Chapter Text
“Where the fuck are the apples, human?”
Simon- or “Ghost”, as he insisted you call him- was leisurely sprawled out on your couch, filthy boots pressing against the armrest with his tail lazily sweeping near his feet.
You frowned deeply at him, arms crossed over your chest as you attempted to intimidate him. “I have a name, you know.”
Simon didn’t spare you a glance, finding it way more important to stretch his arms over his head like a domesticated house cat. “I’ll call you whatever I want, human.” To spite you further, he left bootprints all over the couch because he knew how much it grated on your nerves. “Where are the apples?”
That was your life since the past two and a half weeks.
Ever since you ran into him, and he decided to stick around.
And he did stick around. Like stubborn gum at the bottom of your shoe.
It would’ve been helpful if he was an obedient demon, but no, he walked around like he owned the place. Like he owned you. Ordering you around and munching on your food as though he’s the one budgeting groceries for the month.
It’s been a headache coming home exhausted from work, only to find that he ransacked the kitchen in your absence. And he always had the audacity to ask you for more.
“Go get the apples by yourself.” You snapped back at him, not moving from your spot, keeping up the disappointed stare and the judging frown. “You know where to find them.”
His tail lashed out in agitation, but you weren’t phased. Simon finally looked up at you, and his frown matched your own beneath the material of his mask.
Despite the mask that he wore, you could still make out his expressions and the peaking of his eyebrows whenever he drew them together.
“I am a demon.” He drawled out, making a show of beckoning you with his finger- the end of which had a nasty claw attached to it. “I make use of the humans around me.”
“Demon my ass.” You scoffed, finally dropping your hands from your chest and nudging his calfs. “You’re more of a child than an actual child. Now get your boots off the couch before I kick you out of the apartment for the rest of the night.”
Simon grumbled, rolling around and leaving more boots prints that irked you the longer you looked at them. Finally, after all the tossing and turning, he sat up- not without shooting you a dirty glare with his crimson eyes. “Such a bossy human you are.”
He raised his hand, pointing to your midriff. There, beneath the warm fabric of your hoodie, your skin burned and you winced as you felt the familiar shape of the seal binding you and Simon together- up until he fulfilled your wish.
“I get to boss you around until you complete your end of the deal.” You pressed a palm to your midriff to which Simon dropped his hand. He rolled his neck, joints popping softly with the motion. “Would you like for me to complete the deal soon?” It was less of a question and more of a taunt.
In one swift, fluid motion, Simon was on his feet, his boots echoing on the tiles of your apartment floor. The lights flickered above your head the closer he got to you. Tension boiled in the air, and you didn’t dare look away from his smug stare.
Simon towered over you. His eyes travelling over the length of your body in a slow, jerky motion. His tail danced around your feet, the scales occasionally scratching against your bare ankle.
The two of you remained silent. Caught in a battle of wits.
Simon grinned wide beneath his mask. “You wouldn’t, would you?” He tilted his head, dipping it lower so that his face was mere inches away from yours.
Still, you didn’t back down. Your heart hammered in your chest and your fists clenched at your side, fighting every instinct that scram at you to look away. To back down.
“It would be so boring without me, wouldnt you agree?” His voice dropped an octave. The crimson of his eyes danced as they flickered. The tingling, burning sensation that branded your skin erupted from your midriff, and you were sure the seal was glowing the colour of his eyes.
The roughness slithering up your ankle made you involuntarily glance down to his tail snaking up your leg, curling and pulsing around your thigh.
Something sharp dug into the soft flesh beneath your chin. Slowly, his claw tipped your chin up for you to stare at his taunting smirk. “Eyes up here, human.” His tail clamped around your thigh, painfully digging the sharp edges of its scales into your soft skin.
“And you like having me here, dont you, human?” His eyes bore into your soul. “You like having someone ordering you around.” Simons voice took on a raspy edge, smooth like a cat’s purr. “Making you feel less. Isnt that right?”
You flinched when his hand brushed your midriff. Simon grinned wide at your reaction. His fingers tenderly traced the outline of the seal- a circle with a special marking in the centre.
Not the usual five pointed star that you’d seen in horror films.
This one roughly resembled the outline of a skull.
Matching the one he used to cover his face.
“You like being bound to me.” Simons cold fingers found their way beneath your hoodie. “Mind, body and soul.” He chuckled darkly, leaning in to whisper his words into your ear, where they would lodge themselves into your mind till the day your deal with him came to an end.
