Hi there! For the two-part drabble, may I request Deckerstar in situation 13 (someone does something stupid) with sentence 6 ("Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.") Thank you, and I've really really been enjoying your the updates on your Planning a Hell of a Wedding fic!
Hey! It took me two months (including more than one month of writing) but I've now finally finished your prompt. Another anon had requested 25 (being somewhere you're not supposed to) + 6 and dear @my-crazy-awesome-sox had requested 26 (a very cheesy date) + 6, so I've merged all your prompts into one 7K+ long 'drabble'. Hope you don't mind!
And I'm glad you like the updates on PHW! I'll try to write some more now that I've finished this.
Hope you like this!
Also, an immense special thanks to @my-crazy-awesome-sox for helping me with this fic. She truly has been a godsend, and a lot of the wording (especially in the later parts) is kindly and almost directly borrowed from her mind. Thank you again, babe!
Also thanks to @lightbringer-666 for assisting me with some French. If all the French isn't perfect, it's because I also googled my way to a lot of it. Apologies in advance (and please do let me know if there's anything I should change!)
Someone does something stupid + being somehwere you're not supposed to + a very cheesy date + 'Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.'
Rated M. Post 5B - contains spoilers!
Read on AO3 (includes list with English translations)
It’s ridiculous, really. The butterflies fluttering in her stomach like she’s a schoolgirl waiting for her prom date. It’s not even their first date. It’s not even their second. The thing is, between becoming God and Consultant, revising a few laws of the cosmos, fixing some bugs in humanity, bringing Dan to Heaven, and going to therapy, she and Lucifer haven’t had much time for, well, each other. At least not in ways that didn’t involve discussions about the redesign of the afterworld and how to sate world hunger. So yes, she is a little giddy with excitement at the thought of having a whole evening to themselves—no celestial craziness. Just the two of them and a bottle of the restaurant’s finest.
If Lucifer would just show up.
She checks her phone. 06:14. Unlike last time she anxiously waited for him in a restaurant, there’s a text.
Running a bit late. Please forgive me. Can’t wait to see you ❤
And one more.
Sorry. Can’t wait to see you naked*
Chloe shakes her head, a stupid smile spreading across her face. She resists typing back a flirty reply—he’ll be with her in a minute, and she is nota schoolgirl—and puts her phone back in her clutch. Hands trembling a little, she smooths out invisible creases in the dress he’s bought her. It’s short and tight, of course, but perfectly so. Reaching mid-thigh, with a small slit revealing a bit more of her left thigh. Black, unsurprisingly; he still hasn’t gotten over how delectable she looked in the LBD she wore on their last ‘date’. And this one makes her legs look even longer, which is undoubtedly the primary reason Lucifer picked it. Still, it isn’t skimpy. He could have opted for a deep neckline and cold shoulders—she almost expected him to when he said he’d bought her a dress—but he didn’t. Instead, the short and skin-tight skirt is perfectly balanced with a high neck and long bell sleeves that are cut open just above her joints, making the soft fabric flow around her bare underarms. She likes it—would probably have bought it herself if it weren’t crazy expensive. Likes how it makes her feel both sexy and classy and most of all comfortable, likes that he knows her so well.
She fidgets with her earring and traces the rim of her empty wine glass with her fingertip, watching people as much as she can from their semi-private corner. She spots an Oscar-winning film director, a retired NFL player, that pop star Lucifer pretends to hate, and just how expensive isthis place?
She’s immediately distracted by the shift in the air and the sound of Italian loafers approaching her.
‘My me, Detective!’
His brown eyes roam her figure as she stands to kiss him. Their lips meet in a soft peck that could easily have turned into more if Lucifer hadn’t pulled away to look her up and down.
‘You look like a goddess.’
Chloe snorts and chuckles, not yet used to the title he insists is hers if she’ll have it. She puts a hand on his chest, gazing up at him with a smile.
‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’
He hums and leans in for another kiss, but something comes between them this time. They both look down—at a dozen red roses.
‘Those for me?’ she asks, warmth spreading in her chest.
Lucifer hands her the bouquet with a nod and that soft smile she loves more than anything. He pulls out her chair, a gentle hand on her shoulder as she sits down, and sits down himself.
There’s a card nestled between the velvet petals: ‘For the Detective & Consultant’, her old and new moniker scribbled side by side in his annoyingly elegant handwriting. The latter nickname, however, is written in smaller, cramped letters—an afterthought. She smiles.
She turns the card, expecting to find a dirty, eye-roll-deserving comment on the back. But there’s no lewd joke or naughty promise.
It simply says, ‘I love you.’
Her heart swells, filling her chest till it aches. It’s all so new still. Not the love between them, but how it’s uninhibited now. It’s not like they don’t have their obstacles—just yesterday they had a fight—but there’s no doubt anymore, no voices telling them some dreams simply cannot be. They might have a whole universe to deal with, but for the first time ever, things between them are easy. No words are left unsaid. No feelings are squashed. No time is wasted. Every day is spent wrapped in each other’s love. Finally.
‘I love you too,’ she tells him, and he lights up, amazed. Confident. Their hands find each other on the table, fingers intertwining.
A waiter comes by with two menu cards and a vase for the flowers. Chloe reads through the menu carefully, pretending to know what kind of food hides behind the fancy French names. Lucifer sees right through her, sighs, and orders some hors d’œuvres, two of something she couldn’t pronounce if she tried, and a bottle of red.
‘So, were you stuck in traffic, or…?’ Chloe asks him with a glint in her eye as the waiter pours her a generous glass of wine. The celestial being with the supernatural metabolism can drive home.
The being in question looks confused for a moment before he answers, ‘Ah, no. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ For a brief second, he looks at her as if he’s apologising for more than tonight, but she strokes his knuckles and smiles at him, you’re here now, and he moves on to explain himself. ‘I just couldn’t find this bloody suit. Only when I’d ransacked the house did I realise it was still at the penthouse, so I had to make a detour.’
He is a little excused; so many things are impossible to find right now, with more or less unpacked boxes spread out between her apartment, Lux, and their new home. In hindsight, moving in together while taking over the almighty family business probably wasn’t the best idea, but they’ll get settled soon enough. Besides, right now, what’s important is that Lucifer was late because of a wardrobe crisis, and she will not let that slide.
‘You couldn’t just wear one of your three hundred other suits?’
A flicker of hurt and sheepishness flashes across Lucifer’s face.
‘Well, this one is special.’
Chloe takes in his suit: the navy jacket, the matching waistcoat, the royal blue shirt.
‘Oh.’
He smirks at her as heat creeps up her cheeks (so much for not being a schoolgirl).
‘You remember?’
She does. Of course, she does. She remembers vividly—how shocked he’d been at first, how new and soft his lips had felt against hers. How they’d held onto each other until the sun was setting and she really did have to go home and feed Maze and Trixie.
She also remembers how she, later, behind closed lids, had ripped off the shirt and waistcoat in desperate need. How it’d earned her a husky chuckle and a breathy ‘D’tective!’, and the sinful Heaven that was his hot and open mouth.
‘You okay, darling?’ Lucifer looks at her, his expression somewhere between concerned and amused. His thumb brushes the back of her hand.
Chloe takes a sip of wine and clears her throat. Adjusts her necklace.
‘Yeah, just, you know. Reminiscing.’
He studies her flushed face for a second before his curious smile spreads into a full-blown Cheshire grin.
