Chapter Text
It’s quite early, he can only conclude when the thin stripes of light shedding from the sheer, white curtains of the room shine over his eyelids. Too early to be awake.
“..” Lucifer hesitantly opens his sluggish eyes, weakly groaning against red, velvet cushions that are far too unpleasant and stiff for a demon to be sleeping on. How he finds himself asleep on the couch rather than the luxurious silk sheeted bed displayed in front of him is nothing but a wonder.
Oddly, he also finds that his body is rather weak, heavy as lead when he tries to get up. He’s also caught up in his own confusion as to why his head throbs so violently, or why his vision is nothing but a blurry, unfocused daze. Everything in the room is an unidentifiable, unknown and insignificant speck of furniture.
And it almost feels as if he’s been up all night completing stacks of paperwork. As if he was pushing himself past the brink of physical exertion..
But that can’t be it. He was at Diavolo’s party last night, he was at the retreat.
He was just dancing with you last night.
Then Lucifer feels a small shift against him. Something warm, enveloping him, something that grazes his cold skin with such a weak embrace.
His eyes slowly blink, noting the small hand on his wrist as looks down. Noting how delicate those fingers are. How softly they wrap around him without an ounce of hesitation.
Fuck. His heart begins to race, because the thing next to him is you— the person who he danced with last night. The one that he threatened to kill if she was to ever meddle in his business last night.
The human from the exchange program. The human he was supposed to be looking after, she’s.. completely naked, curled up next to him as if he’s the only thing in this world.
Lucifer tries to look around for more clues as to why you’re here, as to why you’re vulnerable and so indecently exposed around his rather clothed body.
The first thing he sees?
That black dress lying on the faux fur carpet beneath him, the dress that he spent hours staring at all night yesterday.
Lucifer can’t believe that he’s done it. That he’s taken it off of you after burning holes into the taunting fabric all night. That he’s actually seen what’s underneath it, and that.. the things underneath it are right next to him.
Oh, and he’s taken note of how your strapless bra holds onto the edge of that exquisite, handmade coffee table, and how your panties hang onto one of your bare ankles.
Just how much did he drink last night? He rubs his eyes once more, just in case that half-emptied bottle of demonus on that coffee table is some sort of hallucination.
It isn’t. The revolting headache he’s met with in the morning proves that much.
Lucifer also sees the state you’re in. How your legs fold around him, how those dried tears on your puffy eyes sit on top of your skin, and the small pathetic rises of your chest that are so, so terribly fragile and human.
And his heart pounds. It stupidly beats against his chest as if his skin becomes tender against your pathetic touch.
Just what did he do to you last night?
He runs his fingers through his hair one last time, sighing at how sweaty and disgustingly untidy he finds himself. A few buttons of his shirt are undone and it reveals the slight image of his chest, and the zipper of his pants are..
-
“Is this what you’ve chosen as your easy way out?” Lucifer had caught you, and all you could see were his fingers rustling with the fabric of his crotch. “It’s no wonder why you showed up in that dress.”
-
The zipper of his pants are undone .
He knows very well why that is because he’s the one who proposed the idea of that uncivil punishment. You only followed him with those helpless , those innocent eyes.
What’s worse is that he’s in Diavolo’s castle, where the walls probably have ears and eyes .
Which means..
If he’s not careful, if someone catches you in his arms like this, and if that someone is Lord Diavolo then Lucifer will..
-
“You said you would do anything for my forgiveness.” Lucifer hissed, the phone in his hand dropping to the floor, covered in newly-formed cracks as he latched onto your other thigh. “Do you really believe that there is some sort of liberty that allows you to dictate what I do to your body?”
-
My phone, he almost jolts up from the sofa, a sharp pain shooting through his head at the sudden movement. Where’s my phone?
For one, he needs to check the time. Secondly, he needs to check if his brand new D.D.D is actually broken.
Just great , he thinks this predicament is as he’s met with a blood boiling sight of smashed glass in his hands. How great.