“I bet your soul would taste sweet.” His tail unwinded itself from around your thigh, only to wrap around your waist, pulling your figure towards him.
You couldn’t fight him. Not with the spell his eyes had placed you under.
“Sweet like sin. Sweet like wine and temptation.” His hand curled around your jaw, puffing your cheeks out. He stared down at you, taking his sweet time to appreciate the effects his spell had under you.
“Don’t you look adorable..” Simons nose bumped your neck, brushing your fluttering pulse point. You swallowed hard, moistening your dry throat. “Stuck under my spell?”
Simon pulled away suddenly. Keeping you at arms length and chortling under his breath. “I could do this all night if you don’t give me my apples, human.”
His tail released you. He dropped his hands from your body and you gulped down a breath you didn’t know you needed desperately.
You rubbed your neck and brushed a finger to your midriff, conscious of the seal. “All that for fucking apples?”
Simon stalked off towards the kitchen, his tail poised high with pride, the slightest sway in his hips- parading his authority like a cat. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” He countered, turning to watch you walk past him. “Your body says what you can’t say.”
You slammed the fridge door open with more force than strictly necessary, opening the drawer and locating a Granny Smith Apple- his favourite. “Such a fucking asshole.” Muttering under your breath, you turned to toss him the apple.
Simon caught it with both hands, delight shining in the depths of his merciless eyes. Soon, the fabric over his mouth was pulled up just enough for his lips to be visible.
You watched with curiosity- as you had done many times before- as his tongue occasionally peaked out, showcasing the seal shared between the two of you, imprinted on his tongue.
Simon inhaled the apple. When he tossed the core onto the countertop, he glanced at you expectantly. You shrugged your shoulders to his silent question. “That was the last one. Gonna need to buy more.”
Simon shot you a nasty look as he pulled his balaclava back down. “You go out all day in the name of work, to not have apples available for me?” He scoffed. “Some job you’ve got.”
You winced at his words, but didn’t stop the brattiness from weaving itself into your words. “Maybe if you didn’t inhale a bag of twelve a day, there would be apples around.”
Simons tail swayed near his hip. “Nonsense.” He announced. “A demon needs sustenance. And my favourite just so happens to be the apples of grandma Smith- whoever she is.”
The look you gave him was comical. Narrowed with the sort of disbelief that came from finding out that a dog can eat your homework. “You’re fucking hopeless.”
The tiles were cold as you crossed the distance to the door of your room. Simon was quick to follow, staying at your heel. “What?” He leaned against the doorframe once you stepped inside the confines of your haven. “It’s not my fault you humans come up with such-“ he gestured with his hand in the air, waving his wrist in small circles. “-amusing names for simple items.”
“If you don’t like our names-“ you rifled through your cupboard, searching for an outfit for your night out.
It was Friday evening. And Friday evenings normally meant that you would go down to a nearby bar with your friend to drink your asses off, getting piss drunk to forget about work on Monday. But for the past two weeks, you had been putting it off, due to a certain someone deciding to stay glued to your side, but now, your friend was forcing you to join her at the bar- no excuses.
“-then go back to where you came from.”
“Hell ain't that fun, sweetheart.”
Simon continued to watch you tossing clothes onto your bed with growing curiosity. Finally, after searching the deepest archives of your cupboard, you had found a decent outfit. Nothing sexy- more on the casual side. Ripped jeans and a v-neck shirt, with an off-shoulder.
Enough to make you feel confident.
“You should really visit your home, y’know.” Turning on your heel, you faced him. “Go spend a night in hell. Get with the demon chicks and whatnot.” You tossed your outfit onto your bed, far away from the other clothes. Then, you approached Simon with hurried steps.
His eyebrows twitched at your words, amusement colouring his eyes. “It doesn’t work that way, human.” He straightened up when you reached for the door handle. “And I’ve already spent more than a few nights with the birds in-“
You slammed the door in his face. He made a gurgling sound of frustration, muffled by the door. The lock clicked when you turned the key, and with that slight security measure in place, you marched back to your bed and began stripping your clothes off.
The jeans sat low on your hips, and just as you were pulling your shirt over your heard, you heard a tut coming from behind you.
“It’s rude to slam doors in people’s faces.”
Simon was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. You jumped back a little at the sight of him in your room when you had just locked him out.
“How the fuck did you get in?” You slipped your head through the shirt and adjusted it over your body. “Do you have some pickpocketing powers I should know about? Teleportation?”
