You were sure the house was empty. The silence was comforting, a rare moment of peace in the chaos of living with seven demon brothers. With everyone supposedly out for the day, you decided to indulge in a little self-care. You locked the door, dimmed the lights, and let your body sink into the soft embrace of your bed.

Clothes were discarded. Fingers began to explore. Your breath came quicker, soft sounds slipping past your lips as your mind drifted—though, perhaps predictably, your thoughts wandered to him.

Lucifer.

The commanding voice, the sharp gaze, the way he always seemed in control. You imagined what it would be like if he caught you like this—just as the doorknob clicked.

Your heart stopped.

The door swung open with authority, and there he stood—Lucifer, framed by the dim hallway light, his crimson eyes locking onto yours the moment he entered.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

Your hand froze where it was, heat blooming across your cheeks. You scrambled for the blanket, but it was far too late.

His gaze traveled slowly over you, not with shock—but something darker. Lips curling into the faintest smirk, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

“So this is how you spend your time when you think you're alone,” he murmured, voice low and smooth like velvet over steel. “I came to check on you, not expecting to find such… a view.”

You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, to beg for the floor to swallow you whole—but he was already at the edge of your bed.

“No need to hide now,” he said, tilting your chin up with two gloved fingers. “If you needed relief, you could have called for me.”

His smile widened, gaze heated and unrelenting.

“Now, tell me, how far were you planning to go without me?”