#that reads as vermin and is very clearly. dangerous yes. but very low on the food chain. that feels extremely apt)

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

[a-collection-of-villainous-aus]

COFFEE AU PART 3

Section one of four

So here he was in this , laying in a plush four poster bed fit for a king, thick velvet curtains drawn, this was apparently a guess room...pfft sure it was, more like a room to keep your future bed fellow ...it was just as if he was waiting for that stupidly tall demon to come slinking in with his true intentions.

That had to be the price right, cause even though this was a guest bedroom, he'd been told it was his for as long as he stayed...begrudgingly he admitted that if he was not a monster who treated him like a toy under the sheets , the price would not be so harrowing for a warm place to stay and decent furnishings.

He had been through worse.

Done unpleasant favours that shamed his pride...and sometimes in some instances in this world you had to , to survive to the next day and fight for what you believed in, a couch or grime ridden motel room...and what would this pretty Legion think if he knew that?

Why did it matter, it shouldn't and still...

The small demon curled up, had fate finally given him a chance, or was this something simply tormenting him?

What was this even, out of nowhere he'd been practically handed a five star luxury suite, how was he just supposed to take that, what did this Legion son intend for him, did they not only choose rich beings to hang their arm around and help raise their...owners status.

In his time he had come across other Legion offshoots , nephews, cousins something or other twice removed...this one was a direct descendent, literally anyone even those already high in the chain of connections would scramble to be on the arm of this Legion...so why was there no mate here to try and kick him out the moment his sodden self had stepped through the doorway.

And what had he done when Acylius Flug spoken to him, that's right you guessed it, he'd acted his rude usual snappish self, leaving him even more confounded when the demon had been appreciative of his honesty.

Damn him, that idiot had smiled so warmly at him he'd felt his cheeks darken, no one had ever looked at him like that as if he were more than dirt or some unpleasant thing they'd stepped in...tomorrow he was going to attempt at being somewhat more pleasant, putting the pillow over his head Black Hat whined

"That idiot tree...why did he have to smile at me like that?"

EARLIER THAT DAY

The skies were gloomy and air thick, calm before the storm weather, hot sticky, uncomfortable.

Clearly change was simply biding its time, demons constantly looking up wondering if they would make it home or place of business before the downpour.

Dressed in fine clothes, to extravagant or flamboyant, a myriad of their kind , talons clicking on cobble stones mixed with voices all a jumble, dialects so different that some still needed translation, all of them were so tall in comparison of the one standing in the shadows, watching in silence.

A low class demon , who had gone from crawling bare in gutter muck, slithering through a world where his kind were used for relief and told they should be grateful for the disgusting meal that filled their scrawny bodies.

Most had accepted this fate believing it was all they would ever be and how things were supposed to be, but when it came time someone took their first attempt with him, oh he had made a meal of them alright, fangs sinking in as venom poured through their blood stream, grinning all through their cries and pleading for him to let go, of course no high class shit would admit that a low class parasite had gotten the best of them.

After that day even his own kind rejected him, not because he was different but they feared that his actions would lose their only foods sources besides scraps from the over flowing bins where flies fed first and here flies were not small buzzing pests.

Good, let them fear him, their scent of terror only spurred him on.

Never would he accept so easily a pathetic fate, he was destined for more than living in the sewers and being treated so poorly, if high-class demons wore clothes, so would he , he had decided after that day.

Finding clothes no longer desired in tips and tailors materials in which their own arrogance believed were irreparable with stains, if they could pull their heads from their asses they could have easily discovered home remedies that would remove such marks without damage, but that was their loss and his gain.

A feline demon with hair so red one wondered if hell beasts had taken blood and woven it into fine cascading waves that spilled over her shoulders and left the thundering rages power within her toxic green eyes to match the poison of all kindly given words as her skin compared to marble, she was only memorable at best simply because she'd been off her head on drink and needed someone to walk her home.

He had been daring enough to ask for needles and thread in return, which she'd laughed answering

"That's all....youuuu want...hic sure squirtling....spider thread an good needles for a bloke who didn't ask for me thighs."

Petting his head , seeing his cat ears thinking in her drunken stupor he was the same type of demon as she cooed over how cute they were, that was also the day he decided to wear a top hat.

He got her home as promised to the hotel and he'd honestly been surprised that the woman had kept her end of the deal, he had all manner of threads and needles that no...his eyes were not stinging because someone had actually been genuinely grateful not at all....

So now the clothes on his back, once considered rags and unwanted things now gave him a look of elegance, he seemed to have a knack of it and looking more suitable for work tried out as a tailors apprentice until he was kicked out for talking about rising in station and up into higher ranks.

Apparently that kind of talk was very dangerous.

What stupid cowardly creatures these demons were.

Talk of his goals had spread, warnings through physical and verbal means had been given, Black Hat held his side, ribs still bruised from the one he received from only the other day, grumbling to himself.

Time was growing short for him, the top had grown tired of his antics, once amused now only vexed by his existence , assassins would soon be sent out, they would make display of his corpse to be a reminder to those who did not remember their place in society.

He was aware of the whispers that even a Legion had been sent to find him and bring him in, nothing concrete , gossip was a regular thing , urgh Legions were usually spoiled pissy brats....please if he were to die , let it be by someone who would lavish in the kill and the spilling of his blood, not by some adult baby who whined at the slightest dirty mark.

Tired of watching civilization and reminiscing on his past and how he got to this place and situation, he turned back down into those streets he'd once crawled in , head now held high and the sound of his shoes clicking on the stones, perfect place to be ambushed but he would not die some whimpering with his tail between his legs.