“I phased through the door.” He sounded exhausted.
“Oh.” The silence that followed after was loud.
“Were you standing there the whole time?”
Simon grunted. “Since you slammed the door, yes.” You felt your face heating up at the audacity this demon had to phase through your door and watch you change. “And you couldn’t say a word?”
He smacked his lips, tasting the words he was about to say. “Was enjoying the view.” Simon sounded bored. “Didn’t want to cut my show short.”
“Pervert.” You mumbled under your breath as you walked to your vanity. Simon advanced further into the room, plopping onto your bed with a grunt and the creaking of the springs. “I’m a demon, sweetheart. Sin is my middle name.”
You started working on your makeup, focusing on the cat eye. “I’d expect you to have a little more shame than that.”
Simon frowned, and you could see it through the floor mirror. “Don’t offend me.” You pulled away from the mirror once you were satisfied with the angle of your eyeliner. Afterwards, you completed your makeup, keeping it light, all the while your eyes occasionally flickered to his boots on your sheets.
“Sometimes I wish you were a vampire.” You sighed as you worked an earring through the hole in your helix.
You could see his eyebrow raise even with the mask obstructing hus face. “You would rather I be a blood suckling, allergic to garlic, can’t walk in the sun vampire, rather than a demon who could fulfill your dreams through a deal?” He pressed his boot to your bedsheet.
Your eye twitched. “At least with a vampire they can’t enter my home until I give them permission. You on the other hand-“ you whirled on him, marching over to him and smacking his foot with the back of your hand. “Phase through doors and have a weird obsession with leaving your bootprints all over my nice things.”
Simon dropped his feet to the ground with a thud, along with an eye roll and the slightest narrowing of his eyes. “So fussy. And these sheets aren’t even that pleasing to look at.” He stared at the prints he left on your pink sheets. “Could use a little more of my boot prints. Would make it a little more-“ he smacked his lips audibly. “Interesting.”
You glared down at him, frustration starting to slowly simmer in your veins the longer he loafed around your apartment without helping or doing anything of purpose. “Do that and I’ll make sure to never get apples ever again.” It was fine. You’d visit the doctor everyday if it meant that it kept Simon away.
Simons frown was deep. Visible with his mask on. “You’re so prickly today. Bad day at work?” He leaned onto his closed fist. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
You scoffed. Stomped away from him and back to your vanity to finish off your preparations for the night. “Dont give me that bullshit, Ghost.” Your rings slid onto your fingers with smooth efficiency. “Being my therapist wasn’t part of the deal.”
Silence followed after that. You were too busy smoothing the fabric of your shirt over your stomach to bother filling it in with idly chatter. But what you did notice was the way Simon stood and slowly approached you.
You followed his reflection with your eyes. He didn’t make a sound when he moved, and it creeped you out more than you wanted to admit, the closer he came to you.
Simon stopped directly behind you, your back brushing his chest with every breath he took. His eyes were glued on your reflection, and you followed them trailing down your body.
“Y’know sweetheart.” His voice was low, tinged with the amusement that always accompanied whenever he watched you go about with your day.
His tail swished and twitched for a while near your thighs, before it wrapped around your waist and tugged you backwards, your back flush against his chest. Simons hands clamped down onto your arms, steadying you and keeping you in place.
The mirror could see your glare pointed at the demon appreciating your dolled-up form. It was too late for him to start with his antics after driving you crazy with his actions.
“You never did tell me why you’re dressing up.” Simon pressed his chin to your shoulder with familiarity as his arm snaked around your chest, up the valley of your breasts to lock your jaw in place, ensuring that you were staring at him through the mirror.
“I don’t have to tell you.” You feigned nonchalance, fingers twitching at your sides. You kept your eyes on the top of his head, rather than the crimson trap you could fall into.
“Oh but you do.” Simon’s voice dropped an octave. It was low and smooth and ruffling a feather deep in your lower belly. “As your demon, I should know about your whereabouts.” His other arm circled your midriff, clawed fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. “To keep you safe and…” warm air tickled your ear. “appetising.”
He chuckled deeply, eyes closing with his laughter. You remained unmoving, staring at his fingers slipping beneath your shirt and tracing the seal near your hip. Your breath hitched when that burning sensation flared up and warmed your skin.
“My soul will remain appetising, believe me.” You tried to turn back to face him, but his hand on your jaw kept you securely locked in place, staring at him as he touched and teased your body.