‘You had a wet dream about me, didn’t you?! After our first kiss?’
Chloe glares at him. ‘Say it a little louder for the people in the back, will ya?’ He opens his mouth, and she immediately feels the need to clarify, ‘Do not say it a little louder for the people in the back.’
His smile doesn’t falter. ‘I’m just ecstatic to know our first kiss left you all hot and bothered. I mean, not that I’m surprised.’ He brings his wine glass to his lips and lets go of her hand to gesture down himself.
Chloe rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, like you didn’t go home and wanked yourself blind that night.’
He laughs, surprised by her bluntness, and shamelessly answers, ‘Why, of course I did. That night, other nights. Before and after that kiss. This morning. You serve as quite the spank bank, my dear.’
She definitely doesn’t blush at that. But she does glance down at his waistcoat, at the soft skin and hard muscles she knows hide beneath it. She gives him a slow and dirty smirk, appreciative.
‘You too, baby.’
Lucifer raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening. Much to Chloe’s satisfaction, his neck and cheeks redden a little. Then he gives her a lopsided grin, smug and impressed.
‘Pray tell, Detective.’ His eyes glide down her face, her chest, her stomach, and slowly back up again.
In another time, she would have given him a stern look and told him it was none of his business, but she doesn’t. She also doesn’t tell him about lonely nights and long showers and crying his name into her pillow when they were still just friends. Instead, she leans across the table and half-whispers—
‘If you behave yourself tonight, I might show you.’
He gulps. Squirms a little in his seat, and—when he’s regained his composure and quite indiscreetly adjusted himself under the table—leans forward till there’s only mere inches between their faces.
‘Is that a promise?’ His voice is low and husky, his breath hot against her face. His eyes drop to her lips.
‘Pardon, monsieur, mais l’entrée est prête.’
They lean back in their seats and turn to the poor, young waiter, who’s balancing two seemingly heavy plates, a carafe of water, and a basket of crusty bread in his arms.
‘Lovely!’ Lucifer’s eyes follow the food as the waiter puts it down in front of them. ‘Merci beaucoup, Olivier.’
Olivier smiles at Lucifer, shy but with a look in his eyes Chloe knows all too well. She doesn’t blame him.
‘Ça va?’ Lucifer asks, his voice lined with genuine fondness.
Olivier nods. ‘Oui, ça va. Et toi?’
Lucifer looks to Chloe, beaming. He takes her hand on the table and interlocks their fingers again.
‘Tout va très bien,’ he answers, looking back up at Olivier with a dazzling smile.
Olivier’s eyes drop to their hands and, probably, to the ring, white and pearlescent, on Chloe’s third finger. His lips tug up at the corner.
‘Je peux voir ça. Félicitations!’ Before Lucifer can respond to that, whatever it means, Olivier gestures towards their food. ‘Et bon appétit.’
Lucifer replies with a friendly ‘merci’ and calls out something like ‘Salue ton père de ma part!’ as Olivier walks off.
Chloe stares at Lucifer, twirling the smashed bullet around her neck between her fingers.
‘What?’ he asks, curious.
She tilts her head, smiling. ‘French suits you.’
He smiles back, lasciviously. ‘Yeah?’
‘Mm-hm.’
The look he gives her leaves no doubt that, sooner or later, he’ll be whispering foreign phrases against her skin.
But right now, they have other appetites to sate. They dig into the first course, and the (assumedly) insanely high prices suddenly make sense, because it is frigging good. The main course is even more delicious—divine, actually, to the point where Chloe has to ask Lucifer if he accidentally spiked the food with a blessing or two. He assures her it’s all Olivier’s father, no holiness involved, apart from Chef Beaumont’s heavenly cœeur de filet de bœuf. Chloe moans in agreement, savouring every bite.
He watches her with a smile, jokingly apologising for not serving her grilled cheese, and she makes a bad joke about this date being cheesy enough as it is. Because it is cheesy. Him buying her a dress, bringing her red roses, the love note, the candlelit restaurant, the French food, not to mention the suit. It’s like a rom-com parody.
But it’s also perfect. It’s everything she’s longed for, an over-the-top romantic date night with her- with her partner. A date that isn’t cut short by a horny stewardess (may she rest in peace) or a failed attempt at exorcism; where Lucifer actually shows up and isn’t just trying to outdo another man; where Chloe isn’t trying to make him ‘do something good for a change’; and their parents aren’t tagging along on a headache-inducing surprise double date that is also a sting in disguise.
So, in some ways, it is kinda their first date.
And it’s a really, really nice date.
They laugh—they laugh so much. More than they’ve done in the past few months combined. Or so it feels, at least.
They laugh, and they talk. About movies they cried to, favourite drinks, and how they’re gonna paint the living room. About the summers spent under the plum tree in Nana’s garden, and all the pranks pulled in the gilded meadows of Heaven. About chasing Amenadiel through the clouds, and how Chloe always wanted a sibling. About her short-lived Hollywood experience and that one time she may have gotten a little high at a Backstreet Boys concert. (He seems impressed by that, her ‘abhorrent’ taste in music aside.) They exchange secrets they never told anyone, stories of bad kisses—Jed used too much tongue; Will was always better with words—and tales from drunken nights out. They reminisce on the first time they met—how annoying she’d found him, how compelling he’d found her—and the many, many cases, some really weird, that first encounter led to.
They talk about Dan.
About missing him, even though he’s making waffles with Charlotte now.
About Trixie, and how therapy seems to be helping her, too. How she still sometimes breaks down crying, but no longer crawls into their bed in the middle of the night, shaking and gasping for air. How she’d laughed the other day, and it’d made them both cry. How incredibly strong she is, that little urchin.
They talk about going to Paris one day, all three of them—the French do make excellent chocolate cakes—or maybe somewhere else she wants to see, once everything is calmer. They talk about some of the prayers Lucifer has been hearing, about faith and free will, what they miss about solving crimes together, what they don’t miss, and how they’re still very much partners, even more so now—in every corner of life.
They talk till their cheeks hurt from smiling and Chloe’s half-drunk on expensive Burgundy. Lucifer asks for the cheque, their food long gone, and pays with cash, making sure to leave a tip possibly the size of Olivier’s monthly salary.
They leave the restaurant giggling about a stupid joke Lucifer makes, his hand splayed out on the small of her back. Her own hand is placed much lower than what is decent for such a fancy place like this, practically cupping his ass, but she’s tipsy enough not to care, and he doesn’t seem to mind the attention. It’s his own fault, anyway, for having his pants tailored to hug his butt like this.
Naturally, Lucifer drives. He doesn’t hold back his comments on how slow and boring her car is, but at least he stays somewhere close to the speed limit. She wishes he’d also wear a seatbelt, and keep both hands on the wheel, but his palm is nice and warm on her thigh, and she trusts he’ll get them home safely. She leans back in her seat, her head comfortably buzzing from wine and him, and watches the blurry city lights through the window. He’s turned down 2ndStreet.
‘Where are we going?’ She looks over at him, curious.
He smiles in the shadows, his fingers stroking the skin left exposed by the slit in her dress. His touch leaves hot, tingling paths on her thigh.
‘I thought we’d go for a second desert.’
Chloe is beyond full, her dress stretched over her now slightly rounder belly, and she can think of other things she’d rather do (things that include pinning Lucifer to their bed and making him groan and beg and laugh), but she’ll never say no to a freshly brewed latte and watching Lucifer obscenely enjoy some Sicilian pastry.
