Chapter Text
Lucifer didn't know when it had happened, but he had fallen in love with you.
That wasn't a surprise to him.
You were calm, rational, and you always thought things through before you acted. He admired your thirst for knowledge—even though it did sometimes get you into trouble, and he appreciated that you were willing to put him in his place when he was being too harsh with his brothers or with himself.
He liked you.
It was only natural that he would fall in love with you.
The first time Lucifer realized his affection for you was during your first year-long stay at the House of Lamentation.
As with everything, Lucifer was controlling with you at first.
He kept tabs on you, noticed which brothers you took a liking to, and took note of how you spent your days.
It was all a part of The Experiment, after all.
To have one magician—Solomon—who only wanted to wring demons dry fall all that they were worth, and to have you—another magician—who couldn't care less for demons live in the Devildom for one year. Two extremes. The Prince and Lucifer wanted to study humans and their motivations. They wanted to see if there really could be a relationship between the three kingdoms by evaluating two humans on complete opposites of the spectrum.
Lucifer had bet to Diavolo that it would be only a matter of time before you showed your true colours and started forming pacts to further your own power.
...
It was during one of your nightly check-ins that Lucifer found himself at ease with you.
It was eight months into your stay, and the two of you settled into a routine of sorts. You would sit on the couch in his office, and the moment you entered—8:00pm sharp—Lucifer would find himself exhaling a tense breath and with it, he released all the worries of the day. This was your time. Lucifer didn't need to maintain the stoic, ruthless persona.
He could allow himself to relax.
Lucifer liked how determined you were. He admired your courage and your ability to just be yourself.
You were never ashamed to admit when you didn't know something or to admit when you were wrong.
You didn't care to be palatable, but you were also kind. Soft. You handled everything you did with such care and devotion; it impressed the reserved man.
You were caring and you had this incredible ability to make him feel at ease.
He didn't just feel like you heard him when he spoke. He felt listened to. Understood.
In your insistence to be yourself—letting the rest of the world be damned in what they thought of you—it made him feel comfortable for him to let his walls down every so slightly and be himself in return. At least, while the two of you were alone. He couldn't imagine letting his true colours show so wantonly as you did. He didn't want to find out what the consequences for such an action would be.
Lucifer found himself softening in your presence.
In the late hours of the night, he found that he could forget his manners and you wouldn't mind in the slightest.
The first few times, he had done it on purpose; he had made himself seem more tired than he was to see what you would do. Would you try to seduce him into doing your bidding? Or would you try to lull him into a contract with you? How would you pounce on him?
But, alas, there never was any pouncing.
You would chat with him, laugh. You would sip the wine he poured you and you too would yawn when the hour got too late. He always offered for you to stay with him in his bed—wanting to see if you would try anything wicked in your sleep—but you always declined. While you did accept the couch a few times—and Lucifer would always convince you to take the bed instead while he would take the couch—most nights, you would insist on sleeping in your own bed, and Lucifer would walk you to your room. He would bid you goodnight, and he would walk back to his. It was a comfortable routine.
What had been so different tonight?
Tonight, Lucifer had found himself glancing at the clock.
7:31pm.
Then 7:49pm.
Then 8:01pm.
Where were you?
Although he would never admit it, Lucifer was looking forward to seeing you. He appreciated hearing about your experiences, and he also appreciated having a sympathetic ear to complain to during hard days.
The two of you became sort of friends behind the protection of his door.
It would take Lucifer a few years to realize that his want for you to be on time tonight was different from his usual controlling behaviour. He didn't just want to stick to his schedule.
He missed you.
And he wanted to see you.
You were two minutes late to your check-in.
You stumbled in with a crash and Lucifer looked up from his desk as nonchalantly as he could—as if he wasn't holding his breath and counting the seconds for you to arrive.
“I know, I’m late. I’m so sorry. Asmo kept me. I was trying to scrub off all the glitter from my face so I wouldn't blind you tonight.” You were still rubbing at your eyes when you sat down at your usual spot.