“But you could die.” He mused. “Car accident, overdose, alcohol poisoning…” Simon pressed his hips against the curve of your ass, adjusting his stance by widening the space between his legs and groaning softly at the slightest friction. “And that means I won’t be able to enjoy your soul. It would be tainted, rotten by death and other demons that could have at your wandering soul.” His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your cheeks and you fought against a wince.
“No. I want to feast on your soul whilst you’re still alive.” His fingers raised the hem of your shirt inch by slow, taunting inch. You watched with quickly flushing skin as the edge of the seal peaked out from under the fabric. “So I’ll ask you again. Where are you going?” His tone brooked no argument, and the predatory intensity with which he was staring at you with left your nerves humming.
You sighed, reluctantly. “Drinking with a friend.” Simon hummed deep with approval, and as much as you hated to admit it even to yourself, that sound sent pleasant thoughts to your brain.
“And does this friend of yours happen to be a man?” His fingers resumed their seemingly tender caresses on your hip as he watched your face for any sign of deception.
Simon’s breath was warm against the skin of your neck. “Does it matter?” Wrong answer. His tail around your waist wound tighter, making it difficult to take a proper deep breath. Still, you pushed for a jab. “Didn’t pin you to be the jealous type, Ghost.”
“Jealousy is a sin.” His grip on your jaw tightened. He adjusted his legs behind you, slotting a knee between your legs and pressing it against your sensitive core. Air stuck to your throat. The lights were growing dizzying the longer he held you. “So I am jealous. As I should be.”
The hand on your hip momentarily left your body to tug his balaclava up, revealing his mouth. Then it was back on your body, roughly pulling your shirt up to your chest, revealing his mark on your body. A crimson circle with a skull in the centre.
You stared at the reflection of the seal for a while. Then you looked up at his reflection when you felt a wet sensation on your neck.
Simon was licking a clean strip of skin from your shoulder up to your pulse point, maintaining eye contact and parading the seal he too had on his tongue. “We are bound by contract.” He tilted your head to the side, granting himself access to more of your skin.
You watched, equal parts horror and desire, as saliva trickled down his tongue, collecting into a thick, heavy drop, then falling onto your skin with filthy grace. It sent shivers down your spine watching him lick more and more of your skin, no doubt tasting the salt of your sweat.
“So fucking possessive.” You murmured with half lidded eyes that watched the lapping of his tongue. If only he moved his tongue a little lower- between your legs.
“You’re my property, sweetheart. I own you from the moment you agreed to my deal.” Simon’s hand worked down your waist, brushing your hip and settling between your legs. Not yet in your pants, and not yet where you needed him to touch you.
Breathing was costing you a lot, and your chest heaved with each ragged breath you took. At the very least, he loosened the death grip his tail had around your waist. “I can still order you around. Contract states that you obey my commands until you fulfill your end of the deal.” Your words were breathy. Weighed down by hunger.
Simon was nibbling on your neck with soft grunts and groans, working on leaving more of his mark on your body. “That doesn’t change the fact that your soul is mine.” His finger traced the seam of your lips, occasionally brushing your lower lip. Then his finger prodded your sealed lips with urgency.
Without hesitation, you parted your lips for him, allowing his finger to nestle deep into the warmth of your mouth. Simon watched with twisted satisfaction as you took it in without problem. “Now suck on it.”
The only tell of your reluctance was the saliva you swallowed around his finger. You hollowed your cheeks out and worked your tongue on his finger, swirling it around the tip, and back down the length.
You weren’t looking at the mirror anymore. It was too revealing to see how embarrassing easy you took his finger in, and of course, Simon noticed. “I want you to watch as you suck on my finger.” He guided your face to stare back at the mirror with the hand on your jaw. “I’m allowing you to watch how desperate you look. Appreciate the effort it took.” Simon pushed his finger further down, prodding the back do your tongue and activating your gag reflex. Instinctively, your tongue curled around his finger as you gagged.
“That’s it.” He cooed, slowly easing out of your throat. “You can soon gag and choke on my dick all you want, sweetheart.” His finger slipped out of your mouth with a wet pop.
You were left panting, knees threatening to buckle. Simon was unfazed by your condition, instead slipping two finger knuckle deep into your mouth and watching as you sucked and hollowed out your cheeks for him.
His other hand was growing restless. The sound of your jeans zipper opening intertwined with the sloppy sound of you slurping around his fingers.