His own kind or what once had been so recoiled at him, he was peculiar even to them, that only made him smile just enough to see the flash of green fangs, yes you drown in your filth, I will die a gentleman if I am to die this day.

He thought , shoulders back taking even more pride in what he had accomplished, it might not be much to the world but to him it was everything, at least he had tried and it was more than he could say for them.

If they had any drive at all, he'd rally them together, but one could easily read vermin, crawl, eat, breed survive even if it meant eating the young for food, his venomous fangs were a mutation that was never supposed to be there.

Yes he may as well be a pebble thrown into the raging rivers....and yet what if he was the stone, that skipped across the surface , starting a ripple of change , one day someone else might remember him if only to say unlike him I will succeed either way, it will and would be because of what he started, there was something pleasing about that thought , to still be a thorn in their side after death.

[crusnikroxas]

The Routine (18+)

**Author Note**

MafiaFell Sans x Reader

Word count: 7670 (....yeah, I went crazy, I’m sorry T-T)

This is part of the first prize from the raffle for the lovely @malenchka! :3 And yes, this is crazy long. >.> This is why I never bother to put a word limit on my one-shots - if I get too excited by a prompt, prepare for this madness. o.o

And dear ol’ Sansy actually turned out to be a hell of a lot less kinky than I expected him to turn out in this one. So it’s....pretty vanilla. But romantic as fuck. So have fun with that ;D

**End Note**

It all started at your workplace.

You’d never asked for any trouble – as a matter of fact, you made a point of avoiding anything of the sort; a tough thing to do in the dark city of Ebott, where various mafia families ran rampant and strip clubs littered every corner. But conflict had always frightened you; so you kept to yourself, kept your head down, and kept to your safe routine.

Or rather, a routine that used to be safe.

That fateful day had started well enough. You’d woken up at 6:30am sharp, got yourself dressed into suitable attire (thankfully an assistant shopkeeper’s uniform was as modest as they came – another thing you thought kept you relatively safe), did what little cleaning needed to be done around your tiny apartment (the best you could afford on your wage), and headed out for another work day. And you liked working at the little corner-shop – the old man who owned the place had always been extremely kindly towards you, even letting you take home any unsold produce at the end of the day. Plus the shop was as close as could be to where you lived; just across the road, in fact.

Sure, the routine got boring, but you were more than happy to put up with such things – it was better than the ‘excitement’ that young girls sought out when joining speakeasies as singers, only to be brutally killed off in the streets within the week. The only ones who seemed to survive walked a pretty fine line in terms of staying that way, ferrying information from mafia to mafia, spying on whoever paid them the most.

And of course, there was also the roaring prostitution trade, which came with the same dangers and more.

Yes, you were more than happy to live a meagre, boring life in exchange. But of course, good things often have a habit of being rather short lived.

~

“I’ve finished with the sweeping, Mr. Montgomery, sir.”

Your boss looked up sharply at your words, his expression decidedly startled, clearly having been shaken out of some sort of deep thought process. As a matter of fact, he’d been rather vague all day, jittery in his movements and uncharacteristically short with his costumers.  

So of course, you’d kept out of his way, and worked as hard as you could in order to not make any mistakes – it was the least you could do, if it helped to keep his stress levels down.

“Y-y/n….what are you still doing h-here?”

You frown in confusion; you hadn’t stayed late, you were sure of it – you were always punctual, never straying from the routine that had helped to keep you safe.

“My shift doesn’t finish for another 10 minutes, sir. Are you feeling alright?”

He taps his fingers anxiously on the counter in front of him, letting out a hissing breath as his eyes darted to the door at the front of the shop.

“I’m fine. Listen, I’m gonna let you go home a little early, ok? But you’re gonna have to leave out back. Just….just go now, and go real quiet, ok?”

You gulp, the colour draining from your cheeks – you’d have to be completely ignorant not to know what such warnings meant in the city of Ebott.

“Oh no, sir….you….you don’t mean-”

“Wouldn’t be able to keep this lil’ place up and running for much longer if I didn’t. It’s….it’s not bad, as these deals go. They’ll keep the place going, and all I need to give is 10% of weekly profits, along with sanctuary to any members if….if they need it.”

A mafia. He’d actually been fool enough to make a deal with a Don.

You take a reflexive step back, eyes wide, tremors running through your legs; he knew, he knew how you felt about gangs, how scared you were, what happened to your family after your brother got in with the wrong group-

“Y/n….please, understand. Not only would I have been out of pocket, you would have had to find another job. I know...I know how you are-”

“Well, clearly you don’t! But you’re obviously quite aware that I can’t afford to quit, and-”

You cut yourself off, realising that you’d spoken out of turn – and to your boss, no less.

“Oh, sir, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand completely – hell, I’d flip my shit and more if I were in your position. Look, just...just leave out back, like I said. Then after this evening, we can pretend that none of this ever happened. Everything’ll be the same as usual, ok? I won’t get you involved, y/n-”

His words are cut off abruptly by a hard rapping at the door; you both jump at the sound, eyes wide with alarm. He turns to you with panicked vigour, indicating for you to hide under the counter – so, feeling much like a cowering dog, you crawl between your boss’s legs and curl up in a shaking ball, dully noticing with some irritation that you hadn’t swept this particular corner as well as you’d previously assumed.

The rapping sounds once again at the door, and the safe cover of your boss’s legs is removed as he goes to answer, leaving you prone; you curl up all the more, hands held hard over your mouth in an effort to keep as silent as you could.

All the same, you feel your breathing hitch at the sound of the front door being opened, the little bell on the door-frame tinkling cheerfully as it did so.

“S-so sorry about that. I was just finishing t-the sweeping-”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, gramps. jus’ let me n’ the boys in, yeah? heh, pretty damn cold out here, don’t’cha think?”

