Author's Note:
Written for this prompt from the lovely ficwriterjet at the Holiday Bingo
at Livejournal:
Lucifer: Chloe/Lucifer - Chloe finds out that Lucifer's marriage to 'Candy'
was all a ruse. In my head I see this as Chloe being hurt and upset, and
telling Lucifer she doesn't want to work with him anymore, and then Lucifer
eventually suggesting a punishment so that he can get back in her good
graces, but it doesn't have to go down that way for me to be happy.
Summary:
Chloe is hurt after realising that Lucifer’s marriage to Candy had been a
ruse. She feels betrayed and doesn’t want to work with him anymore. Lucifer
makes an unusual proposition to get back in her good graces.
Disclaimer
: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from
this story.
Warnings
: Consensual spanking of an adult.
There were so many different emotions coursing through her at the moment, Chloe wasn’t even sure what she felt. She had been worried, when Lucifer had just disappeared without a word while she was still recovering at the hospital. He didn’t call, didn’t text, didn’t respond in any way to her many attempts to reach him. His apartment deserted, white sheets draping his furniture, when she had come in search for him. She’d felt desolate and troubled at his sudden unheralded departure.
Then he’d returned, an exotic dancer on his arm, acting like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t been gone for two weeks! Just as oblivious to her worry as he was towards any human emotion. He told her that he’d married the hooker – no, exotic dancer – and made no comment about her almost death, their relationship or his absence. Pretended that they were just partners solving crime.
She had been hurt and a feeling of betrayal had taken root deep inside her, when Lucifer had returned with Candy – his wife.
She had masked her feelings by lashing out, conversing them into anger instead. Anger was much easier to deal with than pain. And she had every right to be angry! You don’t just abandon your partner! Your friend! She’d told him as much, but Lucifer, in his Luciferness, hadn’t understood what the big deal was. Or pretended to. But the tip of the colossal iceberg that constituted their fucked-up relationship had been when he’d let slip that the marriage had been a sham. She’d momentarily lost her breath; her vision swaying as his words sucker-punched her in the stomach. He had married to get away from her. Chloe was relatively certain that it couldn’t possibly get any worse than this. She sometimes wondered if his lack of understanding and regard of human emotions was an affliction caused by neglect and abuse throughout childhood or if he had simply decided that dealing with those emotions proved to be too much of a hassle to bother.
It had been a stressful day and Chloe wanted nothing more than to go home and spend some quality time with Trixie. Unfortunately that wasn’t an option tonight, since her daughter was at Dan’s. So she opted to bundle up under her favourite blanket, enjoy a nice cup of tea and not think about unruly civilian consultants who married ditsy bimbos for some greater good.
The cause for her current bad mood was however still hovering next to her desk. She’d told him to go home hours ago, but he refused. Just as she had refused point-blank to listen to his explanations. It hadn’t stopped him though. And Chloe couldn’t not listen. So now she knew. Something about a family feud, of course. It was always about his fucked-up family. His mother trying to manipulate him, as always. His father forcing him to be someone he was not, nothing new there.
Although normally gone with the first whiff of boring paperwork, Lucifer had chosen today of all days to stick around. She threw him another dark look – the only indication that she acknowledged his presence at all. Satisfied that he at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed, she returned her attention to the report in front of her, ticking off a few boxes.
Lucifer for his part remained uncharacteristically quiet. Had been ever since he finished his tale of manipulative mothers and overbearing fathers. No babbling about topics that had absolutely nothing to do with their work, no swivelling of the desk chair, no other annoying noises to distract her. In fact, today he didn’t need to. Chloe was plenty distracted by her own thoughts. His reveal about his sham of a marriage had done a splendid job of occupying her mind. She still couldn’t believe that it had all been a ruse! Some elaborate plot to fool his dysfunctional family!