She turns up the radio, fumbling a bit, and closes her eyes with a smile, more content than she’s been in… a long time. His hand stays on her thigh as they move through the night, fingers tapping to the beat of the songs against her skin, creeping higher, teasing, just enough to make her breath hitch, but nothing more, and then back down again. Maybe they’ll just take that latte to-go.
The car comes to a final halt, and first then does Chloe realise they haven’t stopped outside the late-night café and bakery that’s opened down on Spring Street.
‘Lucifer, what’—she looks around, double-checking—‘what are we doing at the back entrance to the precinct? You said we were getting desert.’
He leans across the centre console, fingers spreading on her thigh, and brings their faces so close their noses touch. Chloe swallows.
‘We are,’ he assures her with a wolfish grin, his gaze lingering hungrily on her, and she could jump him right then and there. But he takes his hand off her body and clicks her seatbelt free, pulls the key out of the ignition and exits the car. He strides to her side and opens the door for her, gentlemanly as ever, and she watches him with narrowed eyes as she takes his hand and steps out, sceptical even in her cloud of lust and inebriation.
He heads directly for the back entrance and opens the black iron door with ease, rudely ignoring the state-of-the-art security locks. A part of her knows she should stop him right there and give him a stern talking-to about respecting human laws—he still can’t do whatever the hell he likes just because he’s God now. But another part, the part of her who helped him empty two bottles of French wine, really wants to step over that threshold, to intertwine their fingers and go on a late-night adventure. And that part of her must overpower the other, because she lets him snake his arm around her waist and lead her through the door and inside the familiar building.
She senses him grinning by her side, his fingers curling around her hip in a deliciously tight grip that only stokes the heat pooling low in her belly. He takes her down the corridor, around the corner, and then they’re there, in the middle of the precinct. Everything is covered in darkness, the wide, open space only illuminated by a never-resting info screen and the purplish glow from the vending machine. Still, she can make out the shape of their desk, the door to Ella’s lab, the interrogation room. The fridge in the breakroom still hums obnoxiously, and the air smells like strong coffee and sugary glaze—or maybe that’s just a phantom. Either way, it all tugs at her heart, beckons her down memory lane, and she lets herself be pulled. Through the good, the bad, and the crazy.
Lucifer is quiet beside her, probably lost in nostalgia himself, or maybe just letting her have this moment. But not for long. With titillating eagerness and a devilish smirk, he wraps his fingers around her wrist and pulls her by the hand—towards the evidence closet.
He presses her up against the door, his body hot and hard against hers, and pins her hand against the cold glass of the frosted window. His dark eyes sparkle with mischievous excitement.
‘There’s something we never got to try.’
Her pulse quickens, blood humming loud and hot.
‘Lucifer, we can’t.’ She tries to sound firm around her suddenly heavy breaths and dry throat, but he doesn’t seem discouraged in the least.
He leans in, closer, his smirking lips brush against her ear. ‘Can’t we, now?’
And as if he hadn’t done enough already, he takes her earlobe between his teeth and bites it.
Chloe smothers a gasp.
‘We shouldn’t.’ She puts her hand on his chest and pushes her head against his, nudging him away from her neck so she can thinkfor a second. He reluctantly obeys and settles for placing his hands on her sides, dangerously high, thumbs almost stroking the underside of her breasts. She pushes his hands down to her waist. ‘We shouldn’t have sex in Evidence—shouldn’t have broken into the precinct in the first place. I mean, do you want us to get arrested?’
He only laughs at that, of course. ‘I’m God, darling. I won’t get arrested.’
Chloe rolls her eyes. He would probably charm his way out of it if they were caught, God or not—but that doesn’t make any of this okay. She’s about to tell him as much when he adds-
‘But if you wanted to cuff me and tell me what to do, resisting would be the last thing on my mind. In fact, I’m sure we can find some cuffs lying about-’
‘Lucifer, no.’
Her tone is sharper than she’d intended. He pulls back a little, studying her face. His eyes flicker to her parted lips, her flushed, heaving chest, and then back to her determined gaze. His brows furrow.
‘Do you really not want to do this?’ His voice is soft, serious.
They stare at each other, hot breaths mingling. He’s still pressed up against her, a six-foot-three wall of muscle and love, and his scent—spicy cologne and smoke—floods her head like ambrosia, a dizzying fog of him. Her skin burns beneath his palms, his touch sending embers through the expensive fabric and down, flames licking at her inner thighs. Her heartbeat thumps in her ears.
‘We don’t even work here anymore,’ she rasps, deflecting his question. It’s a weak excuse, but she is fraying at the edges.
A salacious smile forms on Lucifer’s face. ‘We’ll just pretend we do.’
He takes a step back, putting a more ‘professional’ distance between them, adjusts his lapels and attempts at a neutral expression. ‘You wanted to show me something in Evidence, Detective?’
And there’s that word again, want—because she still hasn’t answered his question and her consent means more to him than anything. She loves him for that, she really does, but right now, it’s not that simple. She wants, every cell in her body wants, wants him to shove her into that closet and take her apart. Has wanted it for so long, thought about it for years—at her desk, in the shower, while sitting next to him during interrogations. Thought about it in the self-same evidence closet, as she was pressed up against the wall by someone else. Imagined tugging at his hair, feeling him between her legs—even had to swallow his name. She still thinks about it, thought about it the other night, briefly, wistfully, while making a cup of tea. Thought about how much fun they could have had, sneaking off to secret corners of the precinct like two horny teenagers—if it hadn’t been for, well, mostly Michael, and all the chaos he’d released upon their lives.
In fact, it’s only fair they have at least one reckless, semi-public rendezvous. Just one. To make up for the honeymoon phase they never really had. With all the hurt and heartbreak they’ve had to go through, alone and together, they deserve to have one night of stupid fun.
On the other hand, and this is why it’s not that simple, it’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. And also, pretty illegal. If she asked him to, if she said no now, he would take her home and push her up against the nearest surface, bury himself in her faster than any of them could get their clothes off, bring her to ecstasy-
But it’s not the same. It just isn’t.
With as much innocence she can muster, she looks up at his anticipatory face and puts her hand on the doorknob. The cold steel is a soothing balm against her burning skin.
‘I do want to show you something in Evidence.’
He lights up like it’s a declaration of love, all unrestrained enthusiasm.
‘After you, darling.’
Their lips crash against each other before the door is even closed. He pushes her backwards in the semi-darkness, between shelves and boxes, hands low on her hips. His fingers dig softly into her ass as they stumble towards a sliver of wall together, panting and laughing against each other’s mouths. He doesn’t break contact with her lips as he quickly sheds his jacket on the way and throws it over his shoulder, for the moment uncaring of dirt and creases. Then her back hits the wall with a thunk and she’s instantly struck by déjà vu, until Lucifer grabs her thigh inside the slit of her dress, and the unwelcome memory quickly evaporates in the heat of their clashing bodies as he wraps her bare leg around his waist and pins her to the wall with the hard press of his hips. Their unison groans fill the cramped space.
‘We shouldn’t be here,’ she murmurs breathlessly against his lips before opening her mouth to let his tongue back in. He tastes like wine and crème brûlée.