“Oh! Oh yes, please, come right in.”

You hear a deep, rolling chuckle – clearly amused over how jittery your boss was being; you reflexively swallow as the sound of several footsteps entering the establishment surrounds you, clearly checking out the shop for anything untoward. But eventually, it seems that the Don’s men are satisfied – shockingly, they hadn’t even attempted to look under the counter for anything threatening. But you certainly don’t relax as a result, especially as you hear your boss start to bravely speak up.

“So, uh, I’m not exactly sure how this process-”

“don’t worry ‘bout it – we gotcha covered. now, all we gotta...”

The Don pauses for far too long. You bite your lip, wondering what was wrong – as something had to be wrong, for such a lengthy pause. You soon get your answer as the Don lets out another hearty chuckle, sending shivers up your spine.

“heh. ya didn’t mention that ya had mice.”

You brow furrows. You always cleaned the shop spotless, and to accuse the place of having a vermin problem was actually insulting to you.

“Um….I’m s-sorry?”

“mice. y’know. cute lil’ things, pretty shy. like to hide in places ya don’t always expect.”

You can’t help but jump at the hard rap on the surface of the counter above you, the Don’s laughter echoing from above.

“c’mon out lil’ mouse, i won’t eat ‘cha. not unless ya want me to, that is.”

Digging your fingernails hard into the palms of your hands, you do as he asks and crawl out from under the counter, keeping your eyes trained on your feet and floor beneath them as you stood up. You knew better than to refuse a mafia Don’s wishes, after all.

“there we go. boys, ya gettin’ sloppy – did ya even bother ta scan for other souls? i keep tellin’ ya, ya can’t jus’ trust ya eyes.”

“But boss, we-”

There’s an audible slap, making you flinch; you swore that if you dug your fingernails into your hands any harder that you’d start to draw blood. But one word stuck out for you – the mention of souls. That could only mean-

“ya what? practised real fuckin’ hard at being an idiot this morning, huh? ya lucky it’s me here, not ma brother – otherwise ya know he’d kill ya on the spot, right?”

“….yes boss.”

There’s a tense silence, and you desperately try to stop yourself from shaking; not that you were very successful in your endeavours. This was exactly what your routine existed for, after all – to avoid the mafia families as much as you could. And now, here you were, stood in front of a Don and his bodyguards, having been outed out of hiding from them. And worst of all, if your suspicions were correct, then this wasn’t an ordinary mafia your boss had decided to deal with.

There were two main mafia powers in the city of Ebott: the Stigma family, which dealt mainly in the drug and prostitution rings, as well as human trafficking – a group that even the most daring girls at the speakeasies did their best to avoid. And then there was the Osseous family, which preferred ownership of certain city sections, and the running of the vast majority of the speakeasies. And while this might sound mild in comparison to the Stigma, in your opinion they were far more dangerous, and judging from the body count left in their wake, you were more than right.

They were literal monsters in every sense.

And that really was quite literal, given that most of the group was composed of living, breathing monsters; you’d read stories of a time when humans and monsters used to live peacefully with one another – but after a horrific war, the world had settled into the tense balance of families struggling for power, land and respect. And while there were other monster mafia families in the city, the Osseous family was by far the most powerful, lead by three terrifying skeleton monsters, infamously known for their sadistic natures and ruthless killing.

You….you didn’t want to die.

You jolt as you feel the sudden sensation of cool fingertips under your chin, softly nudging you to raise your head; you follow the motion, but keep your eyes low – you really didn’t want to confirm your fears.

“heh, well, ain’t ya jus’ a peach. what’s yer name, doll?”

You gulp, trying to get your voice to work around your paper-dry mouth.

“Y-y/n, sir.”

“pretty name. not quite as pretty as yer face, but m’certainly not complain’.”

Despite the terrified shaking in your limbs, you feel your cheeks burn red at the unexpected compliment, resulting in a deep chuckle from him as he noticed.

“...name’s red. there now, we both know each-other – so how’s a ‘bout ya look at me, eh?”

You shudder, instantly recognising the name, hating that your instincts had been completely on point in regards to suspecting the Osseous family’s involvement  – he was pretty infamous, whispers on the street naming him as, ‘The Reaper’; the implications of such a name being pretty obvious, even without his skeletal visage.

Not daring to refuse his request, you finally raise your eyes to meet his – or rather, lack of, considering all he had were scorching red eye-lights in empty sockets.

He was a lot….bigger than you’d heard. Of course, all monsters were enormous beings, you knew that much, but to be up close and personal with one was frankly terrifying. You even had to crane your neck up to meet his gaze, which made his smile stretch all the wider; something which made your muscles tense beyond your control, considering the shocking sharpness of his teeth – something you could liken to a shark’s, aside from the fact that one of his fangs had been replaced by a false gold tooth. Something in the back of your mind wondered who his tailor must be; someone who was obviously very talented, considering the quality of the red and black suit he wore on his gargantuan frame, accompanied by gleaming spats and a black fedora.

“there ya go – nice ta make yer acquaintance, y/n.”

You blink, not expecting the manners; you answer back on reflex, your brain putting very little thought into the learned words that fell from your lips.

“Nice to meet you too.”

Your eyes widen as you realise that could be taken as disrespectful, and you start to stutter out the word ‘sir’ - only for the hand which still held you chin in place to quickly place a finger over your lips.

“pfft, don’t cha worry yer pretty lil’ head ‘bout it – kinda nice not havin’ a stupid honorific tied ta my name. matter of fact, how ‘bout cha make it a habit of callin’ me red, eh?”