As if running of to marry a hooker wasn’t bad enough all on its own. No, trust Lucifer to take it one more step further and fake-marry a prostitute. How could she trust him again after this? Leaving right after he had saved her life; after they’ve had … something. This moment. How could she have been so stupid to let herself have feelings for him? To think that they could be … what? Lovers? Maybe. Definitely friends though. His distrust hurt her more than she’d like to admit. Damn him! She forcefully put her pen down, deciding that she’d call it a day. It was late and she’d stayed only because the house was empty without Trixie in it.
“Do you want to, I don’t know, chat about it or something?” Lucifer asked carefully as she angrily gathered the strewn papers on her desk, arranging them in neat piles.
“What is there to talk about?” she shot back without looking at him, smoothing out edges of the papers that didn’t quite survive her wrath unscathed.
“How should I know?” he replied and Chloe had to use considerable willpower to not snap her pencil at his petulant tone! As if he had any right to feel anything else but repentant! God, sometimes she wished that she could slap some sense into him. “But I’ve come to realise that you humans seem to spend a good deal of your time talking about things. – While I personally think that most of it should be dealt with in bed – not thinking or talking about it.” Chloe threw him an exasperated look. “That offer is still on the table, by the way.”
“No, I don’t want to talk about it, because there is nothing to talk about,” Chloe said with some heat in her voice, ignoring his come-on. “I thought we were friends, Lucifer.”
“We were – we are!” he said quickly, leaning towards her.
“Friends don’t hurt each other like that,” she replied sadly. “I thought you trusted me.”
“I do trust you, Detective,” he said in a small voice.
“You know, sometimes actions speak louder than words and your actions told me all I need to know.” Chloe had to avert her gaze to hide the tears in her eyes. Dammit, she did not want to start crying now. He did not deserve to see how much he’d hurt her. Taking a deep breath and willing the treacherous tears back down, she took a moment to collect herself before turning back to face him.
“Detective, I’m sorry,” Lucifer said, his hand reaching out to touch her arm, but she drew it back. He looked hurt at her dismissal. Serves him right, Chloe thought. “I … I don’t know what to say to make this better,” he admitted in a strangled voice.
“You can’t say anything, Lucifer,” she replied stonily. “I just don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” His expression seemed to shatter at her words. The façade of the suave club owner crumbling before her eyes, leaving behind a broken and saddened man. She had to steel her heart for her next words. Words she had been dreading to say all evening. But she found no other way out.
“I’m gonna apply for a new partner tomorrow,” she said with a finality in her voice she didn’t really feel. It hurt her beyond belief to do so. An icy fist grabbing her heart and squeezing it too tight settled in her chest, spreading its cold. And Lucifer’s surprised and hurt look did not help at all (How did a grown man manage to look like a kicked puppy?). But then again, it had been Lucifer who had pushed her to do this. She liked working with him. Enjoyed their banter, his weird way of looking at things and their unique counterbalance. And dammit, they were good together! But she felt so hurt, so betrayed by his behaviour. She just couldn’t stand to look at him every day anymore and wonder when he would cause her pain again. When he chose that keeping her in the dark was the best course of action.
When he didn’t trust her .
“But, Detective,” he started, standing with her and ignoring her vehement head-shaking. “I’m sure there is another way!”
“There isn’t,” she replied, watching as his face crumbled some more and forcing her tears down. “You hurt me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said feebly, his gaze dropping to his feet momentarily, shoulders slouched, hands wringing. He looked pitiful. And Chloe felt a pang of sympathy and the sudden urge to wrap him in a tight embrace and tell him that everything would be alright. Suddenly she was not so sure that this was the right thing to do anymore.
“Me too,” she said softly with a determination she didn’t feel anymore. His eyes found hers again, and again she had to steel her heart. It was the right thing to do.
“Detective, please,” he said, desperation plain in his voice. “It was never my intention to hurt you.”
“And yet you did.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. Lucifer made another move to touch her, but stopped himself and let his hands fall to his sides.
“Sometimes sorry just isn’t enough,” she replied softly, gathering her things.