Lucifer can barely read the large timepiece on his phone behind all those disgusting, disgraceful cracks. All he knows is that it’s either five or six in the morning, and that’s barely enough time to get you dressed and out of his room before anyone finds out-
-
“Look at how much you’ve been longing for it..” Your legs burned, they instinctively stretched open, as you naively believed that Lucifer would give you what you wanted. “How much you’ve longed for a demon that would give you his cock’s sperm.”
-
His fingers gently curl around your thighs, guilt dooming over him when he realizes how natural it feels to touch you. After just one drunk mistake .
Lucifer wants to curse out loud, but he bites his tongue before he can even open his mouth.
He needs to check if there’s any trace left, if he’s actually done the damned thing that will take him to places farther than hell itself.
And, hell , the sight is as relieving as it is arousing.
He assumes that those indents, those small purple bruises near your inner thighs are from him.
Lucifer hates how that is what catches his attention, how the sight of something so despicable makes his throat close, eyes darkening with gratification as he reluctantly buttons his pants together again.
And he thankfully remembers that dried up, semen stained handkerchief hiding beneath your breasts as what he used to clean up his mess.
At least, Lucifer vaguely remembers cleaning that before knocking out last night.
He sighs.
There’s a bittersweet aftertaste when your body lies next to him like this. When you sleepily mumble his name in your sleep.
…
Dressing a human wasn’t as bad as he thought it to be, even if you were in dire need of a proper bath.
That bra of yours was quite simple for him to pull into place, though he’s quite skeptical about its functionality without straps. He could say the same about its lack of a proper back— he’s sure that the small thin strap would snap after being worn thrice.
Though, what was the problem was your dress. Putting on your panties was simple enough, one loop already being on your legs.
But that dress?
Slipping it on you wasn’t a hassle, in fact you only sleepily groaned and tossed around in your sleep. That wasn’t so bad to deal with.
For a second, Lucifer forgets why that dress is so captivating, why he was so engrossed at the sight of it last night. The difficulties he’s faced with upon attempting to slide the tight fabric on your limp, unconscious body only reminds him why that is.
Because it’s rather skin-tight. It rather clings onto your body for dear life. It rather hugs your structure, it rather..
That captivating aspect of your dress soon turns out to be a real pain in the ass when Lucifer can’t seem to shove it past your breasts, or, actually, he can’t tug it down your.. chest.
He’s pegged you to be a light sleeper— which human isn’t?
It’s better to be safe than sorry, which is why he can’t bring himself to pull it down your body all at once. He doesn’t want to wake you, so that everyone else doesn’t wake up from the possible hungover tantrum you’ll throw.
He’s also pegged you to be quite the whiny type.
And well, after last night..
-
“Luci..fer..” Your words slurred together as you squirmed on his lap. “Please..”
-
He’s not entirely wrong.
…
Somehow, Lucifer manages to get the dreadful task done.
But what’s left now is to get you out of his room before breakfast, which occurs at seven. Currently, it’s 6:35, if he's lucky, he might get five more minutes of sleep by the time he’s done
Lucifer doubts it. Humans have quite the knack for making his life more difficult, namely you. You’re the only human he’s ever gotten tangled up with in bedsheets… or in this case, tangled up together in red velvet cushions-
Not that who he has sex with matters. He’s done it multiple times, maybe here or there with a succubus, although they’re quite..
Nevermind. He doesn’t want to finish that thought. Lucifer isn’t too fond of reminiscing about one-night stands. What’s worse and much more different is that this so-called one-night stand cooped up in his arms is a human. One that is his responsibility for the rest of the year.
So if he’s caught having sex with this human so early on in the year?
That would only make things painfully awkward between the two of you, That would only ruin Diavolo’s path to peace among all three realms. Fucking a human was never part of the itinerary, telling a human that he would breed them is nothing less than a breach of “contract”.
What Lucifer doesn’t like is how Diavolo’s plan suddenly becomes an afterthought instead of a priority, how quickly it morphs itself from a rule to a mere consequence in one night.
He looks down at the figure in his arms. That figure being you, who takes in small breaths during your slumber. You, who is so unpredictable, you, who he does not know as well as he’d like, but somehow, you end up in his arms in such a situation he can’t wrap his mind around.
