Chapter Text
Today is your worst work day in ages. You can’t concentrate and keep replaying in your head what Damien said to you earlier. He was together with someone that… Probably abused him, by the looks of it. But ... how? Even after… All the things that happened, which make your ears glow by just thinking of them, you still feel intimidated by him. He’s two heads taller than the average woman, and physically much stronger. Not to mention his teeth and abilities. He could be something from a comic, a fantasy book, even a movie… Except he was very much real. Your own Hellboy . Despite it all, you smiled.
“Thinking of your attire for Friday night?”
Opposite of you, Charlotte curiously smiles, leaning sideways from behind her screen. With a hotkey, you casually hide the tab you were browsing - “
Tips on how to identify & manage PTSD in Seniors
”.
Charlotte was nice, as far as coworkers go. A bit too curious, and more of an extravert than you, but nice nonetheless.
“Friday night? Wha-”
Then it struck you. The gala. That dreaded yearly
Media Invitational
, which you had weaseled out from, last edition. This edition, it would look bad to skip it. Certainly after your comic seemed to be getting more popular. There would be a lot of editors, publishers, and your team was supposed to put together a 5-minute long video, which you would need to present on stage.
On stage .
You shudder and try to focus on the conversation again.
“Well… I don’t have anything to wear yet.”
Charlotte gasps in utter shock, then slams her hands on her desk, her chair rolling away from her.
“This calls for drastic measures. We need to get you an outfit right now !”
“... At 10 in the morning?”
Charlotte slaps her hands on the desk again, retrieves her chair and sits down in a dramatic fashion.
“We will get you an outfit
this
lunch break, and I’m
not
accepting a no.”
“Even though we’re supposed to work on the presentation?”
“No excuse- ...Oh shit, you’re right, we need to cut and process the video files against this evening. Who’s responsible for the script?”
Your co-worker frantically looks around to find a culprit, and you smirk despite yourself.
“That would be you .”
Charlotte opens her mouth in a silent “Oh”, then slumps down without another word and frantically starts checking her emails to double-check what you just told her.
Good, that gives you some respite. You sit up straight and make another effort to concentrate, collaborating with Charlotte over the team chat to help streamline the script, then return to sketching presentation images.
It helps, if just a little. The repetitive work and checking back and forth with several other people soon banned painful and intrusive thoughts from your mind.
It’s past 6pm when the work is done. The video has been cut and roughly edited, and will be sent to the art director for review. A few stray coffee cups are left behind from the brainstorming session, and you clean them up while Charlotte has gone to show the rough edit to Henry.
Would it be impolite to leave while she’s gone? You’re pretty sure the shops are closed by now, but still…
All of a sudden, a light touch brushes past your head - but no one’s there.
Damien?
Another faint touch, this time past your neck. This is new. Then Damien’s voice resounds, tender like a kiss brushed against your cheek.
I’m here. Are you coming home soon? The house feels empty without you.
It’s become like breathing, this way of talking. It took so much effort when you started out, and now he’s
touching
you from miles apart… You send a hasty reply.
I’ll be home soon.
Charlotte returns to an empty room, finding a post-it note with a hastily scribbled message on it:
“
Sorry, something urgent came up, had to leave. See you later! [Y/N]
”
Damien opens the door before you get here. He’s camouflaged as usual. You can faintly see his outline, but someone who wouldn’t know that he was there would easily miss him. You fly into his arms, kicking the door shut behind you, laughing happily when he effortlessly lifts you up and swirls you around. His lips curl against your hair, and his nose nudges the crown of your head. From the kitchen, a delicious smell permeates the rooms.
“Youvetsi,” Damien smiles to you.
“Sounds Greek. Is it Greek? And is it the name of what I’m smelling, or is it a new pet name?”
You look up to him, your chin resting on his chest, smiling from ear to ear.
“Yes,” Damien cheekily retorts, chuckling when you softly slap him on the shoulder and give him a mental Don’t sass me, grandpa . It’s his favorite joke as of late, answering two simultaneous questions with “yes”. Another thing he picked up off the internet. Maybe you should invest in a parental lock for him. A grandparental lock.