“It’s alright. I didn't notice.” Lucifer took off his glasses and looked at you. You had faded eyeliner around your eyes that had been half-wiped off. A bit of shimmery red lipstick still clung to the left corner of your mouth. You were breathtaking, as always. But Lucifer knew better than to trust beauty.
And yet, Lucifer couldn't tell you what possessed him to make the decision.
Lucifer grabbed a packet of wet wipes from his bottom desk drawer and made his way around to hand it to you. You took it from him with a ‘thanks’ and he sat next to you on the couch. Sure, he could've gone back to his desk, but had he really wanted to sit there and not next to you, he wouldn't have gotten up in the first place. He would've just placed the tissues on the desk for you to grab.
No.
Lucifer wanted an excuse to sit next to you. To look into your kind eyes up close.
“So, how was your day?” That was how he opened all of your nightly conversations.
“Sparkly, clearly.”
Lucifer smiled. A genuine smile. He liked that you got along with his brothers; all of their personalities so different. Asmo was the hardest to figure out, but clealry he liked you if he was giving you makeovers.
Lucifer sat back on the armrest and turned his body towards you, using the back of the sofa to rest his arm on. He loosened his tie; there was no need to keep up appearances. Not now.
“I’m sorry that Asmodeus held you hostage. I too have fallen victim to his... creative moods.” Lucifer poured you a glass of wine and one for himself. He couldn't get intoxicated by human wine like you could, but it made him feel connected to you. He didn't want to drink the God’s ambrosia; your opposing drinks would just further emphasize how different the two of you were. He wanted to feel like an equal. So he drank the human wine.
“No need to apologize. I just wish we had done anything other than sparkles. I know how much you love it when I make a mess in your office.”
Lucifer found himself being honest when he responded with, “I don't mind.”
He took a wipe and brought it to the corner of your mouth. You stilled as he cleaned away the last of the lipstick.
Normally, Lucifer would chastise himself for forgetting his manners—he hadn't even asked permission before touching you. But this was you, after all.
And he was enjoying himself too much to care.
...
When you left your first year-long stay, Lucifer didn't think much of it. Of course you would return to your life on Earth. The Experiment was over. And the good people of your city needed their healer back.
He just didn't expect it to affect him so much.
It was hard for Lucifer to transition from having someone to talk to each night back to his reserved persona. He had gotten a taste of a trusting, nonjudgmental relationship for the first time in his life, and he wanted it back more than anything.
It wasn't that Lucifer didn't want to trust others.
He did.
It was that he couldn't.
He didn't let himself get too close to Diavolo because of his contract to him—Lucifer's servitude in exchange for Lilith's reincarnation. He couldn't trust the man because he was bound to him. He didn't want to give Diavolo any sort of access into his inner mind; he wouldn't put it past Diavolo to play the long game no matter how much Diavolo tried to gain his favour.
His brothers were... his brothers. He couldn't be honest with them. Vulnerable. He was the eldest. He had to shoulder his burden alone.
And humans were all the same. Power-hungry and eager to be seduced by something more than themselves.
Well.
All but one.
That was how Lucifer made his decision to visit you on Earth.
He wanted to say that it wasn't a decision that he made lightly. That he toiled over it for months; deciding between his work and between seeing you again.
But he knew that was a lie.
It would take Lucifer some time before he could recognize what this new feeling was. It started in his chest and flowed throughout the rest of his body with each beat of his heart.
It was love, of course.
But who would tell him that?
When Lucifer showed up to your little cottage, you couldn't say that you were surprised.
And Lucifer had his speech all planned out.
He would use the excuse that now that you were gone, his brothers were much too rowdy without you to keep them in check and he couldn't possibly relax with how much trouble they were causing. No. Lucifer needed a quiet spot to finish up his work for the night—although he had conveniently forgotten all of his work in the Devildom.