He hums in disagreement. ‘We should always be here, Detective.’ With the hand still on her ass, he pushes their bodies impossibly closer together and rocks against her. She moans, despite herself.
‘We- I-‘ Chloe stammers, leaning her head back as he kisses his way down her neck, her mind and body pulling in different directions. ‘This is- why am I letting you get away with this?’
She feels him smirk against her throat. His hand slowly glides up her inner thigh—her pulse quickening with every inch—until his thumb brushes past damp fabric.
‘Because you like me.’ His beard rasps against her hot skin in the crook of her neck, a contrast to his soft lips placing slow, open-mouthed kisses from her jaw to her collar. ‘Because you love me.’
Chloe scoffs.
‘Do I love you?’ she questions, her breathing erratic, her eyes turned to the ceiling as he sucks a mark onto her neck. With the hand that is still between her legs, he pushes her underwear to the side and rubs against her, nice and slow. ‘Yes.’ Her gasped answer has a proud, almost victorious chuckle rumbling from his chest.
‘But do I like you?’—she bites her lip and stifles another moan as his fingers press just right—‘That’s still up for debate.’
He breaks off the assault on her neck and looks up at her, eyes black with desire.
‘Allow me to try and tip the scales, then.’
She’s bereaved of his fingers as his hand moves to the edge of her underwear, pulling it down as he sinks to his knees. She almost stumbles when he slips it over her feet, but he grabs her leg, steadying her, and helps her out of her stilettos. Once she’s barefoot, his warm palms slide up the side of her legs, pushes the hem of her dress up a few inches, and then his mouth is on her.
He licks her, slowly, tenderly. She reaches down to pull at his hair, commanding him to give her more, to take more, and he does. He starts feasting on her, all tongue and lips and-
‘God, yes.’
He chuckles smugly into her core. ‘I do love it when you moan my name, darling.’ Eyes fixed on hers, he gives her a nice, long lick before he dives back in. He kisses her clit, sucks it, circles it, laps at her like he can’t get enough, and she’s reduced to a quivering, whimpering mess. She bucks against his face, needing more, and he does that thing that she likes, tongue flicking her clit, warm and wet, as he pushes a finger inside her.
Her eyes clench shut, her head falls back against the wall. She doesn’t bother holding back her groan this time.
Lucifer hums against her, low and greedy, taking as much as he can, before he pulls away with ragged breaths. ‘Ma déesse, que tu as bon gout.’
The meaning is forever lost on her, but his hungry tone, the way his tongue wraps smoothly around the French syllables, the words dripping like sin from his glistening lips, sends warm shivers down her spine.
He slows down his pace inside her, places kisses on her lower belly, seeks her ticklish spots and the ones that make her breath hitch, and then trails down to her hips, studying her sharp bone with his lips and his teeth, before moving down to her thigh, stubble prickling her tender skin. As if he’s got all the time in the world, he lets his mouth travel to the insides of her legs, already spread for him, and kisses a path up her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she aches with need,but never quite there. His finger, still moving slowly—too slowly—curls a bit, reaches that spot deep inside her that usually makes her see stars, but he pulls back before she’s even done gasping.
‘Lucifer,’ she breathes, a threat and a plea.
He places one last kiss to her sensitive thigh, nuzzles his nose against her heat, before his tongue finally finds her clit again and his finger starts pumping inside her, fast and hard. Then faster, harder, and, fuck, deeper.
‘Baby,’ she begs him to continue, fire spreading through her body, from her curling toes to her already heated cheeks.
He slows down for a second, and she reaches down to scratch at his scalp in frustration but quickly forgives him when he adds another finger and resumes his perfect pace, thrusting up in her to the beat of her racing heart.
‘Je veux te faire jouir.’ His thumb replaces his tongue as he looks up at her, eyes sparkling with lust and determination, but also patience. Like he could do this for hours, the whole night, as long as she falls apart around his tongue and fingers in the end.
He doesn’t need all night, though. She’s close, so close, can feel the beginning of that blissful high burning in her lower belly, between her thighs, where his mouth licks and nibbles and sucks. A building warmth pumping through her veins. She grabs at his hair, wraps her leg around his shoulder and pushes his face closer into her heat, needing that last-
‘Fuck, right there,’ she gasps. Right there right there right there.
He smirks against her, always eager to please, and does as she says. As she’s teetering on the edge, he curls both fingers inside her, goes impossibly deeper, and reaches the same spot as before, except this time, he doesn’t stop, and she comes with a shudder and a gasped ‘fuck!’ as he licks her through it.
‘Tu es tellement belle, ma chérie,’ he tells her, voice soft with awe as she comes down from her high and opens her eyes. She understands enough of the words to smile down at him, at his dishevelled hair, his swollen lips, and warm, chocolatey eyes.
‘You too, baby.’
She still hasn’t caught her breath when he, after wiping his mouth on her thigh, slowly rises from his feet and starts making his way up her body. His fingers skate lightly up her dress, his knuckles brushing against her rising and falling ribs as his hands sneak higher and higher, closer and closer. With a feather-light touch, he starts tracing the curves of her breasts, deliberately avoiding her aching nipples. He teases her with his fingers, kisses her neck, lips trailing, hot and slow, up to her jaw and the sensitive spot behind her earlobe.
‘J’ai envie de toi,’ he says into her ear, his voice rough with want and determination.
Chloe can’t take it anymore. She fists his waistcoast in one hand and grabs him by the hair with the other to pull him up into a hard kiss. He tries to stay in control, to hold back his obvious desire for just a little longer, but he quickly loses the battle and lets a bit of hunger take over. They pour equal heat into the kiss, tongues pressing and teeth clashing as their mouths slide against each other. She threads her fingers through his curls, he bites her lip, and they both groan and gasp into the kiss.
Chloe’s the one to pull away, needing air sooner than him. They’re looking into each other’s eyes, both panting, when he says it again, ‘J’ai envie de toi.’ This time, breathy desperation shines through his voice. ‘Je veux être en toi.’
And then they’re kissing again and both of them are working at his belt and pants in a flurry of hands until he’s finally inside her with one quick thrust. He fills her to the hilt, deliciously stretching her inner muscles, warm and hard. For a moment, they’re both so overcome they can only pause and breathe, Lucifer’s forehead cradled in the crook of her shoulder as her hand gently strokes the short hairs on the back of his neck.
He pulls back to look deeply into her eyes, and starts off slow. Not teasing, just tender. He kisses her cheeks and neck, every inch of skin he can reach with his lips, and whispers sweet nothings against her skin. She can’t know for sure, of course, because it’s still in French, and she doesn’t catch all of it, the sounds alien and muffled—‘t’es incroyable’, she hears, ‘j’suis fou amoureux de toi’—but something about his tone tells her it’s not as dirty as whatever he was saying before. Still, it makes her just as wet, the words tingling across her skin.
He picks up the pace, wraps her legs tighter around him, and pushes her harder against the wall. His hand grasps her breast roughly, seeking purchase, then rhythmically strokes over her nipple in apology, and she moans her relief. The shelves on either side of them hit the wall with a consistent thump, thump, thump as he thrusts up into her, fucks her, their harsh pants mingling in the small space between their parted lips. Chloe claws at Lucifer’s shoulders and back, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. Even through the two layers of fabric, she can feel his warmth and muscles, and a sudden urge bubbles up within her. With desperate fingers, she starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, but it takes too long—she needs him—so she rips open both shirt and waistcoat and frantically pushes them off his shoulders. He pins her against the wall with a hard thrust, letting go of her thigh and breast to shake the material onto the floor, and Chloe scratches at his finally bare back and shoulders, nails digging into slick, freckled flesh. She arches back into the wall and bares her neck for him to nip and kiss.