“There must be something I can do,” he said desperately, a hand mussing up his perfectly-styled hair; another clear sign that he was seriously distraught. He seemed deep in thought for a few short moments and she waited for him to speak again. Because truth be told, she really hoped he would come up with an idea to save their partnership. “Would it help, if I faced some kind of correction for my missteps?” he finally asked timidly. “Punishment perhaps?”
“What? You think this can be absolved by a slap on the wrist?” she asked incredulously, eyebrows raised and feeling stupid all of a sudden to have thought that he’d actually take this seriously.
“No, no,” he was quiet to concede. “But since you mentioned slapping…”
“You want me to slap you?” Chloe asked perplexed. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Well, ‘want’ is a very strong word,” he hedged looking down at his fiddling hands and frowning at their constant movement that he seemed to have no control over. “But you seem to think that I must atone in some way for what I’ve done. – And I agree,” he added quickly as her eyes narrowed. “I believe a spanking is still a common enough form of correction on earth?” Chloe’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief at his proposition.
“Absolutely not!” she exclaimed vehemently. “I’m not going to play into some weird BDSM fantasy you have and help you get a kick out of this whole fiasco.” She couldn’t help the blush that spread on her cheeks just thinking about it.
“No, no,” Lucifer stammered quickly, shifting his weight from foot to foot in apparent discomfort. What did he have to be uncomfortable about? “I don’t mean for fun. – Although make-up sex is always on the table,” he added with a leer that lacked its usual intensity and vanished immediately at her furious expression. “I was thinking of a punishment – not something I enjoy, let me assure you.”
“You think if I punish you, this whole problem is just going to dissolve?” she asked incredulously. Did he seriously just proposition a spanking to resolve all this? But as she thought about it, the proposal wasn’t totally surprising. He did tell her to give him a ‘right good spanking’ once before. Although she had assumed at the time that he had been trying to jest her.
“No, not solve the problem per se,” he explained. “But, Detective, just think about this for a moment, would you?” She gave him her patented ‘fine, I will amuse you by playing along in your little fantasy’-look and prompted him with a little wave of her hand. “You believe that I did something wrong – something that hurt you.” He paused to look imploringly at her and Chloe gave a stiff nod. “And while I did have good reasons -” Her gaze darkened considerably. “Bad deeds incur punishment. I am an expert in this field, believe me.” Chloe just gave a derisive snort. “So I am offering you to punish me – as you see fit – for the wrongs I’ve done to you. To help you to forgive me?” She opened her mouth to respond in a quick but decisive negative, but he cut her off before even the first syllable left her mouth. “But please don’t aban… apply for a new partner.”
He looked so distraught standing in front of her; dark brown eyes imploring her to take his offer, but to keep him as a partner, not to abandon him. And despite better judgement – much better judgement – she actually found herself thinking about his proposal. She liked working with him. And she already hated herself for making him think that she would abandon him. Feeding into the fears that had been rooted deep inside of him by the shortcomings of his parents – his family.
But still? Punishment? She’d be lying if she said that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind once or twice (or twelve times) during the years they’ve been working together. But he was an adult! Responsible for his own actions! And the adult thing to do would be severing their ties. Find a new partner – a more reliable one.
But therein lay the main problem: Chloe didn’t want a new partner! She wanted Lucifer – in a more reliable version. Maybe the threat of unpleasant consequences would get him to straighten up? Even mind proper police procedure and curve his impulsive nature? Make him think about his health – his mortality? And maybe even mind her? Trust her? She felt as conflicted as she’d never had before in her life. But a spanking? Lucifer was a grown man. Admittedly a sometimes very strange grown man, who had no concern for his safety most of the time and behaved like an absolute child on a regular basis… but spanking him? Really? She didn’t even have any experience with this. She’d never been on the receiving end, much less the other one. She needed time to think!
Looking at Lucifer’s nervous and expectant face did make her come to the conclusion that she most definitely did not want to lose him as a partner. Heaving a sigh, she pressed her fingers to her eyes momentarily. God, she was so going to regret this!