He would ask to come in and he would say that he just needed ten minutes to clear his head.
That he'd be gone before you knew it.
Lucifer didn't have the chance to even open his mouth. Not that he would if he could have. Seeing you so cozy in your sweater made him want to gather you up in his arms and never let go.
As quickly as you had opened the door, you spoke:
“Oh! Hi Lucifer! I hope you weren't lying when you said you liked my carrot & lentil soup when I made it a few months back, because that's what we’re having for dinner. Come on in. Watch your step though, the tile cracked this morning when I—well... I’m sure you can guess how I cracked it.”
Lucifer was taken aback. He wasn't expecting to be greeted by you so kindly. Lucifer had admittedly lost his snapped at you a few times with you during your year-long stay at the House, and you had met his energy and challenged him back; something he wasn't used to.
“Don't yell at me. If you want to talk, you can talk, but don't think that if you get louder, I’ll understand you any better,” you had told him.
Or: “It was a mistake! What, you’ve never made a mistake in your life? I’m learning how to exist in an entirely new culture! A new world. I’m sorry that I got myself into that situation, but I truly did not think that it would turn out like that.”
While you were six-hundred and twenty-four years old—forever stuck in the body of the twenty-two-year-old you who had swallowed the falling shooting star which had granted you powers as well as immortality—you were also a damn strong person.
He had never gone so far as to lose his temper with you as he did with his brothers, but he was a bit... brash.
More than he liked to admit.
He felt ashamed of how monstrous he had behaved even if in reality, it was just a few discourteous remarks made in passing. A few chastising words along the lines of: “you should have known better,” or “I expected more from you,” was the worst Lucifer had ever said to you, really. But seeing you welcome him so warmly to him now into your sanctuary—outside of the protection of The Experiment—made Lucifer feel horrible.
You didn't deserve how he treated you.
How could he have been so stupid?
Lucifer spent the rest of the night apologizing.
He had apologized once right after he entered, again when you spooned the soup into bowls, and once more when he washed up the dishes.
Each time, you told him that you forgave him—that you had forgiven him long ago. That you couldn't even begin to understand the pressure he was under oscillating between trying to protect his brothers and trying to do his work. That stress made monsters of the best of us.
But still, he continued to apologize. He wasn't used to being forgiven for nothing in return. Lucifer had lived his entire life confined within the restrictions of actions and consequences.
The proper protocol for a demon who had transgressed against a human was to make a deal with the party they had faulted. But you didn't want to make a deal with him. You knew how much he valued his independence. It wouldn't even cross your mind to ask.
And the fact that you didn't ask was all the more reason for Lucifer to feel confused. In all your time at the House, you hadn't asked him for a single thing
In the past, others had asked him for wealth and for power—Solomon included. The most you had asked him to do was clarify a concept from a spellbook or to pass the salt.
He wasn't used to being in the company of someone who was so... independent? No, that wasn't the right word. Someone so selfless .
He didn't know how to act. He didn't know how to apologize for misjudging you.
The evening passed in easy conversation. It had only been about three weeks since you left, after all. The two of you still had your easy rapport.
You tried your best to ease... whatever was worrying Lucifer. You could feel his tenseness. And you could feel the gears in his mind turning away.
It was then that you had The Idea.
“You know,” you started, “you’re always more than welcome to stay here.”
Lucifer looked at you and straightened his back.
You continued:
“To get away from your brothers, of course. That's why you're so tense, isn't it? Well, you could come here in the evenings and go back to the Devildom to sleep. You could relax here a bit. Away from it all. Let someone take care of you for a change.”
To say that Lucifer was shocked would be an understatement.
He was the Avatar of Pride!
An eldest brother and second only to Prince Diavolo.
He did not need to be taken care of!
And yet...
He was curious to learn more about you. Your motivations. Your hopes. Your dreams.
And he did enjoy spending time with you.
Could he really let down his guard?
