[Imagines] movies and series-insert reader

Drunk - Lucifer {Hazbin hotel}

Lucifer stumbled into the dimly lit street, his steps unsteady and his vision blurred from the alcohol that had coursed through his system all night. The usual arrogance in his stride had disappeared, replaced by a heaviness that made him lean into Y/n as she helped guide him home. His breath reeked of liquor, and every few steps he muttered something incoherent, his words slurred and tumbling over each other. Y/n, though used to Lucifer's excesses, had never seen him like this.

"Come on, Luci, just a bit further," she murmured, trying to keep her voice calm, even though a part of her was frustrated. It had been a long night, and she had hoped for something better than playing caretaker to her inebriated boyfriend.

He gave a low chuckle, barely able to stand without her support. "You... you always take care of me, don't ya, love?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, ignoring the pang in her chest. "Yeah, well, someone's gotta keep you from walking into walls." She nudged him gently toward the front door of his lavish apartment, fishing for the keys in her coat pocket.

Once inside, the place felt eerily empty, despite its grandeur. Lucifer kicked off his shoes, nearly tripping as he fumbled with them. Y/n sighed, her patience wearing thin, but she kept her composure as she helped him to his feet again.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Lucifer mumbled, his words barely audible as he staggered toward the bathroom.

Y/n nodded, relieved he could at least handle that on his own. She hung her coat by the door and set her keys down on the kitchen counter, the soft clink echoing in the stillness of the apartment. She allowed herself a moment of quiet, massaging her temples, wondering how she had ended up here again—always trying to hold him together when he seemed intent on falling apart.

The sound of running water soon filled the apartment, and Y/n leaned back against the counter, debating whether she should stay or leave. She didn't mind helping him, but this wasn't exactly the romantic night she'd hoped for. She sighed, pushing the thought aside, when she heard his voice call from the bathroom.

"Y/n?" It was a soft plea, almost vulnerable, so unlike the Lucifer she was used to. "Stay with me tonight... please."

She froze, unsure whether to laugh or be angry. "Lucifer, you're drunk. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

But he persisted, his voice thick with desperation. "No, stay... just this once. I... I don't wanna be alone tonight. Please."

Y/n closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She knew what he was doing. He always did this—pushed her away with his reckless behavior, then pulled her back when he realized he needed someone. But this time, there was something different in his tone. He wasn't just drunk. He sounded... afraid. Afraid of being alone, of facing whatever demons haunted him when the alcohol wore off.

She sighed deeply, running her hand through her hair. "Lucifer... I—" 

"Please," he cut her off, his voice cracking slightly.

It wasn't like him to beg, and that's what broke her. After a long pause, she relented. "Fine. I'll stay. But only because you won't stop whining about it."

The water stopped running, and moments later, Lucifer emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung loosely around his waist, water still dripping from his hair. His eyes, though glassy from the alcohol, were focused solely on her.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice softer now.

Y/n shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, though her heart was pounding in her chest. "Don't mention it. Just get some sleep."

Lucifer nodded, his usual cocky smirk absent as he padded over to her. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead, he just reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost tender, and Y/n found herself softening despite her better judgment.

She turned away before he could see the conflict in her eyes, heading toward the bedroom. "Get dressed, Luci. I'm not sleeping next to you half-naked."

Lucifer chuckled, the sound light but tired. "Yes, ma'am."

As he changed into something more appropriate, Y/n slipped into bed, the weight of the evening finally catching up to her. She stared at the ceiling, wondering if this was her life now—being the only one who could keep Lucifer together when he insisted on falling apart.

Lucifer crawled into bed beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight. For a moment, there was silence between them, the only sound being the soft breathing of the city outside the window.

Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, Lucifer whispered, "I'm sorry."

Y/n turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze in the dim light. She didn't respond right away, letting the words hang in the air. But eventually, she sighed, reaching out to take his hand.

"I know," she whispered back, squeezing his fingers gently. "Just... get some rest."

And for once, Lucifer didn't argue. He simply closed his eyes, his grip on her hand tightening as if afraid she'd slip away during the night.

But she didn't. Not this time.