You, he has to get you out of here. It doesn’t matter where, but just out of his room. You’re distracting him. You, who should be nothing but a mere pawn or test subject for Lord Diavolo’s peace plan. You, who is only a human.
A delicate, fragile creature.
…
Lucifer doesn’t know who you room with, he can’t remember for the life of him.
All he knows is that you would never be rooming with him. Never in a million years.
He’s been rooming with Diavolo until last night, as his friend drunkenly slept elsewhere.
It just doesn’t make sense for you to be sharing a room with him.
Partially because of his previous roommate arrangements, but it’s also because of your relationship. There’s no particular way Lucifer would necessarily describe it..
He only passes by you in the halls of RAD as Mammon bothers you. Maybe every other day he wishes you a good morning. Maybe you’ll ask him something once in a blue moon, but that is if, and only if one of his brothers tags along with you. Maybe you’ll return the wishes of a good morning instead of nodding with the small smile you allow him to see, or maybe you’ll run into him in the House of Lamentation and acknowledge his presence before scurrying off to do your own thing. Maybe you’ll exchange a glance with him over breakfast, and maybe he washes his own plate when it’s your time to do chores because it hurts his pride otherwise. Maybe he‘ll call you up to his room to lecture you about failing what humans like to call “math”— potion and spell ratio courses. Maybe he’ll text you to pass on a message as you either leave him on read or reply very curtly with a thumbs up emoji.
That was the sort of relationship you had with each other.
Awkward, awkward, and awkward.
A completely and utterly awkward relationship. If you could even call it that.
For this reason, Lucifer needs to find a room that he can throw you into for the time being, and he doesn’t have much time to think before breakfast commences.
Well, Mammon follows you like he’s your guard dog, so maybe he is your roommate, but it sounds all too fateful, doesn’t it? Lucifer can’t remember if you shared a room with Satan either, or anyone else for that matter.
It’s obvious that the answer is anyone but him though.
Mammon it is, Lucifer decides on a whim.
He’s bound to believe that you’ve been in Mammon’s room for the whole night, and frankly, some of his younger brother’s blissful ignorance and lack of critical thinking would rub off onto you.
…
Sneaking you out of his room and into the hall was harder than he thought.
By a miracle, he’s able to pull off the stunt and stuff you into the corner of Mammon’s bed. Where you remain asleep and out of suspicion’s view.
Perhaps it’s by instinct that he knows where his younger brother’s room is, but by any means, it’s probably a miracle.
Moreover, Lucifer should leave you now, since you’re groaning and tossing around in Mammon’s arms. He should walk out of the room, he should go back to his room and freshen up for breakfast.
But he can’t. Lucifer can’t seem to move.
Is it because the sight of your arms melting around Mammon looks so instinctive? Is it because your leg hooks over Mammon’s body? Is it because the rises and falls of your chest rightfully follow Mammon’s? Is it because the sight of you sleeping with Mammon, in that dress, in that same bed is so-
You let out another redundant groan, another muffle of unintelligible words against Mammon’s chest.
Lucifer feels as if it’s time for him to go, so he turns without allowing himself to think about you any longer.
This isn’t his room. He has no right to be lingering around as if he’s inclined to care about you, as if he’s inclined to think anything of that drunk mistake. He has no idea, he has no clue why. Why he contemplates over you, why his thoughts come and go without warning. As if he no longer has control over his mind.
It chips away at his pride when he lets the door behind him finally shut because Lucifer has to think twice before leaving.
It hurts his pride when his gut twists and turns for a mistake , over a mistake that shouldn’t bother him this much. His pride aches when his heart pounds at the image of this human.
His pride cries as he realizes that he has already reached the bed that he hasn’t touched, that instead of lying down on that bed, his body opts for that velvet sofa tarnished with his drunk mistake.
Lucifer doesn’t know what he’ll do as his eyes begin to close, he doesn’t know if he’ll even go to breakfast at this point. The demon dumbly wonders how he’ll deal with you from now on.
You, who is regrettably becoming far too familiar, yet far too distant for his liking.
…