You balk, really not expecting this turn of events, but make to nod your head anyway – not that you could move all that much thanks to his hold, but given the spreading grin on his features he got the message. A grin that suddenly falls when one of his goons lets out an audible cough.

“Boss, we’ve gotta get this show on the road, or-”

“yeah yeah, i know, shut yer fuckin’ trap.”

His eye-lights flickered back down to you, a strangely sweet smile crossing his features before he lets out a clearly regretful sigh, finally releasing you and stepping away, strolling back towards your boss as you attempted to calm yourself down.

“right gramps, let’s get ta business, shall we?”

“...oh! Oh, of course. So it’s a 10% of profits at the end of each week, and sanctuary to-”

“nah. forget ‘bout the stupid profit – we’ll be good as long as ya just give me ‘n the boys a place if we need it, and...”

He looks around for a moment, before his burning eye-lights land on the small bakery section, his grin widening.

“...and lunch whenever we want. sound good to ya, gramps?”

You boss mutters out hurried thank-yous, quickly signing the papers handed to him; Red’s eye-lights hovered back over to you whilst he did so, his expression clearly contemplative.

But soon, your boss was finished with the papers, and it was time for the mobsters to leave – or at least, they were supposed to, but Red had other ideas.

While his men stood in clear discomfort by the door, eager to vacate, Red took his sweet time, almost waltzing back towards you; before he gently took up your hand and brought it to his mouth in a soft pseudo kiss.

“be seein’ ya, beautiful. and….heh, i know i ain’t the most attractive of monsters, but….”

He coughs slightly, and your mind freezes in mute surprise as a blush spreads across his cheekbones.

“...woulda consider goin’ out with me at some point? and nah, don’t think this is gonna interfere with yer’ bosses’ deal if ya say no. i’m a better monster than that, even if i don’t look it, heh. So jus’….jus’ think ‘bout it.”

With that, he quickly tipped his fedora in farewell, and was out the door without another word, his men following just as quickly after him.

~

Of course, you should have realised that that wouldn’t be the end of it, especially with that kind of exit.

You’d never been propositioned by anyone before, and the fact that your first taste of ‘interest’ had to be from a mafia Don made you feel faintly sick. But aside from that, you had to admit that Red himself wasn’t nearly as….bad as the stories made him out to be.

Of course, you didn’t doubt for a moment that the stories about brutal killings weren’t the truth (that was a given with any mafia in Ebott, after all) – but the stories about him being a ruthless, cold, sadistic being? The more interactions you had with him, the more those stories seemed to be nothing but twisted fairy tales.

It began with flowers.

Every morning, precisely 5 minutes before you were scheduled to leave for work, a bouquet of flowers would arrive – anything from gorgeous, deeply red roses to delicately curved sweet-peas. It got to the point that your small apartment was so perfumed you could hardly stand it, and your clothes were deliciously scented no matter how much you washed them (not that you exactly complained about that last part). Luckily for you, Red seemed to drop in almost every day for lunch (“yer bakery is the best this side of town”), so with a quick, polite word, the flower deliver ceased.

And was quickly replaced with other presents.

Anything from chocolates, to things that you needed for your day-to-day living (Red had uncanny hearing apparently, as he always seemed to catch you muttering under your breath whenever you had to make shopping lists) – and, of course, the presents that finally convinced you that he really wasn’t a bad guy at all.

He wrote you letters.

Sometimes it would be simple little notes, mentioning how nice it was chatting with you while he and his goons ate their lunch at the shop (considering it was everyday, you were pretty sure that his men were pretty darn sick of sandwiches and confectionery, as nice as they were) – others made you blush like a schoolgirl; you would had never considered a monster like him to be good at romantic prose, but his sweet, sensual letters more than proved you wrong.

Initially, you simply assumed that he hadn’t written them at all, and had employed someone to do so for him – but he seemed to instantly pick up on your dubious behaviour.

Which is when the romantic poetry in person started.

Instead of going straight to his usual request of a fresh ham sandwich (“heavy on the mustard, doll”), he would lean across the desk, looking deep into your eyes as he improvised. Some of his prose was a little cringy at times (which is when you usually broke out into uncontrollable giggles – not that he seemed to mind that fact, actually admitting that he loved to make you laugh), but when he got it spot on you had to fight back the urge to fan your cheeks, often having to take a moment to go splash your face in the aftermath.

But oddly, not once during his courtship had he asked you to go out with him again – apparently he’d been quite true to his word when he asked you to ‘think about it’; a fact that once again surprised you and only further convinced you that he wasn’t quite the monster people painted him out to be.

Sadly, the glaring problem that he was a mafia Don still remained. Frankly, it terrified you – sure, you’d come accustomed to seeing members of the Osseous family frequenting the shop, but it didn’t stop your fears, oh no; you were just waiting for the day that one of those members would come stumbling in, covered in blood, and begging for assistance.

Truthfully, you were torn – you had admittedly started to develop….feelings for the skeleton monster despite your misgivings, but….you were still terrified. No, there was only one thing for it – you needed to talk to him, before things progressed further.

~

“heya beautiful.”

You look up in slight surprise, not expecting Red to be here this early – at least 30 minutes early, to be exact.

“You’re here early.”

“i am. s’that a problem?”

“Not exactly – but the bread’s still a little too hot to make sandwiches.”

“well, guess that jus’ means i get ta distract you from work jus’ that lil’ bit longer.”

He grins down at you while you roll your eyes – you felt safe enough with him to show sarcasm at this point, something he seemed to take great joy in.

“Well, think again, I’ve….”

You pause, realising that this would actually be the perfect time to have that little ‘talk’ with him – you had very little to do around the shop at the moment, and the boss was already watching the front desk.

