@mischief-with-sandra asked for 13! Imagine this takes place sometime in season 3 where Chloe is In The Know but dating Marcus
13. “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!”
“Lucifer.” Chloe growls, at the very end of her wits. She’s trying to do paperwork and the plastic of the pen in her hand creaks dangerously with the force of her grip. “I’m not talking about it.” She stands up, deciding that she needs a cup of coffee.
His nostrils flare with frustration and he trails after her, dogged. “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!”
She whirls on him, nearly nose to nose. “I know it did! Okay!” He looks taken aback at her intensity. “I am very aware of what happened.” she says and shoves down that little flutter of arousal remembering it.
They’d been investigating the Sinnerman off the books and gotten themselves in a bad situation. Even with Lucifer’s wings spread out protectively around them, it hadn’t looked good. And maybe it had been the adrenaline or the fact that they might not have made it out, but she’d grabbed at his collar, hauled him down, and kissed him. It had been…good. Really good.
She heats a little, remembering the way he had moaned into her mouth, hands slipping around her, clutching at her. The hot slide of his tongue along her own.
Then Maze had set off some explosives and rescued them. They’d pulled away from each other and she had refused to meet Lucifer’s questioning gaze. Chloe’s mouth had tingled with scuff burn for hours after.
Back in the present Lucifer seems genuinely confused. “But I don’t understand. You’re dating the Lieutenant. Why would you…” he trails off.
She can’t believe they are having this conversation in the middle of the precinct. “It was a heat of the moment thing. I thought we were going to die.” she tells him.
He studies her with dark, powerful eyes. “You’re lying.” he says, appearing fascinated by it.
She curses his stupid abilities and starts walking away, but he follows after her, long legs easily keeping pace.
“Why would you lie about this?” he asks, and she ignores him. “Unless.” He halts, sudden enough that she pauses too. “Unless you wanted to kiss me?” he says and she’s not sure why he sounds so bewildered. “But you know what I am, who I am.” he states with fervor. “How could you want -” he cuts himself off.
“You think learning the truth about you would put me off?” she asks, aghast. She is never, ever, telling him about her sex dream with the horns. Never.
“Well, of course.” And he’s got this face that makes him look like a lost little boy. “How could it not?”
And god, she’s going to pay for this later, she just knows, but she can’t let something like that stand. She glances around, makes sure no one is watching and steps into Lucifer’s space. She grabs a fistful of his shirtfront and presses her mouth to his, fast and warm. She falls back to her feet and releases the hold on him. She’s crinkled the material a little, but he doesn’t even notice, staring at her with something akin to shock.
“It doesn’t put me off.” she says, somehow out of breath, even though the kiss had been swift. “Alright?”
Lucifer looks like he’s been poleaxed. “Alright.” he croaks.
“Good. Glad we got that settled.” she states and then spins on her heel and makes a dash to the break-room. She needs coffee and that bottle of whiskey hidden under the counter.
Pairings/Characters: Lucifer x Reader, Sam and Dean Winchester, OC Wilson
Word Count: 1496
Series Summary: Soulmates. You’re meant to love your soulmate, right? But what happens if your soulmate is a human-hating, spiteful archangel?
Part Summary: You wake up in a field in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but a slip of paper in your pocket. The only word on the paper? Winchester.
A/N: Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s me actually posting something for once?! Oh my god, what a turn of events. SO many people have been asking for a part four, to which I am very greatful for, I hope I did this part justice haha ENJOY xoxo
IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED IN THE NEXT PART PLEASE LET ME KNOW ;)
Long grass. Cars in the distance and birdsong floating through the air.
I shot up. Quickly I ran my hands over myself. Still had my head, hair, legs, boobs, all of which were completely unharmed. What the hell happened? I was dead- or I should have been anyway. I looked closely at my once broken arm, more shocked than anything that there was no scar or anything at all. It was like none of it actually happened.