“It is Greek food,” he confirms, smiling back down to you, kissing your forehead. After a moment’s hesitation, he leans down, his burgundy lips approaching yours. When you don’t pull back, his lips close over yours, his mouth hungrily devouring you and taking your breath away.
I haven’t brushed my teeth yet-
You taste divine - hush now.
His thoughts wash over you, longingly, silencing your sorry excuse for a protest, and you let the heated demon caress your body through your clothes, his thumbs gliding over your chest and hipbone.
He stops right when you’re about to melt in a puddle, groaning and sighing in his arms.
Something is about to burn if I don’t… I’m sorry.
You blink lazily, the warm arms leaving your embrace. Damien smiles apologetically and walks into the kitchen, quickly opening the stove and putting a steaming dish on the table, sprinkling it with a few fresh leaves - basil? Your mouth waters, and you sit down, grinding your thighs against each other, hungry for both food and something else.
“That’s horrible timing,” you sulk, swallowing heavily when the demon puts a plate before you. Pasta shaped like rice grains, lamb meat in a rich, red sauce, that smells of various herbs - cinnamon and…?
It smells fantastic, as usual. Damien smiles when your mental appreciation reaches his thoughts, and sits down close to you, his golden eyes shimmering.
“I don’t know about that. The dish looks perfectly done to me,” he replies, mischievously swishing his tail. You pointedly ignore his teasing and take a bite.
Delicious
.
“Something else needs to be perfectly done against this weekend,” you casually switch, remembering your work. You suppress a shiver, but he notices, as always.
“Something you are not looking forward to, my dear?”
You smile and shake your head, absentmindedly poking at a juicy piece of tomato.
“Public speaking is the
worst
, and I can’t avoid it this year. I’ve got something big this weekend, I need to dress up and stuff… I think I’ve mentioned it.”
Damien nods, saying nothing, but reaches out to your hand and gently squeezes your wrist.
“I know what you can do, and you will do great, my love,” he assures you, and for a moment you believe him.
Maybe it won’t be too bad. Maybe you won’t fall onto your face when you ascend the stairs to the stage. Maybe your dress - shudder - wouldn’t fall off the second you step on it. And certainly you wouldn’t rupture eardrums in the audience if you accidentally caused feedback as soon as you spoke into the mic.
“There’s a tip that I’ve heard before, that you have to imagine the audience nude,” you mumble while chewing.
“‘Supposed to help calm your nerves,” you chuckle, curious about Damien’s reaction. The demon grins, and shakes his head.
“It’s more distracting than anything, a full nude audience” he chuckles. “I have been there and seen it, and most of the people weren’t waiting for a speech in particular.”
Your eyes widen. He’s been in front of a nude group of…?
Your curiosity must be visible on your face, as Damien indulges and grins widely.
“My sweet, perverted [Y/N],” he teases, “I have seen things your innocence would pale at, and it would send you running, screaming if I told you too much.”
A kick under the table makes him laugh, and he continues.
“But yes. I’ve been in… A…”
His eyes darken, but he continues.
“... Dungeon of sorts. It belonged to someone rich and powerful, and she held feasts-orgies-with me there. Sometimes it was good. Other times… I- I wish not to speak of this right now. It makes my stomach turn to think of it.”
You stop eating and braid your fingers through the demon’s, softly squeezing his bigger hand back. His pained expression stops you from pressing, and you decide to switch subjects.
“Do you remember things from… Before Danae?”
Damien’s eyes turn upright, but he still avoids your gaze.
“Flashes, some other things. They’re my oldest memories. I didn’t have a conscience before Danae - she taught me what empathy was. Before that, I was… Not a good person.”
Darnit, not the best question to ask .
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t. I’m glad for your curiosity. I know it means you care for me. I just… Come with a lot of baggage,” the demon murmurs.
“I see. ...Then, what is your favorite memory?”
Damien smiles at you, his eyes wrinkling.
“Right now is a good moment. Matter of fact, most of my times with you are among my favorite memories so far,” he charmingly winks. His fork and knife tinkle on his empty plate, and he eyes you darkly.