‘Fuck, Lucifer!’ she whines. ‘Oh, God, baby, fuckyes!’
He growls at the sound of her noises and bites her ear.
‘J’adore baiser avec toi.’ One hand slides down to her ass, holding her and pushing her dress higher up as the other bites into the now bare skin at her waist. The sharp touch sends a jolt down to her throbbing clit, making her clench tighter around him. ‘J’adore ton corps. T’es vraiment une déesse.’ The last word is a groan against her lips as he kisses her.
It’s wet, messy, and so delicious they both grasp tightly onto each other’s mouths with lips, tongues and teeth, neither of them wanting to ever let go.
‘Je veux t’embrasser,’ Lucifer pants when they break apart for a second, his gaze fixed on her mouth as their lungs fight for air. His dark eyes soften when they look into hers. ‘Chaque jour de ma vie,’ he adds reverently as he leans in. ‘Pour toujours.’ And then he kisses her again, like he wants it to last for all eternity.
His thrusts turn slower and deeper as they kiss, harder, until kissing becomes panting into each other’s mouths and Chloe’s head falls back in sheer pleasure. He tightens his grip on her ass and runs the hand on her waist up her side, brushing his thumb over her nipple as he passes her breast, up her neck, and cups the side of her face. She lets their eyes meet, and the way he’s looking at her, with absolute awe and gratitude, makes her heart flutter and her hips buck against his bare stomach. Her hands slide from where they’ve been clutching his mess of a hair to his back, trailing down to where he’s most sensitive. She places her palms on either side of his spine and presses lightly, carefully.
‘Tu me-’ he cuts off with a gasp when her nails skim over his hidden wings, ‘Tu me rends- fucking hell, Chloe.’
She keens at the guttural sound of her name. He leans his forehead against hers with a grunt, the slight change in angle making his rhythm falter, one hand slamming against the wall next to her. She watches the rest of his control slip through glazed eyes. She did this to him. She rendered God himself lost to his own bliss. That knowledge itself is nearly enough to push her over the edge.
‘Close,’ she breathes.
He grabs both her thighs with strong hands and presses her flush up against the wall, going impossibly deeper inside her. She hisses through her teeth and sputters all kinds of incoherent, unholy prayers into the sweltering air between them. Every hard thrust pushes her closer to ecstasy.
‘You make me so happy,’ Lucifer whispers, sounding so wrecked and raw her eyes clench shut. ‘I want- I hope- fuck- I hope I make you, nnf, just as happy.’
‘You do, baby. You make me so- so-’
Heat floods her veins as she comes, the sweet tension snapping all at once. She cries out, arches her back, and moans long and low as he continues to fuck her through it. His thrusts are quick and inelegant, his arms and thighs trembling, and she knows he’s close. She intentionally clenches around him, whispers his name, and then he too is tumbling over the edge, the only type of falling she ever wants him to feel again.
They smile at each other as they try to catch their breaths, sweaty foreheads still pressed together.
‘I love you,’ he says. ‘So much.’
She hums with happiness, her heart pleasantly aching at the sound of the words he couldn’t say the last time they were here.
‘I love you too, babe.’ She reaches up to lazily nuzzle the hairs at the nape of his neck, still smiling.
‘Maybe you even like me?’
She lets out a breathy chuckle and slides down the wall to land on her bare feet. Her legs are… wobbly, to say the least. Lucifer smirks at her.
‘We’ll see about that.’ She smoothes out her dress as he tucks himself back into his pants and fastens his belt. ‘If anyone ever finds out about this, your chances are pretty bad, buddy.’
She collects his clothes from the floor and helps him into his shirt. Two buttons are missing, lost to the force of her hasty ripping. It gives her an odd sense of satisfaction, the fact that the shirt he wore when they first kissed—the shirt she dreamt of tearing off his body—now is marked by their little escapade. (At least until he gets his tailor to fix it.)
‘Well, I’ll just have to keep trying to convince you then, won’t I?’ He licks his lips and lifts his eyebrows as he offers her a hand to help her up from the floor once she’s put her shoes back on. Chloe bites her cheek so as to not smile at his suggestion and intertwines their fingers.
‘You can start by helping me assemble that new shelf system tomorrow,’ she tells him, waiting for him to groan in response, or mumble something about hiring some people to do it for them. But he doesn’t. He just opens the door for her and lets her go first with a soft smile on his still flushed face.
This started as a ficlet about Lucifer being very mature about a beanbag brand name, and then it turned into fluff with the group I've dubbed the Celestial Insiders once they all find out. Based off this post from @thewollfgang. Also on AO3 here.
The movie night was Ella’s idea. After they’d all recovered from learning the truth, there had been many more conversations on what quintessentially human things the Celestials hadn’t done, and they’d ended up with a long list of classic films they hadn’t seen. Trixie and Ella had insisted they start with some classic Disney, so they all descended on Lucifer’s penthouse one Saturday afternoon for a mini marathon of classics.
When they arrived, the penthouse had been transformed. The couch was pushed right out of the way, and in its place were three enormous beanbags around the coffee table where a couple of large bowls of popcorn were already sat. Lucifer was sat in one of them, lounging back with a huge grin on his face.
"I didn't know you had giant beanbags Lucifer!" Ella said, rushing over and flopping into one of the unoccupied ones.
"I bought them for movie nights Miss Lopez, but they're not beanbags. They're Lovesacs." he replied sending a flirty look in Chloe's direction. She gave him a Look, and he was quick to respond.
"That's the brand name Detective. They aren't se- um, 'adult' furniture, the covers would be a nightmare to clean. I'll admit I did buy them because of the name, but they are insanely comfortable." he explained, and Chloe was pleased that he remembered how she'd asked him to refer to sex things around Trixie.
"He's right! They're so comfy! Come join us." Ella piped up from where she'd almost disappeared into her chosen seat. After she spoke, the others came over and claimed their spots for the movie.
Maze and Linda took the remaining empty one, Dan joined Ella, and Chloe joined her boyfriend. After a moment, Trixie joined them too, plonking herself down on Lucifer’s other side. Once everyone was settled in, most of the humans loudly agreeing with Lucifer and Ella's assessment of the comfort, he clicked a button on a remote to dim the lights, and hit play on the first movie of their marathon, The Little Mermaid.
About halfway through the movie, Lucifer leant in close to Chloe.
"Later, we could see what it's like to make love on a Lovesac. I reckon we could get some interesting positions." he whispered into her ear, the swift elbow to his ribs doing nothing to abate the smirk on his lips.
"Lucifer! Trixie's right there!" she hissed, fixing him with a brief glare before turning back to the movie.
"Alright Chloe. I’ll shut up," he replied, mirth sparkling in his eyes, "But after everyone’s left-" She shot him another glare, and he chuckled.
A few movies later, almost everyone was asleep, snuggled down into the softness of the Lovesacs. As people had started to drop off, Lucifer had brought out blankets and offered people a bed in one of his many spare rooms, but everyone declined. As the credits finished on the final movie of the night, he turned to Chloe, careful not to disturb Trixie.