“...Red, can I...can I talk with you for a moment?”

He blinks, clearly not expecting the question, before his grin widens and he chuckles under his breath.

“well, sure ya can. i’m all non-existent ears, sweetheart.”

You giggle despite yourself, before quickly straightening your expression – not that it did much good, as Red was already the embodiment of smug satisfaction.

“Glad that you are. Just….um. All of your….affections are very flattering.”

He raises a brow bone, eye-lights slightly wary.

“And I won’t say that I don’t….I won’t say that I don’t enjoy them.”

“...but?”

“...but I just….I’ve had really bad experiences with….with another mafia. I wasn’t involved myself, but my brother was….and one day while I was out, he….he made a mistake, a deal went sour. And when I came back….my family was gone. Dead. Just like that.”

Red visibly winced, his face the picture of a grimace.

“So I’m just….I’m just scared. I don’t...”

You sigh, your shoulders tight as you look away from his piercing gaze.

“...I don’t want to lose another person that I care about. I don’t….I don’t want to get hurt again, I’m sorry.”

You gasp slightly as you feel his fingertips under your chin, pulling your face and gaze back towards him, so reminiscent of the first time you met it sends your heart racing.

“...now, ya listen’ ta me, ok, doll? that ain’t gonna happen with me. ya see these goons? i don’t need ‘em. they’re jus’ there fer show. pretty sure that ya know i’m known as ‘the reaper’ - stupid fuckin’ name, but i won’t say it ain’t accurate. there’s a reason why i’m the guy that gets sent ta….gah, please, sweetheart, jus’ trust me when I say that there’s no chance in hell that i’m gonna get hurt anytime soon. and i’m not gonna let you get hurt either, ‘kay?”

You sigh, desperately resisting the urge to lean into his touch.

“There’s bound to be a time when things go sour, Red. That’s the way the mafia works, after all – I know first hand, remember? And what happens then? Either I get killed for being involved with you, or I get to live the rest of my life without-”

You cut yourself off, automatically jerking yourself away from his hold. For a moment, the two of you are silent, before he lets out a long, heaving exhale.

“...what ‘bout if i offered ya protection? i mean, not that i….”

He starts to laugh, catching you slightly off guard; you frown, not understanding the sudden humour.

“pfft, sorry, s’really not funny. jus’ that i’ve already placed ya under protection, and i’m stood here like a fuckin’ idiot askin’ yer permission.”

“….you what?!”

He winces, instantly sobering up at your shocked indignance.  

“You’ve had me watched?! For how long?!”

“….ya don’t wanna know the answer ta that.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose while he rubbed the back of his head, fedora slipping slightly out of place as he chuckled nervously.

“Do you realise what an invasion of privacy that is?”

“...yeah. but….i jus’ wanted ya ta be safe, sweetheart.”

You let out another groan, though some part of you actually feels pretty pleased that he cared enough to do such a thing – that said, it would have been nice to know.

“let me make it up ta ya, beautiful – please?”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

He shifted slightly, his expression actually nervous, something that catches you off guard; you’d seen him bashful, but this was nearing the kind of jitters that you yourself experienced around him.

“...let me come over n’ make ya dinner.”

“Wait...what? Make me dinner? As in….cook for me?”

He nods, actual sweat gathering at his brow at your words.

“...you can...you can cook?”

He narrows his sockets at this, dipping his face lower to yours.

“s’that a challenge, sweetheart?”

“I...I….maybe? Honestly, I’ve never been cooked for before, but….uh, my apartment is really small, so I’m not sure I’d fit more than two people-”

“what? doll, i ain’t bringin’ anyone else with me. what, ya think i’d want those dolts breathin’ down my neck? ‘sides, i’m cookin’ fer us, not those fuckin’ idiots.”

“I don’t know, Donny can be pretty smart when he wants to be.”

“emphasis on ‘wants’….but, uh, what do ya-”

“Yes. I, um, mean...yes. That’d be….real nice.”

For a moment, he simply blinks, clearly not expecting your acceptance – and instead of his trademark, sly grin making a reappearance, an odd, slightly wonky shy smile takes up residence on his features, disbelieving chuckles escaping him.

“well….heh. looks like i’m gonna have ta go get some...things, then.”

With that, he begins to turn on his heel to leave, before you suddenly reach out and grip his sleeve, instantly halting his movements as he looks down at you in shock, blush dusting his cheeks.

“I...did you still want your usual order?”

There’s a momentary pause, before he lets out a deep, rolling laugh, swiftly turning back to you and grabbing the hand holding onto his sleeve, bringing it up to his teeth and softly kissing it.

“sweetheart, did ya forget? i’m the one who’s treatin’ ya today – is 7 good fer ya?”

“...yes, that’ll be perfect.”

With another grin and another kiss to the back of your hand, he’s out the door, leaving his men to hurriedly scamper after him, not expecting the sudden departure.

You heave out a sigh, leaning back against the wall with a slightly stupefied expression.

That….that certainly wasn’t how you envisioned the conversation going.

~

You jolt and squeak at the sudden tapping on your door, almost knocking over the glass of water you’d been attempting to consume in your nervousness (it hadn’t gone well – your hands were shaking too much, so holding the glass proved to be nearly impossible). Gulping, you stand, fluffing your hair one final time before you walk over to the door and open it, revealing Red in all his suited glory, bouquet of freshly cut red roses held out to you, a bag of groceries hanging in his other hand. Taking the beautiful flowers from him and pausing for a moment to inhale their heavenly sweetness, you giggle softly, smiling up at him.

“And here’s me thinking that I’d just about got the smell of flowers out of my apartment….come in.”