“Fine,” she finally agreed, looking up just in time to see relief spread across Lucifer’s face; although the tension in the small lines around his mouth and eyes remained. “I agree that you deserve some form of … punishment.” He looked both relieved and nervous at her declaration; a combination that to Chloe’s chagrin made him look terribly endearing. Shaking her head slightly to rid herself of the sentiment, she went on, “But I need time to think this through.” Regarding him sternly for a few moments, she noted with a sense of satisfaction that the thought of facing repercussions did at least make him apprehensive. Maybe this would not turn out to be a complete disaster?
“By all means, take all the time you need, Detective,” he blurted out, obviously not able to stand the tense silence any longer. He fidgeted under her stern gaze, but made a memorable, if unsuccessful, effort to stand still and keep his hands stable.
“I’ll meet you at your place in an hour,” she decided and he gave a terse nod. “You will go straight home. – No stops to entertain yourself otherwise. Neither at Lux nor some other place. You do not deserve to frolic while I ponder this.” He did manage to look affronted at her words, but remained silent. “Also there will be no booze. If I decide to punish you, I want you sober. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” he answered with a small nod. “I’ll be waiting at the penthouse.”
“Anything you’d like to add? Any suggestions?” she couldn’t help but ask, hoping that he’d offer some other form of correction that didn’t have her insides twisting in nervous discomfort.
“I believe I made a fitting suggestion already,” he replied quietly barely able to still the nervous trembling of his hands. And Chloe knew that he’d be longing for a drink as soon as the quiet and tense wait in his penthouse got uncomfortable, but she also knew with certainty that he’d mind her orders and refrain from drinking.
“That you did,” she breathed heavily. “Go on then.” She made a shooing notion with her hand and he complied, leaving with an uncertainty in his step that was so uncommon for him that Chloe felt another pang of sympathy. “Straight home,” she added as an afterthought, Mom Voice firmly in place, watching as he turned his head to give her a small nod.
As he was out of sight, Chloe let herself fall back into the desk chair. Cradling her head in her arms on the desk, she wondered how on earth she had got roped into this. How was she even going to do this? Didn’t she have other options? Seriously, she’d take just about any offer right about now.
Closing her eyes tightly, she jogged her brain into action with some difficulty. Punishment… what type of punishment would be fitting? Which kinds did she actually know? Very few to be exact. She could hardly put him in a time-out or ground him, as she did to Trixie if she misbehaved. He was an adult. Even if he didn’t behave like one. She could make him remain sober for a few weeks. But who’d supervise this? She hardly had the time to see her own daughter, much less to ascertain that her partner was staying abstinent. No, that wasn’t an option. She needed to find something swift while at the same time memorable.
Racking her brain for any other possibilities, she didn’t want to admit that her thoughts kept straying back to Lucifer’s ludicrous offer. Corporal punishment. Her reluctance towards following through with this raised the biggest issue. Could she do it? Probably. She felt angry enough to do it. And if she could, how would she do it? Since her brain refused any further assistance in finding alternative methods, she focused on the ‘how’.
“Oh, you’re so going to regret this, Decker,” she mumbled to herself, sitting up straight to mull over what had all the right signs to become disastrous. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Chloe decided that her friend google always knew the right answers. Opting to use her private mobile phone, because googling ‘spanking’ or ‘corporal punishment’ would probably raise a few red flags in the department, she went about her task with the analytical precision she tackled everything with.
To cut a long story short, she resumed, after half an hour of intense search, that some of the results were nothing less but disturbing and some pictures she’d probably never get out of her head again. But at least she had a vague idea of how to go about this task now. Checking the time, she realised that she had just about enough time to get to the penthouse. She didn’t want to keep Lucifer waiting any longer than she already had, assuming that he was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He only had the vaguest idea of what Chloe had planned and being made to wait with only his imagination for company probably counted as cruel and unusual punishment. Therefore she quickly gathered her belongings and left the precinct.
The drive over to the penthouse had her doubting her decision – several times. She told herself that it was the only way to keep Lucifer as a partner, channelling her anger and disappointment. They were great allies. She wanted to give him and herself closure. She’d just have to power through. She could do it.