"Do you want to go to bed Detective?"
"Nuh-uh. Comfy here." she murmured, snuggling closer into him.
"Let me get you a blanket, love."
"Stay here." she mumbled, tightening her embrace, and he smiled at her sleepy affection. After a moment, he shifted slightly and unfurled his wings, careful not to hit Trixie with them, and curled one protectively around Chloe.
"Sleep well Chloe." he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.
“Lucifer I swear to your Dad if you bring me one more salad—“
Lucifer frowned and his big brown eyes widened adorably and she almost—almost—gave in. She rubbed her stomach thinking she would have another pair of brown puppy eyes to deal with soon. She already had two. She looked up at the ceiling and glared. A third one was so not playing fair.
“My darling I simply want what is best for you and our fetus. We decided that your diet would change when you became pregnant.”
When they had decided they wanted a child and that they would give it try, Lucifer had read every book printed on the subject, along with every website and brochure, and he interrogated the doctor at every visit.
It was both endearing and annoying, two things Lucifer excelled at and his Dad help her she loved him for it, but she was honestly worried her doctor would fire them.
“First, we know we’re having a girl so you can stop calling her ‘our fetus’.”
“That’s technically what she is—“
“—And second I think it’s sweet that you are so into this, but you closely monitoring my folic acid intake is driving me crazy and I don’t want our child to be fatherless.”
He frowned. “But salad is good for you and the spawn.”
“So is red meat and dairy. Carbs. I want carbs, Lucifer.”
He pouted and she melted. Maybe she was being a little unreasonable, but was it so terrible to want a fracking bear claw every now and then? It wasn’t like she was going to eat the whole box.
She sighed, gently placed the salad on her desk and took his oversized hands to settle them on her belly. Immediately she felt the tension in his hands lessen a little.
“Look I’m nervous too. I’m older now and things could happen. And I know you’re trying to help.” She gave his hands a squeeze. “You are being helpful...”
His lips quirked up a little, but his eyes were still downcast. She bit her lip, thinking.
“Tell you what.” She picked up the salad and his eyes immediately lit up. “I’ll eat this salad and any other one you give me without complaint as long as they come with some pizza or pasta or meat and potatoes or something. Please.”
His mouth lifted up into a full grin. “And fruit. Fruit is important too.”
She smiled back at him. “And fruit. Deal?”
“Deal.” He smile brilliantly and kissed her forehead, her lips, then her belly. “Be back in a few minutes.”
With a whoosh he disappeared and a small white feather drifted idly down from where he had stood. She snatched it up and rolled her eyes. He had to stop doing that or people would get suspicious.
As quickly as he had left he returned with another whoosh and a box of something hot and smelling of mozzarella, tomato, and basil.
‘Please don’t be a pizza salad,’ she thought as she went to take the box from him.
To her relief, he opened it for her to reveal the steaming, cheesy contents. “Your complex carbohydrates, my love.”
“Thank you, my husband.”
She gave him a lingering kiss then dug into her first slice. As soon as the flavors hit her tongue she hummed her approval.
“Mmm, this is the best pizza I’ve ever had! Where did you get it? Little Italy?”
“Actual Italy.”
At her raised eyebrows, he shrugged. “If I’m going to give you indulgent food it may as well be the best. With organic fresh ingredients to boot.”
She chuckled and stroked his face. “I love you.”
His eyes grew misty as they always did whenever she said that. “I love you too,” he murmured.
Leaning down he kissed her...and swiped a slice of her pizza. “Hey!”
Dodging her swat he scooped her up in his free arm and kissed her again.
Fic Prompt 3: “It’s three in the morning.” Requested by an anon.
So, there were a lot of places this could have gone, but I decided to make it fluffy and happy. So ensues an established, in-the-know Deckerstar sickfic. Bonus kudos to you if you pick up on the tiny Spiderman reference hiding in here ;) Enjoy!
Chloe was pulled from her dreams when the feeling of a large hand shaking her shoulder began to rouse her from the wonderful haze of sleep. Nothing hurt when she was asleep, but now that she was being pulled into consciousness she was quickly reminded of the pain radiating through her skull, the unbearable itch in the back of her throat, the uncomfortable twist in her stomach; and most of all, the overwhelming cold that made her body rack with an involuntary shudder. She slowly cracked an eye open, the glaring red numbers on her alarm clock cutting through the dark like a lighthouse cutting through the ocean fog. She groaned when she read the time, burying her face deeper into her pillow as she prayed that sleep would return to her quickly, lest she be forced to lay there in pain until the sun eventually rose. She’d only just began to relax once more when the hand was shaking her shoulder again, pulling a grumpy grumble from the sleepy detective.
“Chloe?” A concerned voice broke the silence quietly, and she groaned at the noise, her head throbbing painfully. “You need to wake up, darling.” The voice continued, and it took her a moment to register just whose voice it was, but the thick British accent was a dead giveaway.
“It’s three in the morning,” Chloe grumbled before burying her head deeper into her pillow in hopes that it would do something to help dull Lucifer’s voice which was much too loud at the moment.
“Yes, I’m aware, but —”
“No buts. Go away,” Chloe cut Lucifer off before he could continue. Why didn’t her boyfriend seem to understand that humans needed significantly more sleep than angels did? Under normal circumstances she would’ve been able to tolerate him, but not right now, everything hurt and it was just so cold. She momentarily wondered if Lucifer stole all of the blankets from her for the umpteenth time this week, but her train of thought was cut short by another viscous bought of chills.
“Darling,” Lucifer spoke up once again, his hand wrapping around her upper arm as he rolled her onto her back with ease despite her groaning protests and her feeble struggling. “You need to take more medicine. It’s been six hours,” Lucifer continued, his voice pounding against her skull just before she heard the click of a bedside lamp being turned on and light flooded through the room, making her squint painfully as she let out another groan. She slowly managed to recollect her memories of the previous day, her and Lucifer were supposed to go on a date, but she’d felt like crap and when she took her temperature she’d quickly learned that she had a one-hundred and one-degree fever. She’d taken the proper medications and went about her day despite the discomfort, she couldn’t shirk her responsibilities just because she had the flu. But as the day went on her condition only worsened, and by the time only a few hours remained until she was supposed to meet up with her boyfriend she’d accepted that she was in no condition for a night out.
She’d called him after that to cancel their plans, immediately earning a volley of questions that she’d been forced to answer; she’d reassured him that he’d done nothing wrong, that everything was alright, and no, her car had not broken down again. Of course, Lucifer was so insistent that she eventually just came out with it and told him that she was down with a cold, probably the same one that Trixie had a mere three days ago. She’d told him time and time again that he should just stay at Lux, she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself; and besides, Trixie would more than pleased with the opportunity to ‘play doctor’. But of course he’d refused to listen to her, and a mere thirty minutes later he was at her doorstep with a styrofoam container filled with chicken noodle soup and a concerned expression plastered across his face. She had to admit that he’d been more than helpful despite his minimal experience dealing with sick humans, and he’d done a pretty decent job overall; if anything he was too concerned.
He’d tried to convince her to go to the doctor more times than she cared to recall, and then he meticulously read over each label adorning the bottles of medication that Chloe had been taking, and she’d found it adorable that the big bad devil was so worried about a little cold. But at this point, his unnecessary coddling was becoming incredibly frustrating. She needed sleep more than she needed another mouthful of fever reducers and cough syrup. She grumbled sleepily when Lucifer shoved a thermometer into her mouth, earning herself a very motherly response of, “Well do you want to get better or not?”. As soon as it started beeping and Lucifer took a look at it he made a discontented humming noise before immediately turning to the various bottles of pills and syrups spread out across the nightstand beside him.