It was so hot, had to be near 100 degrees if not more, and the jeans and jacket I was wearing only multiplied the heat. I chucked the jacket off, not really caring where it went. I just needed it off. As I chucked the jacket, a small white slip of paper fell out the pocket. Curious to what it was, and also for the sake of not littering, I picked it up. One the front, written in black ink was one word. Winchester. I had no idea what it meant, I knew I hadn’t had it the last time I could really remember anything, so whatever had happened this must be important.
My first priority had to be water. My mouth was drier than the Sahara desert and from the headache I had I knew I wouldn’t be any good without some water at least. I had to find some kind of civilisation. A drink of water, a bathroom and maybe even someone to tell me what the hell Winchester meant? So, I started walking. At first I decided to walk towards the car sounds, sure enough there was a round but no one stopped. I had to keep walking, who knows how far it was to the next town or if I was even going the right way?
ooh this one was a little tougher, it’s not deckerstar heavy - sorry about that!
44. “Cuddle me.”
Lucifer somehow finds himself on babysitter duty. The Detective is immensely grateful, of course, but Lucifer still stares down at Trixie disgruntled. Dinner was easy, Chloe had laid out a list of things Trixie would eat and Lucifer had cooked one of them, though he added a little bit of flair to it. The spawn had been uncertain in the change, but after trying it, appeared to enjoy it.
Now they were engaged in watching a movie on the couch with blankets and popcorn. Trixie crawls into his lap and he stiffens.
“What are you doing, you insidious creature?” he asks, as she curls up.
“Cuddle me.” Trixie requests, a tad petulantly. He brings his arms around her woodenly, awkward. Trixie huffs. “That’s not how you do it. Haven’t you ever cuddled with anyone?”
Lucifer doesn’t think his night time escapades count and the Detective would surely think it inappropriate to speak of them to the girl.
“My mother cradled me in her expanse when I was very young.” he recalls.
Trixie gives him a narrow eyed look. “But that was a long time ago.”
“Ages.” Lucifer agrees.
“Here.” Trixie directs, grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm in tighter. He allows this grievous violation of his personal autonomy and moves along with her guidance. She mimics the motion with his other arm until he’s wrapped around her. She settles back against his chest and he automatically tightens his hold. “There.” she chirrups happily.
“Comfortable?” he asks dryly, but she merely nods and reaches for her popcorn bowl, settling it in the natural valley of her folded legs. She’s small and warm and he feels oddly protective in this position. It’s a little like when Amenadiel would branch his wings out, covering him when he was very small.
He reaches over for a blanket and, with a little maneuvering, drapes it along his shoulders and down either side, mimicking the cocooning effect of feathers.
When Chloe comes home, she spots him on the couch. “Where’s Trixie?” she asks, curious. Trixie’s head pops out from under Lucifer’s chin.
“Mommy!” she scrambles out of Lucifer’s lap and runs over.
Chloe does not laugh at how cute they are. She doesn’t, okay? She just got something caught in her throat is all. Lucifer looks a little affronted and slowly unwinds his limbs from around the child.
Trixie is regaling her with an excited play by play of her evening with Lucifer, while he clicks the tv off and carefully folds the blankets. Chloe sends Trixie off to brush her teeth before bed and takes a moment to study him. He seems somewhat subdued, something wistful in his face.
He may say he’s not one for domestics, but her neatly folded pile of blankets and her happy kid say otherwise. He’s made his way to the door and slung on his suit jacket, clearly ready to make a quick exit.
Chloe reaches out and touches his elbow. “Hey, thanks for watching her tonight. I know it was short notice.”
“Your offspring is singularly tolerable. It was no great sacrifice.” he asserts.
“Still.” Chloe insists.
“Then you are welcome, Detective.”
She steps forward and hugs him. His arms come around her much easier and he actually returns some of the pressure, drawing the contact out. When she pulls back he looks thoughtful, but tucks it behind a smile.
“Goodnight, Chloe.” he says.
“Goodnight.” she responds, and closes the door quietly behind him.