He chuckles nervously, ducking his head through the door-frame – however, the ceiling of your apartment is so low that he has to take off his fedora in order to save it from being crushed.

“ah, d’ya...have somewhere i can hang this?”

“...oh! Oh yeah, sure-”

You gesture wildly to the hat stand in the corner, desperately searching for something suitable to put the flowers in – you really didn’t want to leave them to wilt. Eventually, you successfully find a vase to place them in, just in time to witness Red without a jacket for the first time, rolling up his shirt-sleeves absent-mindedly as he looked with some concern at the contents of the bag he’d brought with him.

You manage to choke out a cough, bringing his gaze back to meet yours; before he openly grinned as he noticed how flustered you were at seeing his suddenly casual attire (you’d made sure to wear one of your best dresses, after all).

“I, uh….is there anything wrong? Y-you look worried.”

“heh. nah, was jus’ hopin’ that i picked out somethin’ that ya like.”

Without further ado, he brought the bag up to your kitchen counter and started to lay out the ingredients; and it didn’t take too long to work out what he was going to cook.

“...arrabiata?”

His head whips to you, his expression surprised intrigue.

“ya...ya like it?”

“Yeah, it’s one of my favourite pasta dishes, actually.”

He winced slightly at that, chuckling nervously.

“well, let’s hope that i can do it sum justice.”

“Don’t worry too much about it – I mean….just the fact that you’re bothering to do this is...really nice.”

You gulp slightly, turning your gaze away for just a moment, before something occurred to you.

“Would you….would you like something to drink?”

He snorted slightly at that, rolling his eye-lights and reaching inside the bag to reveal an intricate glass bottle containing a liquid that glowed faintly in the dimmed light of your apartment.

“...oh my god, is that monster alcohol?”

His grin visibly widens, and he starts to dig through your rather bare cupboards for glasses.

“But….but this is prohibited!”

“perks of havin’ a monster don cookin’ fer ya, doll. i know the guy who makes this personally – don’t worry, it’s not too strong. jus’ some nice magic effects.”

“Like what?”

He chuckles again, clearly enjoying the mixture of suspicion and mute fascination in your tone.

“nothin’ sinister, don’t cha worry. s’mostly jus’ relaxin’ - but with humans it does this pretty lil’ thing ta ya skin.”

Narrowing your eyes at him slightly, you turn your attention to the glass he’d handed you, looking down into the hazy, luminescent liquid.

“...it’s really pretty. What’s it called?”

“echoflower wine. made sure ta pick sumthin’ gentle fer ya….but i also thought ya would enjoy the magic, y’know? sorry if i-”

“No, no! It’s….it’s really nice of you to think of me like that.”

“heh, i got some serious makin’ up ta do, sweetheart.”

You mutter softly under your breath as you bring the glass up to your lips, inhaling the liquid’s scent – truthfully, you’d already forgiven him, but you weren’t about to let him know that just yet. The echoflower wine smelt beautiful – sweet and heady, a strange marriage between fresh lemonade and aged red wine. The taste however is nothing short of ‘magical’; the taste almost dances on your tongue, reminding you vaguely of passion-fruit, with distinctly floral notes.

“Oh, that’s so lovely. Thank you!”

“heh, y’ain’t seen the best of it – look at yer skin.”

You look down at you arm and gasp; your skin almost glowed, the surface catching in the light.

“That’s...honestly incredible.”

Sans hummed in agreement, eyeing you with a nothing short than a smouldering gaze as he takes a swig of his own drink; leaving you to exhale in slight astonishment when he too seems to shimmer. He snorts slightly at your reaction, beginning to chop ingredients with a precision you honestly didn’t expect, given his lumbering size.

“yeah, i know, i know, i look like a glowin’ pansy.”

“No, I was just...thinking how lovely it looked, actually.”

His movements stop at that, sockets going wide for a moment, before he reaches out hesitantly and cups the side of your face, his thumb rubbing softly at the surface of your cheek.

“...and yer look beautiful. ya always do.”

Your face flushes, the silence stretching as the two of you simply stare at each-other, the only movement in the room being his hand, still moving softly against your cheek. It suddenly struck you that you’d never really been alone with him, having always interacted in the shop before now. Yet here you were, quite alone with him, the heat building between the two of you by the second.

A heat which quickly became a crescendo as he dipped his head, planting the softest of kisses on your lips – a kiss that ended far too soon as he quickly drew back from you, shaking his head.

“m’sorry, don’t know what came over me – m’not here fer that, i-”

His words are quickly halted as you grab the front of his shirt and yank him back down to you, deepening the light kiss you’d had a taste of. He freezes for a moment, before melting under your touch, a rumbling groan leaving him as his hands drifted to your waist, lifting you up and placing you on the counter – you sighed happily at the extra contact, wrapping your legs around his hips; or at least trying to, but he halts your actions by gripping your thighs tight, breaking the kiss once more to look down at you seriously.

“sweetheart….i gotta know what yer thinkin’, m’sorry – i don’t want...ta take this any further without knowin’ how ya feel. s’not right.”

You blink, yet again surprised by his unexpected manners – manners which he only seemed to show you, given the amount of swearing he used whenever speaking to anyone else.

“I...ok, I’m not going to deny that it still scares me, with the mafia. But...I’ve never felt like this towards anyone. I didn’t realise how bad it was until you kissed me, so I...maybe got a little ahead of myself, I’m sorry.”

“doll, ya got nothin’ ta apologise fer, trust me. so…did ya w-wanna continue? i mean, i still gotta make ya dinner, bu-”

You interrupt him once again by yanking on the front of his shirt, breaking his hold on your thighs and wrapping them securely around his hips, pressing your lips to his fangs.