“Not fair…” you whisper, but Damien is already leaning over the table, your last bite only half-chewed when his lips reach yours.
His tongue pries your lips apart in a furious kiss and he pushes his tongue deep into your mouth.
“Mmhp!!”
Wait, I can’t breathe-
Damien roughly pushes the table aside, and pulls you from the chair into his body. The bulge in the large sweatpants is hard and thick, pressing insistently against your crotch, directly where you like it. The last few days you have been exploring each other. Fingers, tongue, caresses and kisses, tasting each other… The only thing you denied him was putting it inside of you.
You gasp as his fingers plunge into your panties, finding you already leaking. Your body knows and yearns for him now.
So wet already...
His voice echoes in your mind, sounding very pleased. Damien abruptly pushed both of his thick fingers inside of you and curse loudly as he starts finger-fucking you, fast and hard, his face looming inches away from yours as you choke and cry out. A large hand caresses your hair and fists it, forcing your head backwards. Your walls clench and he chuckles above you, growling when he senses your climax coming.
“ Come , [Y/N],” he whispers, “Show me that beautiful anguish when you lose it.”
You shatter, flecks of white breaking up your vision. Your head wants to move but he’s tightly clenching your locks, keeping you in place, you’re
his
,
fuck, FUCK-
“I love watching you climax,” Damien purrs, giving you a soft kiss on your stomach. The two of you have moved on to the couch, where he’s currently kissing you all over. Your legs feel like jelly and you’re too spaced out to protest, so you let him do as he pleases.
It’s not so bad
having
one, either
you signal mentally back to him. Your hand idly plays with his thick hair while you dreamily look down on him. The demon tilts his head and gives you a smile that makes slits of his pretty eyes, nuzzling your hand.
“I’ll give you many more,” he promises, sucking on your groin line, which causes you to shock upright.
“Ugh- that’s-”
“-very sensitive, of course,” he hums, sliding deeper and pushing your legs wider apart.
After he’s finally let you alone, another unbelievable hour later, the two of you lie in a hug, still on the couch, that has seen some unspeakable things by now. It seems as good a time as any to bring up a question that’s been on your mind for a while.
“Damien? …Could I come with you, when you next visit the cult?”
He twitches in surprise and smiles at you.
“Yes, of course. I thought you didn’t want to?”
“I changed my mind. I’m curious about them.”
The last few weeks, he’d gone to visit them two more times. Their base didn’t seem to be far away, as he always returned the same day, looking relieved to see you. He tried to hide it, but he seemed tense when he returned. Maybe if you tagged along, he’d be more at ease?
“I understand,” the demon smiles, pulling you closer and giving you a sweet kiss on your forehead, “I’d love for you to get to know them.”
“I can’t this week, with my work and the gala ball, but after that, perhaps-?”
He nods in agreement.
“They’ll be happy to have you. They’ve been wanting to meet you, you know.”
That gets your attention.
“They have? I thought they were mostly interested in you. Didn’t you say they do research?”
Damien sits upright and leans on his elbow, looking at you. His hand strokes over your curves while he takes you in pensively.
“They do. Technology and science really have advanced to an unbelievable level, these days. They are curious to see how what I can do can be explained. They couldn’t do that when I was asleep, you see.”
You can only nod and shrug. Science is not your forte, although you usually understand the broad lines of science fiction movie plots.
“And that concerns me… How?” you gently probe.
“Right. There is a bond between us,” Damien smiles when your eyes widen in understanding, “and they want to understand the science behind that. You don’t have to, but they’d love to do a few tests with you, if you would agree to it.”
You groan and sit upright, massaging your face. Right. Becoming a lab rat because of your partner was something you hadn’t thought about, but you could see the logic behind that.
“...Alright. I’ll take a day off next week. That reminds me, I haven’t asked how you found them. Geez. Sorry about that,” you grimace at him.
To your surprise, he gets a guilty look. He hesitates, then inhales and pushes through.
“About that… How about we pay James a visit?”