She found Lucifer sitting on his couch in the vast living room, arms resting on his knees and head in his hands. He immediately sprang to his feet as the elevator announced her arrival. Chloe stepped into the penthouse, watching him closely as she deposited her belongings on the bar table. He looked as nervous as she felt. At least that makes two of us, she thought wryly, and hoped her own nervousness wasn’t showing.
“Detective,” he breathed lowly. He’d got rid of his suit jacket and waistcoat and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows. His hair looked mussed – as though he had tried to pull it out in frustration. She could relate to that.
“All right,” she said taking a deep breath. “Let’s not beat around the bush. – I accept your offer.” He looked relieved at that, his body posture relaxing slightly.
“I’m … glad,” he replied with a grimace and she couldn’t help but snort.
“But,” she started and saw him tense up again. “I have a few conditions.” Not wanting to leave him in suspense for long (or lose her courage), she plowed on, “You made the offer, but this is my show now. You do not get a say in how I do it, how long it’s gonna last or anything else you may think of.”
“I would never.” He nodded gravely and she believed him.
“Also, any quip about this being anything else except punishment and the deal is off,” she said firmly. “No sexual innuendos of any kind.”
“As you wish,” he merely stated. “But let me assure you, Detective, this is not a joking matter for me either.”
“Good to hear,” she replied, looking around the room to decide on the further logistics. Meanwhile Lucifer watched her agitatedly, shuffling his feet, fumbling with his rolled-up shirt-cuffs and buttons. This was not the self-assured man she had got used to.
“Do you…” he started but cut himself off again. She looked at him fiddling with his belt uncertainly. Her eyes widened.
“No!” she was quick to answer, shaking her head. “Not your belt.”
“What…” he cleared his throat nervously. “What would you like to use then?”
“Do you have a ruler?” she asked, her eyes darting to the desk that sat to the left of her, before settling back on Lucifer. He nodded, quickly walking past her to rummage through a drawer and retrieve a broad wooden ruler. He held it out to her without being prompted and she took it, testing its weight and sturdiness. It would work. Lucifer just regarded her wide-eyed. His eyes darting surreptitiously towards the ruler in her hands, as he fidgeted. His nervous energy was beginning to broadcast, therefore she decided to hurry before she’d lose her nerve.
“Where do you want me?” he asked, and with a small smile added, “I mean the logistics of settling me over your knees seem quite impractical.”
“That’s true,” Chloe said, voice stern, nodding towards the desk, since Lucifer was already standing right next to it and its surface was devoid of any objects. It had the right height for him to bend over without strain. It would do nicely, she decided. She moved the chair out of the way as he stepped up to the desk to follow her directive and Chloe had to steel herself for the next part.
“You need to lower your pants,” she said, feeling immensely glad that her voice didn’t waver. At Lucifer’s surprised look, she added, “I need to see what I’m doing. – I don’t want to cause any harm.” He only nodded once in understanding and shaky fingers started to work on his belt buckle, a blush slowly but surely creeping up his neck. Before this she wouldn’t have thought it possible that Lucifer Morningstar would ever feel embarrassed to drop trou. It took him a few tries until his fumbling hands managed to open his trousers. He threw her a quick glance and she turned her head away to give him some privacy before he pushed them down his long legs, shortly followed by the black boxer briefs. He immediately bent over, resting his forearms on the surface and Chloe stepped up to his side. One hand coming to rest comfortably on his back and gently but unrelentingly push him down until his chest rested on the desk. She flipped his shirttails up, before setting her hand on his back again.
“Are you ready?” she asked, looking at the back of his head.
“Yes,” he croaked, lifting his head slightly to be heard. “By all means, commence with the punishment.”
“Okay then,” she said and took another deep breath. “What’s this for?”
“Not trusting you,” he replied immediately. “And hurting you.”
