.”
“Don’t argue with me on this, I will make time for you. And now, rest. We will talk more in depth later.”
“Okay,” you conceded, watching him leave, “and Lucifer?” He stopped in front of the door and turned around, examining you expectantly.
“Thank you. Really.”
“You are welcome,” he gave you a soft smile and a nod, then he left.
With a content sigh you laid back down and closed your eyes, quickly falling asleep again.
