Hiya! Could you write a one-shot with a reader that has a heart condition which makes it impossible for her to hunt - so she just does research for Sam and Dean, and Lucifer mocks her for it(because he knows no other ways to express affection). Until one day when she gets so upset that her heart acts out and the boys has to get her to lay down and take her medicine and Lucifer finally understands, but gets angry since his father loved humans but gave HER this sickness. So he heals her
That sounds so awesome! God, it is so interesting! Here comes your Lucifer!
You are sitting in the dining room with the Winchesters, googling something for their next trip. Turns out it will be somewhere in Texas. They just got home from a very long trip, so both are sitting next to you, drinking beer and talking to you about something not so important but very comfortable - you are laughing at something, and Dean hands you a bottle, first examining it as if it may kill you.
“Oh, my two and a half hunters?” Lucifers walks in the room, holding a book with neglect in his eyes and movement.
“Why half?” asks Sam, not expecting to hear a “Lucifer type” answer.
“Y/N never hunts, does she?” he grins, passing by you and tapping you on your shoulder. “Little Google lover over here.”
“She will never hunt,” Dean states loudly, not letting you explain why you don’t hunt. “She will stay alive for years, unlike us.”
“Oh, so she is going to just sit home and have the sweet life, enjoying her freedom and safety, as a usual sissy?” you flush, willing to defend yourself, but Dean grabs your hand.
“She will stay home, and you won’t say another word about it.”
“Sure. What about I articulate another word about it?” he grins. “Just a random human, who will even care if she dies?”
“Lucifer, shut your mouth,” Sam almost screams.
“Oh, I am just wondering why you are keeping this helpless sad sack. If anything happens, she can’t even do anything. Ever. What will she do without the protection of two… hunters?”
“I will be fine!”
“Oh… And how will that happen? You can’t even deal with stress - helpless idiot.”
“I… it is not my fault!”
“Oh, sure. It’s just obvious from how these two are defending you from everything around,” you look at Sam and Dean, as they are stressed, staring at you, ready to cut his head off. “They don’t even let you carry anything heavy enough for you to get a little bit tired.”
“I… I am not…” you try to defend yourself, then suddenly feel how hard it becomes to breathe, as if something heavy is on your chest. You grab the chair, trying to stand still, as your legs are suddenly unable to hold you. You raise your hand to your neck, trying to free your chest of the pain. “I…”
“Y/N?” Sam gently touches your hand, feels how cold it is, and he carefully picks you up and carries to the couch, telling Dean something about your medicine, so the brother disappears to get back with your small box of medicine. Sam quickly unbuttons the top of your shirt, making sure that nothing is bothering your breathing, while Dean puts a pill in your mouth and raises a glass of water to your lips, making sure that you swallow it. You breathe in slowly, feeling how the pain slowly goes away, and you can now focus on the worried faces of the brothers. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” you swallow, as Dean covers your legs with a blanket. “I’m fine, it was just a moment of weakness.”
“Shhhh… Stay quiet,” he makes sure you stay down. “Stay. Here.”
“I am ok, Dean.”
“What is going on?” you hear Lucifer ask, as if he is interested in your survival. “Hurt by the horrible truth?”
“She got a freaking heart condition!” yells Dean, grabbing Lucifer’s neck and shaking it. “She can die if she gets too stressed. Especially because of your sassy ass!”
“I won’t die,” you say weakly, and Lucifer looks at you, as if not paying attention to the strong hands on his neck. “I am fine, Dean.”
“Let me see,” Lucifer makes a step forwards, as if Dean is not holding him. He kneels next to you and puts a hand on your chest, as Dean takes a step back. “That is strange… He created you to be perfect, didn’t he?” you look at him, not understanding what is happening and what the Satan means. “God. He created you to be so… pure and wonderful. How do you have this… thing in your heart?”
“That’s called not being healthy,” you mumble, feeling uncomfortable under the glance of suddenly deep, warm, even worried about you eyes. The brothers leave, somehow feeling that the situation is no good for more than two people.
“Will you… will you die because of that?”
“Why?” Lucifer looks surprised by the fact that you won’t live forever.
“Because my heart will… Not work at some point.”
“I don’t understand… Aren’t you scared?” you look away, and he touches your cheek, making you look at him. “Y/N?”
“Lucifer, that is human nature. We die,” you smile sadly, as he frowns.
“No. You are not dying.”
“Why do you care, Lucifer? Whether I die or not, your life is longer than anyone else’s. You won’t even notice,” he gently smiles and slowly covers your eyes with one hand, so that you can’t see how his hand radiating light, as your chest fills in with incredible pain, as if he is actually tearing your heart out. You scream, grabbing his hand and trying to push it away, but Lucifer is much stronger, so you can’t avoid the pain, just squirming under the strong hand. In just a few seconds that seem like hours to you, he raises his hand, stopping the pain. You whimper, pulling knees closer to the torn apart chest.
“Shhh…” he gently pulls you closer, putting both hands on your shoulders. “It is good now.”
“It hurts,” you whisper, as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair, then gently kisses you on forehead.
“I know, I know, I am sorry. Everything will be good now.”
“Why did you hurt me?”
“Stupid,” he grins, as you sit up and rub your chest, feeling the terrible itchiness there. “I healed you. Your heart is healthy now.”
“My heart?” you look him in the eye. “W-Why? Why did you do that?”
“It is unfair that God created you, being so beautiful,” he tucks a curl behind your ear, keeping his face next to yours. “But dying of some disease. I don’t want that to happen,” you smile and look away.
“I will still die.”
“I will make sure it happens not any time soon,” Lucifer smiles, slowly lowering his head and kissing you, gently touching your lips with his, and you kiss him back, feeling how he gently pulls you closer, keeping one hand on your waist and another on your nape. “And no one will kill you, you hear me?” you feel like he would say ‘other than me’ but his voice is different.
“Yes,” you smile. “Yes, I hear you.”
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