You let out a soft moan when he pushed your pants down to your thighs. Simon growled beside your ear, kneading the supple flesh of your thighs and watching your reflection with laser intensity. You gripped his arm, steadying yourself from toppling down onto your knees.
You watched, through the mirror, as his tail unwinded from around your waist and settled between your legs, applying steady pressure to your clit through the fabric of your lacy panty. Your eyes fluttered shut at the pleasure that washed over your body, a whimper on your tongue.
Simon was hyper focused on the task at hand. “You like that, dont you, sweetheart?” He pressed his lips to your ear, breath tickling the sensitive skin there. Your nod was jerky, and your mouth stopped working around his fingers.
Tingles erupted when his fingers pushed your soaked panties to the side and cool air kissed the overheated skin of your sex. Simon’s fingers worked dangerously close to your clit, but never actually touching you.
You were growing frustrated for all the wrong reasons. Your eyes flew open when he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and wiped the saliva onto your cheek. The sight of it filled you with shameful heat.
“So fucking slutty you are.” His words were cruel. Despite the flinch that overcame you, a deeper, darker part fed off his words. “Look at yourself.” He whispered, and when you refused to meet his eyes in the mirror he huffed, as though exhausted of your constant disobedience.
“Look at yourself sweetheart.” You shook your head and kept your eyes glued to the ground. Simon gave you two seconds before he grunted in frustration and peeled his tail away from your clit and redirected its relentless force to your chin.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, the first thing that you noticed was the wetness glistening on your chin from where his tail rested, no doubt a product of how turned on you were. It was embarrassing. Then it was your flushed skin, rumbled clothing and the pace at which your chest rose and fell that caught your eye.
Beside you, Simon beamed the more your face fell. Thoroughly pleased by how pathetic you looked for a demon nonetheless. The chuckle that sounded from his chest stabbed at your dignity and fuelled the fire of shame and anger in your heart-
“Not even the birds in hell looked half as bad as you.”
So why, for gods sake, were you turned on and moaning the longer he insulted you?
“Sounded better too.” His eyes flicked over your form. Whatever he saw must’ve satisfied him, because he finally, finally, slipped his hand into your panties and ran a finger through your pulsing slit.
Simon hissed sharp. You mewled and nearly fell to your knees. Simon found importance in keeping you upright rather than forcing you to stare at yourself. His tail was snug around your waist, keeping you glued to his body.
“Hell.” He rasped. “So fucking responsive, even after all my insults.” He dipped a finger into your warmth. Your pussy allowed him permeable without a fight. His groan was deeper when his finger was knuckle deep into your cunt.
“Filthy fucking human.” Simon adjusted your shared stance, kicking your legs wider and angling your body back to get a glimpse of your flushed sex in the mirror. “All that bark about me having no power over you, whilst your cunt was weeping for me.” Simon’s second finger slipped in with ease. The third faced resistance compared to the first two. He grunted and pressed his arousal against your ass, rocking his hips slightly to pleasure himself in the process.
“Ghost…” nail marks were sure to be left on his arms from how hard you were gripping them. Your eyelids threatened to shut, but you forced them open. Partly to appease Simon, and partly to watch the show he was so kindly allowing you to see.
“Don’t call me Ghost when I’m three fingers deep inside you.” His eyes shimmered ruby red. At the same time, the seal at your hip glowed the same colour and Simon stuck his tongue out to reveal that his seal was also glowing. “My name. Say it.”
His thumb pressed against your clit. All thought left your head in an instance, leaving behind mush and a hunger for sex.
Simon’s fingers increased their pace and his hips rocked harder against your ass. Clearly he was growing impatient. “Say it. Say my name.”
Your back arched off Simon’s chest and your mouth fell open in a needy moan. “Si- mnngh- Simon..!” You watched your mouth form those words. Heard them ringing in your ear. Picked up on how stupid and needy you sounded.
Yet you still watched his eyes for that glint of satisfaction that tipped you closer to the edge.
“What a fucking good girl.” His own breath came out in short bursts. “Keep that up and I will never complete our contract.” Simon bit down on your neck drawing a cry from your throat. Tears decorated your waterline when he applied more pressure. You weren’t certain of what he was doing until he pulled back and revealed blood where his teeth had punctured your skin.
He looked pleased with himself. Licking his lips and lapping at your blood for more. He groaned in deep satisfaction at whatever he tasted in your blood. “Should’ve bonded our contract in blood.”