You gave him a small smile, and that was all the persuasion he needed. Lucifer never could deny you.
In that moment, all the stars in all of the skies could not compare to the beauty of your eyes.
He felt a spark of lightning shoot down his back as he looked at you. He had to turn away lest he burn up under your gaze.
Had you always been so beautiful?
Lucifer cleared his throat before speaking:
"Alright."
...
Currently, it was about two-hundred and forty-six years after your initial meeting.
Lucifer was making breakfast, you were still waking up.
The two of you had fallen into an easy routine. He would come home to you in the evenings, the two of you would cook, eat dinner, then go to bed. In the morning, you would wake in each other’s arms and one of you—always Lucifer—would make breakfast before the two of you would head off to your respective jobs. Then the evening would come, and the routine would start once more.
Lucifer—who had assumed the workload of all seven brothers after his deal with Diavolo instead of sharing it equally as it was supposed to be—had begun to trust his brothers enough to let them help him with his work. Consequently, that meant that Lucifer had a lot more free time now.
This morning, you came up behind him, wrapped your arms around his waist, and yawned into his ear. It was winter, but Lucifer was a demon.
He obviously he ran hot.
So, Lucifer had just changed into a pair of your sweatpants to sleep in; wearing nothing else.
“G’morning,” he said. He was standing at the stove and he fed you a piece of the sausage he was frying. He took a bite of it after you.
“Morning.”
“I might be a bit late tonight. Depends on how early the meeting wraps.”
You yawned again. “That's fine. Just don't forget the orange newt powder. We’re running low.”
“Text and remind me?”
“Mm,” you made a noise of agreement before Lucifer fed you another bite. He plated the food—you clinging to him the entire time—and the two of you ate. It was comfortable. And it was nice.
It was perfect.
...
And so, the centuries passed with the two of you in comfort.
Lucifer’s change in personality was immediate. And it was noticeable.
Everyone in the Devildom noticed how quick Lucifer was to smile and how inclined he was to offer a kind word.
Gone were the days of Tiger Mom Lucifer.
Lucifer became a friend to his brothers. When they screwed up—as you warned him they inevitably would—Lucifer took your advice. He no longer tried to bully them into submission; punishing them relentlessly. Instead, he loosened the reins. And—as you had told him would happen—they stopped rebelling. They stopped going behind his back.
One by one, they began to trust him. To like him. To actually enjoy spending time with him.
Lucifer had become a beacon of light in the Devildom, six-hundred and eighty years after your initial meeting.
And it was all thanks to you.
...
Currently, Lucifer was in a terrible mood. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something.
Most importantly, he wanted to kill.
It was nine-hundred and ninety-eight years after your initial meeting, and Lucifer was a man possessed.
Yesterday, the two of you were linking pinkies while you took notes during meetings and holding hands during lunch.
And now, you were talking to him.
You had spent the entire morning talking to Satan of all people.
Although Lucifer had calmed down a considerable amount over the past thousand years, Satan still knew exactly how to get under Lucifer’s skin. And he was succeeding.
Satan was brushing your hair behind your ears, making you laugh, and just overall charming you.
Lucifer could feel the jealousy bubble in his chest and climb up his throat; gathering in his mouth and forming itself into words that he was just able to hold back.
Lucifer had heard bits of your conversation. Some up-and-coming alchemist had published a follow-up play to the one the two of you had gone to see a few years ago.
Lucifer didn't mind you getting close to his brothers. He welcomed it, in fact.
It was the touching he wanted less of.
...
When Lucifer came to get you for lunch, Mammon had his arm around your shoulder. Lucifer shot a look at Mammon and Mammon pretended not to see it.
"Darling love, should we not leave for tea soon?" Lucifer asked; making a point not to invite Mammon.
You opened your mouth to speak, but Mammon beat you to it.
"We're going out for tacos," Mammon smiled a toothy smirk, "and you're not invited," he said to Lucifer.