A low, deep growl leaves him as his hands travel up to your hips, grasping at the flesh there to yank you closer, his fangs nibbling at your lips, his tongue lapping at the tiny wounds left by his ministrations. You groan, licking at his tongue with gentle hesitance – a hesitance which is soon forgotten when his tongue curls around yours, exploring the inside of your mouth as his phalanges palmed at your ass.

Desperately wanting to be closer still, you grind your body against his, a soft, wanting whine escaping you. Red broke the kiss with a shudder that ran through his entire body, his eye-lights burning in his sockets as he stared down at you, his expression so warm and…loving, your own body shivers in response. Your mind almost feels hazy as he reaches up to cup your face once again, a small smile playing on his features.

“...yer so beautiful, y/n. i gotta ask ya – would ya….could ya be mine? i jus’….i don’t wanna ever let go of ya, sweetheart.”

You gulp, eyes wide as a furious blush floods your cheeks. He waits patiently for you to settle yourself, tenderly stroking your cheek and looking at you as if you were truly precious.

“I...I think that I would love that, Red. But we-”

“i know. some things have gotta change. and believe me, they will, as long as i have ya with me.”

He presses his forehead to yours, letting out a shaky sigh.

“...i adored ya the moment i saw ya, y’know. even though ya were so scared – i jus’ knew that I needed ya. knew that i wanted ta make ya happy, ta make ya laugh. and i promise, sweetheart, i’ll do all i can ta make ya feel safe again.”

You blink back tears, snuggling your face against his, your breath hitching.

“...I feel safe with you, Red. Please….please can we continue?”

He chuckles at that, pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck.

“yer really wanna continue this in the kitchen?”

“...well, I guess I do have a bed, technically. But it’s also the sofa, so I hope that’s ok.”

He growled under his breath, muttering about getting you out of this ‘shitty shoebox’ as he grasps your thighs and promptly lifts you from the counter-top, carrying you over to the couch/bed. You gasp lightly as he sets you down, kneeling at your feet – where he lifts your leg in a manner as if he was expecting you to break, removing your shoes with soft kisses to your lower legs and ankles, all while keeping solid, unbreaking eye-contact.

You shudder as those soft kisses started to progress up your legs, lingering on the inside of your thighs, his phalanges trailing up and under your skirt to palm at your hips, dragging you closer to him.

“gods….yer so soft, doll.”

You moan under your breath as his kisses come a little too close to your panty-line – he instantly freezes, looking up at you for confirmation. You gulp, looking away; but he can see that you certainly aren’t saying no. Something which is quickly confirmed as he pulls your underwear aside, trailing a long, slow lick up your slit.

You let out an aching keen at the sensation, your hips jerking in his hold; he growls under his breath, dragging you closer and eating you out like a man starved, his tongue delving deep and lingering in places you’d never been able to reach by yourself.

You head falls back against the couch cushions as he continues the achingly slow yet sweet pace, letting out soft groans as he did so, as if truly enjoying your taste. Your fingers dig into the cushions around you in desperation, mewls of pleasure falling from your lips as his tongue swirls around your clit.

“R-Red...”

He pauses, looking up at you with a strangely dazed expression, almost as if he were drunk.

“sweetheart?”

“I...please, I need...I need more of you.”

You flush at having to deliver such a line, but it doesn’t seem to faze him; in fact, given how his grin suddenly stretched into his usual smug expression, it pleased him greatly.

“’course. anythin’ ya want, beautiful.”

With that, his phalanges gently shimmed your dress up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear; he pauses for a moment, sucking in a shaking breath, his eye-lights forming tiny hearts in his sockets.

“fuck, sweetheart….yer so perfect, y’know that? can’t believe….can’t believe that you want to be mine.”

You giggle slightly breathlessly, standing up and starting to unbutton his shirt, a motion that makes him freeze and blush profusely.

“Well, you better start believing it. Now, are you going to leave me alone like this, or…?”

He seems to get the unsubtle memo, all but ripping his shirt off, leaving you to softly gape at his massive ribcage; he truly wasn’t even comparable to a human skeleton. The bones of his ribcage were thick, strong – you ran your fingers softly over their surface, Red shuddering slightly at the movement.

“yer….yer not put of by it, right?”

You look up in surprise.

“By what?”

“heh, well, i’m jus’ kinda…..all bones, right? i mean-”

“No. I like you. I like you….just like this.”

You gently kiss the bones your fingertips still ghosted over, looking up at him with a smile. A smile which he quickly returns, hurriedly unbuttoning his trousers, allowing the material to fall to the ground, leaving him in his boxer-briefs.

For a moment, you both simply stare at each-other, breathing hard; he makes the first movement, gently reaching around your back and unclipping your bra – you shrug it off your shoulders, keeping as much eye-contact with him as you dared, before squirming out of your now soaked underwear. His eye-lights travel down your body, phalanges reaching out to ghost over your waist, as if he was afraid to touch you.

“so...so fuckin’ beautiful.”

You flush, looking away – something he quickly stops, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, turning your face back towards him.

“heh, when are ya gonna learn – i like ya lookin’ at me, doll. i love seein’ ya expressions. i love seein’ what i do to ya.”

Tenderly running his phalanges through your hair, he smiles, dipping his head to kiss your still flushed cheek. Gulping, you reach out, playing with the waist-band of his boxers; he chuckles deep and low under his breath, fangs nipping at the side of your neck.

“impatient, y/n?”

“S-shut up.”

He snorts, his laughter tickling against your neck as he reaches down, pulling the material off his hip-bones, revealing his enormous, throbbing erection.