Before she knew it Chloe was being handed two large blue pills and a small plastic cup filled with bright red ‘cherry’ flavored cough syrup. “Why are you torturing me like this?” She mumbled grumpily as she managed to sit up. Chloe lifted the flimsy plastic cup to her lips and grimaced as she swallowed the thick concoction that definitely didn’t taste like any cherry she’d ever encountered during her thirty-six years on this planet. “Should’ve let me stay asleep.” She added resentfully when he offered her a glass of water.
“I’m only looking out for you,” Lucifer replied softly while she gratefully took a long sip of the water, happy to wash the taste of the cough syrup away. “We both know I’d never be able to forgive myself if your feeble human body gave out on my watch.” He continued as she popped both of the pills into her mouth before swallowing them down with several gulps of water.
“I’m not feeble,” Chloe grumbled before downing the last dredges of water in her glass. She shoved the glass vaguely in Lucifer’s direction and groaned when another sharp pain resonated through her skull.
“Not typically.” Her boyfriend replied as he took the glass from her before immediately continuing, “But I’m reconsidering at the moment.”.
Chloe growled under her breath as she flopped back against the bed, pulling the covers up over her head as she turned so that she was facing away from her boyfriend. “Jerk.” She mumbled, earning a soft chuckle from the man just before she heard the bedside lamp click off and felt him lay back down beside her.
“Well, goodnight to you too darling.”
The sunlight filtering through the drapes was what finally woke Chloe up, she slowly blinked in the light, thankfully realizing that she didn’t feel nearly as bad as she did last night. Her throat was still a little raw and she still felt nauseous, but considering how she felt yesterday she was willing to call that a win. The next thing that she registered was the absolutely heavenly smell filling her room, just a hint of vanilla mixed with something buttery; it was almost enough to pique her nonexistent appetite. The muted sound of Trixie’s laughter reached her ears, and it was enough to spur her to get up out of bed, she quickly freshened up a bit in the bathroom before padding downstairs.
“Good morning mommy!” Trixie’s bright voice greeted her the second she stepped into the kitchen, the sound immediately pulling Lucifer’s attention from the bowl of batter before him as he quickly looked over at her before flashing her one of his trademark grins. Chloe returned his smile quickly as she closed the distance between herself and her daughter who was currently perched at the kitchen bar.
“Hey, baby,” Chloe greeted her child, giving her a quick hug before sitting down beside her. “What’s going on in here?” She asked as she turned her attention back to her boyfriend, he opened his mouth to reply but Trixie was answering before he could get a word out.
“Lucifer’s making waffles!” Trixie exclaimed, a gappy smile filling her face, and Chloe chuckled softly at her daughter’s overwhelming enthusiasm.
“Of course you have to make waffles when I feel too sick eat them,” Chloe shook her head as she fixed her gaze on her boyfriend.
“It was what the little miscreant desired,” Lucifer defended when the waffle iron beeped and he turned around to tend to it. “I promise I’ll make it up to you when you’re feeling better.” He added, his voice holding a sultry undertone that alluded to the promise of ‘breakfast in bed’ in the near future. “Speaking of, it’s time,” Lucifer added, his tone apologetic as he turned to face her, plucking the dreaded thermometer out of his shirt’s breast pocket before holding it out towards her.
Chloe took the tiny device with a reluctant sigh, turning it on with the push of a button before obediently tucking it under her tongue. Thirty seconds seemed to drag on for an eternity as Lucifer tended to breakfast and Trixie impatiently fidgeted in her chair. Chloe was relieved when the thermometer finally beeped, pulling it from her mouth and letting out a breath of relief when she noticed that it read 97.9 degrees, perhaps Lucifer would stop forcing cough syrup and pills down her throat now. Her boyfriend took the thermometer from her a moment later, the concern on his features relaxing as he read the numbers on the display. “How are you feeling?” He questioned quietly as he rested the plastic device on the kitchen island.
“A lot better. Nauseous. But better,” Chloe answered honestly as Lucifer reached out, resting one of his hands on top of hers, his thumb brushing back and forth across her skin slowly as he nodded softly at her words.
“Do you want anything?”
Chloe mulled over the question for a moment before responding, “Coffee sounds good.”.
A smile grew on Lucifer’s face at her answer, a quiet half-chuckle escaping him. “Perhaps orange juice instead?” He offered, and although the thought of going without her morning caffeine made her good spirits deflate a bit she knew that Lucifer was right, some vitamin C would do her good. Chloe nodded her agreement a moment later, smiling when her boyfriend squeezed her hand gently before pulling away and returning his attention to breakfast.
It only took a short moment for Lucifer to finish the last waffle and present Trixie with her plate, earning a squeal of delight from the child who dug into the food like a ravenous pack of wolves. Lucifer took his seat beside Chloe a moment later, his own helping of waffles and a tall glass of orange juice in hand. They all settled into a comfortable silence as they focused on their food, and Chloe managed to make it halfway through her glass of orange juice before her eyes settled on the neon green numbers on the microwave. She spluttered into her glass in shock, immediately earning a concerned glance from both her daughter and her boyfriend as they stopped eating to stare at her for a moment.
“It’s ten thirty! Monkey, you were supposed to be at school two hours ago,” Chloe explained, her words coming out in a jumbled rush as she quickly got out of her chair, silently cursing the fact that she was still in pajamas and would have to change before rushing her little one off to school. However, before she could even begin to make her way towards her bedroom to put on some suitable clothes Lucifer’s hand was resting on her upper arm in an almost reassuring manner.
“Darling, it’s alright. I called her in sick today,” Lucifer spoke up the moment her eyes settled on his face. The words made Chloe pause for a second before immediately shaking her head as she stared her partner down through narrowed eyes.
“Lucifer, I have work in a few hours. Maze is out on a job. Nobody is going to be around to watch her,” Chloe explained, her voice growing tense as she stepped out from under his touch. She knew that he meant well, but God, sometimes he really just made things worse. She only made it a few feet towards the staircase before she heard Lucifer let out a lofty sigh as the legs of his chair scraped against the ground, announcing that he’d abandoned his seat.
“Chloe,” Lucifer’s voice broke the quiet with ease, his tone blatantly authoritative. It was the use of her first name, and the way her boyfriend’s stern voice demanded to be acknowledged, that made her stop in her tracks. “I called you in sick as well.” He explained, his voice growing much gentler as she felt his hand rest lightly on her shoulder. Chloe immediately turned at the admission, her mouth opening to protest the decision, but before she could get a word out Lucifer was resting his index finger against her lips, effectively shushing her. “I know that you’re too strong to show it, but you’re in pain.” He stated, and even though part of her wanted to deny his words, Chloe knew that he was right. She felt much better, but she was still tired, and sore, and probably more dehydrated than she cared to admit. “You need some time to rest and your body needs to recover,” Lucifer added, and she felt the last of her resolve to conquer the day crumble. She had to admit, it would be nice to take a day to relax, especially after pushing herself so hard yesterday. “And what better way to accomplish that than to spend the whole day with your spawn and your friendly neighborhood Satan?” Chloe laughed at the question, but her laugh quickly turned into a cough and Lucifer pulled her into his chest as he rubbed tiny, soothing circles against the small of her back.