Your breath hitched. Your walls fluttered around his fingers at his words. Your body was betraying you in every way possible and Simon looked absolutely proud of it.
And he was going to reward you for it. After all, a sweet, responsive body like yours deserved the toe curling orgasm he had every intention of delivering.
“I wonder-“ he started, circling your clit with renewed vigour. Cries of pleasure and begs for more spilled out of your mouth faster than you could stop them. Anymore and you would be reduced to a blabbering, sex-high mess. “If your blood tastes this sweet, how sweet would your soul taste?”
Simons pondering was cut short when your walls spasmed around his finger and your words tripped and slurred over one another. Skilfully, he curled his fingers upwards towards the spot that had your toes curling and stars to burst behind your eyes.
“Simon, I’m gonna cum.” Your words were a mess, almost as sloppy as the sounds your cunt was making the faster Simon moved his fingers to watch you cum around them.
“Do it soon.” He tipped your chin up and lightly smacked your cheek, reminding you to keep your eyes open and watching. “And make sure you cum sloppy.”
Whatever nasty comeback you had brewing on your tongue was lost when ripple after ripple of pleasure clawed up your spine and tensed your muscles. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your mouth fell open in a mewl and your pussy clamped down onto Simon’s fingers, halting them in their merciless assault on your g-spot.
Simon hissed through his teeth, rubbing and grinding against your ass as your body grew weightless and all sensations were lost to you.
You came out of your high panting. Simon stood behind you the whole time, keeping you snug against his body and never letting you fall to the ground. You stared at the reflection, a lopsided grin forming on your face.
You stared at your red cheeks, at the rapid rise and fall of yoir chest as you attempted to regain control of your breathing. You stared at the seal marking your soul as his property. You stared at his hand between yoir legs.
You fixated on that. When Simon regained his own bearings, he pulled his fingers from your cunt, watching the slickness glisten in the light. Then he brought it up to his mouth, staring into your eyes through the mirror as he wrapped his tongue around the digits, sucking them clean of your essence.
Simons knees nearly buckled. He cleaned his finger thoroughly, and you watched the whole time with a renewed fire growing once again in your belly. Simon released his fingers with a wet pop. “I’m looking forward to feasting on your soul.” He made on last show of licking his fingers, seal peeking with each pass of his tongue. “Might be the sweetest one I’ll ever devour.”
Simon’s tail unwinded from around your waist. He pulled back and dropped his hands from your body, and you were already frowning at the loss of contact. One look at your clothes and the activation of one of your fried braincells reminded you that you had a friend waiting for you at the bar.
You adjusted your shirt, pulling it over your waist, and you adjusted your jeans to sit snuggly on your hip. You zipped you pants up, and when you turned towards Simon, you couldn’t help the scoff and the quirking of your lips.
Turns out, you weren’t the only one who had came from that. There was a dark patch growing on the front of his pants, and he did not look one bit bothered or embarrassed by it.
“Good night, hey Simon.” You teased him, eyes flitting between his blood red eyes and his pants. He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hardly.” He turned back to you, eyes softening around the corners. “Dont we have a bar to go to?”
You raised an eyebrow. “We? I think you mean me.”
He tutted softly and leaned down to your eye level. “I mean we, sweetheart. Gotta keep an eye on my next meal.”
Your eyes raked over his form, settling on his dancing tail. “You can’t exactly go out with a tail. You’ll grab attention with that thing.” You paused to sneer at him. “People will ask if it’s coming out of your ass.”
Simon straightened. Then he snapped his fingers once, and by some miraculous feat, the previous clothing which he was wearing had disappeared and been switched out for something more casual. A shirt and jeans. Something that scram a college student or a working man. Even his skull mask had been switched out for a simpler, surgical mask. And his hair was let out. Short brown hair that was combed back, hiding the smallest peaks of the horns you didn’t know he had.
As for his tail? It was neatly wrapped around his waist, seemingly a belt to a person who didn’t know any better.
You whistled low, impressed at this new version of him. “Colour me surprised. You can change.” You nodded towards the door and started walking towards it. Simon fell into step behind you as you exited the room.
His hand slipped into yours as you unlocked the front door. You stared up at him and he looked ahead. “Of course I can change. I’m a demon, not a cripple.”
You chuckled at that. He tugged you forward and out the door, making sure to keep his fingers intertwined with your own.
Perhaps they will remain intertwined till the day he decides to complete the deal and feast on your soul.