With some hesitance you reach out, stroking your fingers along the slightly slick tip, eliciting a small shudder from him. Smirking a little, you run your hand down his length with far more confidence, squeezing your hand around his thickness as best you could. He growls softly, bucking his hips into your hand, baring his fangs down at you as he fought to control himself.

Control which quickly you break when you duck your head to lick his tip, swirling your tongue around it.

Snarling in the back of his throat, he quickly scoops you up, foregoing the couch in favour of the wall, which was admittedly much closer. Letting out a huffing breath he opens your legs wider, lining himself up with your entrance, his burning eye-lights travelling to your face to take in your expression.

Obviously he found something that he liked, as in the next moment he started to push into you; and even with how wet you were, you find yourself struggling with his size.

“Oh...oh fuck! You’re so…big...”

“heh...think that’s the first time i’ve ever heard ya swear, doll.”

“S-shut up...”

He huffs out a chuckle, slowly rolling his hips into yours, pressing into you inch by inch; it wasn’t even the fact that he was long in length, but how incredibly thick he was, just. Filling. You. Up.

“s-shit...sweetheart...yer...yer takin’ all of me...so...so tight...”

Suddenly, it’s almost as if something gives within you; perhaps your muscles relaxed sufficiently, but all of a sudden Red had bottomed out inside you, leaving both of you gasping at how deep he’d suddenly gone, hitting every possible crevice within you.

You keened, your hips jerking forward in reflex to the extreme feeling, eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy; you’d never felt so perfectly full before, never had something inside you that hit your cervix so deliciously-

“fuuck….damn, ya….geez, what i’d give fer a camera right now.”

Your gaze snaps back to his, eyes narrowing, even if your body paid no attention to your obvious chagrin, continuing to tense and spasm around his length almost gleefully.

“Don’t...even...think about it.”

“pfft, don’tcha worry, y/n-”

He draws his enormous length out of you inch by inch, before plunging back into you at an equally slow and calculated pace, clearly drinking in every shift of your expression.

“-who needs a camera when i can jus’ see the same sight over n’ over, eh?”

“How modest...of you.”

He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, before digging his phalanges a little deeper into the surface of your hips.

“yer ready fer me, sweetheart?”

“More than.”

Letting out a soft moan at your words, he draws out of you once again; but instead of continuing the slow, languid pace, he starts to all but rut into you. You back arches at the feeling of your walls being stretched over and over, his tip smacking against your cervix, and the feeling of his phalanges digging harder into your flesh as he started to lose that perfect control.

You dig your heels unconsciously into his back, your body seeking that feeling of being hit deeper as your lower stomach started to tighten, your senses pitching; you were reaching your peak.

The whine that leaves you when he suddenly stops is nothing short of embarrassing, but you were too far gone to care.

“oh, sorry ‘bout that – were ya about ta cum?”

You whine louder, grinding your hips to find some sort of friction.

“heh….so needy.”

“P-please...”

“oh, she speaks. what is it, doll?”

“...i want to...c-cum, please.”

He almost purrs at your words, his cock twitching inside you, rubbing at a place that made you see stars.

“...so...fuckin’ cute. remind me ta make ya beg fer it in the future, yeah?”

Before you can even protest such a thing, his pace picks up to something almost blistering in it’s ferocity, grunts and growls leaving him as he gave into the sensations your pussy gave him; you scream, suddenly not caring about what your neighbours thought, clutching at whatever you could reach of him as your body searched for some kind of purchase.

Soon his pace became sloppy, his teeth grinding in an effort to stretch himself out; something which you have no patience for. Your body was getting tighter and tighter, needing more, needing-

“Please, please Red, fill me up-”

He gasps in a shocked, shuddering breath at your words, sockets wide – before his hips jerked hard against yours, smacking your insides so hard your vision goes white, the taught spring inside you finally releasing as you cum harder than you ever have in your life; and Red joined you, his breath hitching as rope after rope of hot cum spills within you, already dripping out of you and landing with an obscene sound on your apartment flooring.

For a long while, you simply stare at each-other in silence, taking in heaving, gasping breaths; your thighs eventually start to shake as your body becomes oversensitive, an instinctive whine leaving you at the feeling – he gulps, carefully withdrawing himself from you, before carrying you just as carefully back over to the couch, setting you down with a gentle kiss to the top of your head, flopping down next to you with an exhausted gasp.

You place your head on his chest without thought, a satisfied sigh leaving you as you snuggled your cheek into him. A rumbling purr leaves him in reply, and you can feel him pressing more kisses to the top of your head.

“when...when did ya want dinner, beautiful?”

“Goodness, you don’t need to think about that – I think I have some leftovers-”

“nope. no way. not fuckin’ happenin’.”

“What? Why not?”

“i promised yer a dinner, so i’m gonna make yer a dinner.”

“...but we just-”

“don’t matter. i’m a man of my word, doll – remember when i said i was gonna make ya happy?”

“...you’ve already made me happy, believe me. And...and it goes both ways, y’know? If...if we’re really going to be together, I want to make you happy, too.”

There’s a short pause before he starts to laugh, his body shaking.

“pfft, yer so fuckin’ perfect, y’know that? i mean….jus’ bein’ with ya...that’s more than enough fer me. jus’ havin’ ya close makes me happier than i’ve ever been, y/n.”

You flush, softly elbowing his side.

“...stupid. Why are you always so damn smooth?”

His laughter continues at that, leaving you to grumble softly.

“Ok, ok….so how about a compromise? You can still make dinner, just...just rest with me for a while, ok?”

A soft, contented noise of approval leaves him, his phalanges reaching up to massage your scalp.

“more than happy ta oblige, doll.”