“That’s right,” she agreed. “Partners don’t do that to each other.” He nodded once and Chloe directed her attention to her target. She gripped the ruler tightly, raised her arm and snapped it down firmly, covering both cheeks. Lucifer sucked in a breath and she lifted her hand again, noticing that the ruler had left a rosy line in its wake. Definitely the right amount of force, she decided, slapping the ruler down directly below the first line. Another hitched breath. She repeated the process several times, watching Lucifer’s reactions as closely as the marks she left behind with each smack. She hadn’t decided on a set amount of whacks, but would play this by ear. Reaching the top of his thighs, she brought the ruler down again, eliciting a very low pained groan from Lucifer, before she started at the top again.
Lucifer fisted his hands into his hair, his body twitching with each new smack that now covered skin that was already sore. But Chloe had to admit that he was enduring this with minimal fuss. She’d expected him to at least move around more. This must be hurting. His butt sure looked like it hurt. She patted him on the back once before whacking him again.
“You’re doing great,” she praised, because he did and she wanted to say something. The tense silence was making this whole ordeal inexplicably worse. He shuddered at her words, a pained gasp escaping before he seemed to clamp his mouth shut again, determined to endure this in silence. But after a few more sharp smacks, Chloe had to increase the strength in her hold on his back as he started to move involuntarily; his hips flinching away every time the ruler descended, although the table didn’t leave him much room to manoeuver. His breathing also turned decidedly ragged, only interrupted by the occasional groan of pain. Chloe had to steel herself to the sounds of his misery and forced her arm down and down again, painting his backside an ugly red.
“I’m sor- ow- sorry,” he pressed out, as she hit the crease where his butt met thigh the fifth time.
“I believe you,” she reassured him, but didn’t stop her assault. “Almost done.” An agonised groan escaped him upon hearing her words, followed by something Chloe could only describe as a soft sob, before he buried his face deeper into his arms in an obvious attempt to muffle his crying. She finished up with another few smacks to the undercurve of his butt, listening to Lucifer’s ragged breathing and hiccoughs, before putting the ruler down and running her hand soothingly up and down his heaving back.
“Shhh,” she murmured, stepping around the desk to be able to reach his head as well. She put her hand in his hair, stroking the short hair at the nape of his neck softly. He kept his face firmly hidden in his arms and hands, his body shuddering with each exhale. She continued her gentle reassurances for some time until his taut muscles relaxed slightly, then she gingerly snaked a hand into the bundle of arms and hands that was still tightly wrapped around his head. She found his chin and gently coerced him to look at her. He did. And Chloe immediately questioned her decision to have ever gone through with this. He looked absolutely miserable. His face was tear-stained; red-rimmed and bloodshed eyes refusing to look at her. Outwardly she tried to keep the gentle smile on her face to reassure him.
“Now, now, all’s done,” she said in a voice usually reserved for Trixie when she got hurt or ill. But the situation just called for it. “You’re forgiven.” And strangely enough even Chloe felt better. The anger and disappointment of course hadn’t completely disappeared but had lessened considerably. This had been the right course of action – even if Lucifer looked wretched. “Come on, up you go.” She helped him to his feet before turning to give him the privacy to readjust his clothing.
“I’m decent,” he finally said and she faced him again. He looked thoroughly unsure of himself, chastened and timid but also … relieved somehow. She assumed the relief was also palpable on her face. Giving in to the urge, she approached him quickly and engulfed him in a tight hug. He tensed up at first, as he did every time, but gradually relaxed and wrapped his arms around her.
“Don’t make me do that again,” she mumbled against his chest, immensely happy to feel him chuckle.
“I’ll do my utmost to avoid a repeat of this, don’t worry, Detective,” he replied and she drew back.
“I forgive you,” she said again, if only to make sure that he really got the message. She felt better. She had her partner back. And he had hopefully learned something from this experience and wouldn’t run off again unexpectedly to marry exotic dancers – at least not without telling her first. They would be able to move forward from this and rebuilt their trust in each other.
“I need a drink,” she finally declared, whirling around to choose something from his bar.
“Yes, me too,” he said with a chuckle.
The End