As soon as Chloe recovered from the unexpected onslaught she mumbled her thanks to her boyfriend, who placed a kiss against her forehead before releasing her. Breakfast continued without a hitch from there on, Trixie was excited to have the day off, and she kept pestering the adults with questions about what they were going to do. Chloe was thankful that Lucifer shot down all of her daughter’s more ambitious suggestions, and eventually, Trixie’s begging managed to reduce the former Lord of Hell to an agreement of a Disney movie binge.
It didn’t take long for the small family to migrate to the living room, and Trixie had already amassed a small mountain of titles that she wanted to watch by the time Lucifer had provided Chloe with a small nest of blankets and pillows on the couch that she happily settled into before curling into Lucifer’s side as he sat down beside her. Trixie popped Beauty and the Best into the DVD player before cuddling into Chloe’s free side. The Detective didn’t pay much attention to the movie, she was more focused on the feeling of Lucifer’s fingers trailing lazy patterns across her bare forearms, but eventually, she succumbed to the ever-growing weight dragging her eyelids down.
She came to for a brief moment when someone jostled her, earning a quick apology from her boyfriend that she barely heard over ‘Under the Sea’ that was currently blaring through the TV speakers, but sleep pulled her back under before she could even think to utter a response. She wasn’t sure what time it was when she came to again, but when she cracked open her eyes she immediately noticed Moana playing on the television, and the heartwarming image of her boyfriend sitting on the ground beside her daughter as the two worked on Trixie’s latest coloring book together. She managed to stay conscious long enough to watch a few scenes, and Chloe smiled when Lucifer sang along to Maui’s song. The last thing she heard before sleep reclaimed her were Lucifer’s modified lyrics, “What can I say except you’re welcome, for the sun, the stars, free will. Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re welcom—”.
The next time Chloe came to she found Lucifer laying down on the couch beside her, his arms wrapped around her waist as he drew in deep, slow breaths. And, much to her delight, she quickly realized that the surreal warmth engulfing her was coming from the fluffy white cocoon of wings that were currently covering her from the midsection down. She smiled giddily at the sight, a yawn escaping her before she slowly freed one of her arms, careful not to jostle Lucifer in his sleep before reaching down and stroking her index finger down the length of one of his primaries. She made sure to be gentle, and to stroke only in a downward motion, she still remembered the first time she’d touched his wings, and the important lesson she’d learned that day as though it had happened just hours ago and not months upon months.
“Can I…can I touch them?” Chloe breathed quietly as she stepped forward, her hand reaching out towards the gorgeous, stunning white wings that were spread at Lucifer’s sides. How could he say that he was the Devil? He was the most angelic creature that she’d ever laid eyes on. She knew that she should probably be scared, she should have already fallen on her knees and begged God for forgiveness for any sins she’d ever committed, but the fear just didn’t exist; awe on the other hand, well, there was plenty of that to go around.
“If you want to…” Lucifer replied, his voice tight and almost unsure as he shifted his weight in a way that made Chloe think that he was nervous or something. She didn’t think about Lucifer’s reaction for too long though, because a moment later her fingertips were gracing his feathers and she was drawing in a shuddering breath at the feeling. She wanted to compare them to silk, but she knew that wasn’t right; no, they were like some mix of satin and velvet that was so much softer than anything she’d ever felt in her life. She quickly noticed Lucifer’s shaky inhale just before his voice broke the silence once more, “Just be careful abo—”.
He didn’t get to finish before Chloe was dragging her hand back up his feathers, sucking in a rough breath as she felt one of her fingers catch on one of his primaries, blood staining his feather and trickling over her finger almost immediately. “About that,” Lucifer finished as he reached out, taking her hand in both of his and immediately applying pressure to the pad of her finger in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
“You cut me?” Chloe questioned, her voice taking on an indignant tone as she glared up at the supposedly ‘fallen’ angel.
“I didn’t mean to,” Lucifer replied immediately, his voice apologetic as he began to lead her over to the bar. “They’re weapons, they’re sharp.” He explained as he gestured for her to take a seat at one of the barstools before settling down on the one beside her.
“W-weapons?” She stammered slightly, confusion engulfing her for a moment as all of this new information about angels, and God, and an afterlife overwhelmed her temporarily. Lucifer hummed an affirmative as he grabbed a bottle of amber liquid and quickly poured a few drops over her cut, making her wince at the sting before he was putting pressure on the wound once again.
“Angels aren’t fluffy, harmless little creatures frolicking about in the clouds, Detective,” Lucifer explained gently, his eyes meeting hers before he continued, “They’re highly trained, very dangerous soldiers.”.
“Dangerous,” Chloe muttered under her breath as she quickly glanced at the marble floor beneath her. The word felt wrong when it was applied to Lucifer; he was her partner, her friend, and she hoped, one day in the future, maybe something more. But that had been before this sudden realization that he had wings, that he was apparently the Devil. She silently wondered if her and Lucifer could ever work now that she knew what he was. But had anything actually changed? He was still just Lucifer. Right?
Before she could wander too far down that train of thought she felt a finger wrap under her chin, tilting her head back up so she could look him in the eyes. “Not to you, darling,” Lucifer breathed, his voice gentle and his expression beseeching. “Never to you.” He added, and Chloe believed him, she did. She knew that Lucifer prided himself on his honesty, and she’d never seen him so earnest before. The Devil may be dangerous, but he wasn’t dangerous to her.
Chloe smiled at the memory as she lifted her hand and ran it over the strong band of muscles lining the top of his wing, making Lucifer nuzzle his face deeper into her hair as he made a muffled grumbling noise. She knew that he’d woken up when she felt him press a kiss against the top of her head before loosening his grip on her so he could pull back enough to look at her. “How are you feeling?” He rumbled, his voice still thick with sleep as he lifted his arm and ran his thumb across her cheekbone softly.
“Good,” Chloe answered honestly. She actually felt good as new, and she silently thanked Lucifer for taking the initiative to call her in sick today. She turned her head slightly to glance out of one of her windows, delighted to find that the sun was still up. Perhaps they could all do something with Trixie before returning to their regular schedules tomorrow, that was, after some ‘grown-up alone time’ with her boyfriend. “So…I’m feeling better…” Chloe trailed off suggestively, giving Lucifer a sultry smile as she pulled her hand from his wing and ran her fingers through his unruly dark hair.
Lucifer hummed softly at her words, placing a kiss against her forehead before pulling back slightly. “Do you want me to go make you waffles?” He questioned, his voice holding a teasing tone as his wings drew her body tighter against his own.
Chloe smiled at the question, biting her lower lip and shaking her head as she returned her hand to Lucifer’s wing. “I think I’m more in the mood for a little dessert.” She replied as she buried her fingers deep into the fluffy, harmless down feathers lining the underside of his wing before tugging on them lightly, earning a deep groan from the Devil as his wing spasmed slightly.
“You insatiable little minx,” Lucifer growled before tilting her chin up and kissing her softly. Chloe smiled at the familiar feeling of smooth lips and rough stubble; she dragged her hand through his fluffy down feathers one last time before Lucifer pulled her hand away, pinning it above her head as he quietly rumbled, “So, are we in the mood for chocolate or vanilla?”.