Lucifer ignored him. He spoke directly to you as if Mammon wasn't there.
"Dearest, I believe we already had plans—"
"Too bad! You two still don't have a pact, right? Well, that means that I can steal the human whenever I want to. See ya!"
You offered Lucifer a small smile before Mammon took your hand and dragged you away.
Lucifer wasn't one to get jealous; he had complete faith in you...
It was harder to hold his words back that time.
But he did.
Fine, at least you had dinner.
...
The absolute last straw was Asmodeus.
It was forty minutes before your dinner reservations and Lucifer was fuming.
You had messaged him and told him where you were and what you were doing.
Currently, you were sitting on Asmo's 'Throne' as he called it—his comfy chair in front of his vanity that he did his make-up in every morning.
Asmo was behind you while you sat; combing your hair. Braiding small braids into it here and there.
Asmo kept his door wide open so that he could hear Lucifer coming down the hall and enact the last part of the plan.
"You would make an excellent demon, my dear," Asmo said, loud enough so that Lucifer could also hear it as he walked in.
"Mm, I don't think I have the bone structure," you joked. You nodded a 'hey' to Lucifer. You could sense that he was pissed off, but you were a bit too relaxed to care right now.
Asmo smirked.
He knew exactly what to do.
Asmo grabbed your face by the chin and turned your head; forcing you to look at him.
The position was intimate; with you looking up at Asmo and him bringing his other hand to cup your cheek.
Lucifer growled at him in warning. "Asmo. Let go."
"What? I'm just looking at the bone structure. Which, by the way, is excellent." Asmo did his best to purr the compliment as he closed the distance between the two of your faces. He wasn't daring enough to actually kiss you; every demon in the three worlds knew better than to make a move on you lest they wanted to face the wrath of Lucifer. But, he could make it seem like he was going to.
"I won't repeat myself," Lucifer thundered. It made you jump before remembering that this was your Lucifer.
It was in that moment exactly that Lucifer understood why he was so protective over you. Why he wanted to spend every moment—waking and sleeping—with you.
He loved you.
Asmo continued: “Please. It’s not like you and the magician are married . I don't see a ring on that hand, and until there is, I say it’s fair game to fight for nymph's heart.”
There it was.
The phrase Asmo had to practice two hundred and twelve times before the others thought it rolled off of his tongue casually yet threateningly.
Had the brothers come up with a plan to put you and Lucifer together because they were tired of seeing the two of you coo at each other and wanted you to just kiss already? Yes.
Did they also want to see their brother happy? Also yes.
Lucifer grabbed your hand and pulled you into his office; the place that started it all.
He closed the door and pushed you against the wall; caging you in with your arms. You barely had time to catch your breath before he spoke:
“Asmo’s right.”
“Lucifer—”
"Make a contract with me."
“Lucifer, that's totally unnecessary—”
“Kiss me. Marry me." Lucifer begged.
“I...” You could feel the heat of his body as it pressed against yours; the beating of his heart. He buried his face into your shoulder and inhaled your scent to calm him.
You wanted nothing more than to kiss him, but the two of you had planned out your futures together as coworkers. Not spouses. Could you really—?
Lucifer interrupted: “Seal the contract. All you need to do is kiss me. I’ll be at your complete mercy. I’ll be yours, alone. And you’ll be mine.”
“Marriage between a human and a demon has never happened it could—”
“—Be whatever we want it to be.”
“—Backfire.”
Lucifer’s heart dropped then. “Do you not want me?”
“I... I do, Lucifer. Believe me, I do. But—”
“ Then please .” Lucifer called your name and inched closer to you; his lips brushing yours. All you had to do was lean in...
“... Eternity’s a long time, Lucifer.”
“And I would spend it with you.”
“... So that would be the contract? You would be completely faithful to me and I would be faithful to you?”
“Until the end of time.”
You sighed.
Eternity was a long time...
But so was the past thousand years.
So.
You kissed him.