Well, here we are. The end of this journey.

I have ideas for a third (and final) installment of Alastor's and Grace's adventures but they are mostly things I wanted to touch upon since the first story and couldn't because we didn't yet have information that was presented in Hazbin Hotel's second season.

That is to say, I'm not convinced that justifies a whole other story.

I know the series I've parodied with my story titles (Fifty Shades of Grace/Fifty Shades Crazier) has a third story so if my goal is completion, I should do a third as well.

But it's really hard to find the motivation when I've watched interest plummet in what I've written. At the end of the day, I do it for myself and for the enjoyment of it. And in recent weeks, my interest has turned to my other hobbies.

So ...

This may be the end. It may not be. If you've enjoyed what I do, let me know. I don't bite. Honestly, I'm a kind and gentle person who has a challenging and stressful dayjob, and more challenging and stressful home life, but who follows deer fawn rescues on social media and literally cries over roadkill. And if you think I'm drowning in feedback, you couldn't be more wrong. It's all crickets and tumbleweed out here.

Anyway, without further indecision and whining ado, here's the final chapter of Fifty Shades Crazier. If there's interest (see the above paragraph), I'll do another hardcover copy give-away. SHE THICC.

Upon their largely uncelebrated return to the hotel, Alastor asked Charlie to give Grace a wardrobe cabinet for his room so that she could—in no uncertain terms—properly, finally and fully, move in with him. Grace subsequently asked Charlie to remove anything blue from the clothing she’d made for her. In return, Charlie whipped up a beautiful piece of furniture that matched the theme and existing decor of Alastor’s room, and filled it with a variety of new outfits in every color of the rainbow—except, of course, for blue. She even made some outfits for Grace that appeared to cater specifically to Alastor’s tastes from color to style.

The other hotel residents left the pair alone and the first couple days back at the hotel were spent in the quiet confines of Alastor’s bayou, with only Grace venturing out to bring back food for them both. Although she didn’t fetch him raw, rotting deer carcass, he made no complaint about the meals she brought him.

It was, surprisingly enough, Alastor to insist they join the other residents for a meal. Grace begrudgingly agreed. She worried Alastor was still too weak, and she definitely didn’t have the energy to socialize. Hunkering down and hiding from the world outside was so much easier.

They were the last to join the bunch around the dining room table. 

Kofax greeted them with a big smile but addressed Alastor: “Radio Demon. You’re looking well.”

His response was to flash a grateful smile at Grace.

As expected, Grace’s phone buzzed immediately after.

Conversation was lively around the table that evening. 

Grace finally forced herself to issue a long-overdue apology to Husk. She didn’t know what she expected or even wanted in return, but the ease of which he accepted it was unnerving at best.

And of course, she argued. “I said such awful things to you—”

“Grace.” Husk smiled at her from a few seats over. “Regardless of whether you think you deserve forgiveness, I want to give it to you.”

“But—”

“In forgiving you, I’m freeing myself of the resentment I had for the things you said.” Husk’s gaze flicked to a very pleased-looking Charlie and then back to Grace. “I’ve learned some things in your absence.”

“And I clearly need to attend more of Charlie’s exercises, don’t I?” Grace sighed. “Please be patient with me … It’s gonna take a while before I can accept that.”

Husk grinned. “We’ve got nothing but time. Right?”

“Right.”

Alastor leaned in, whispering in Grace’s ear: “Quit chatting with Husker. Pay attention to me.”

Grace pressed her lips together in a tight smile; she knew he was doing this for no reason other than to get a rise out of her. And it was working. “I should be eating,” she murmured without glancing toward him. “And so should you.”

In response, he dropped several soft kisses on her shoulder.

She was well aware the group around the table had fallen silent. Without looking around, she knew they were the center of attention. And his attention was driving her more than a bit crazy. Still smiling, she whispered stiffly, “Quit it.”

Another series of buzzes from Grace’s phone interrupted their exchange.

“But why would I want to eat when I could, instead, make you blush?” Alastor whispered once more in her ear. “My sweet.”

Grace cast a glance at him out of the corner of her eye and said sternly, “Eat. Unless you wanna have to go back to the hospital.”

That remark earned her a little bit of antler and a smiling scowl. “Was that a threat?”

“No, that was prognostication based upon education and subsequent years of experience. Fucking. Eat. Alastor.”

Still antlered up, Alastor turned his attention from her to the food.

She spared a glance at her phone.

Snickers broke out across the dining room table.

It had proven difficult for Grace to get it out of her head that Alastor was fallible, fragile, and—most frightening yet—capable of being ripped away from her at any moment.

It was for that reason, almost exclusively, that she hadn’t pursued him in any amorous capacity once they returned from the hospital.

The dust from their showdown with Vox had settled and things around the hotel had gone back to normal—or as normal as they could be at a hotel meant for redeeming sinners condemned to Hell.

Husk seemed to genuinely have forgiven Grace her transgressions against him and even apologized for giving her ipecac when she couldn’t defend herself from it. And to prove that there were no hard feelings on her end, she managed to turn that into a joke.

Grace wanted nothing more than intimacy with this demon Overlord but each time sexy thoughts surfaced in her mind, she’d close her eyes only to see Alastor in that hospital bed with the dressing on the side of his chest and the IV in his arm, his glassy-eyed stare locked on the ceiling tiles.

A week had gone by since Alastor and Grace returned to the hotel. Grace had made a point of attending each of Charlie’s lessons in that time and Charlie had made a point of focusing on forgiveness—both giving it and receiving it. Charlie’s reasoning for rehashing the same topic was that some souls needed more time to absorb some subjects properly.

That day had been a busy one: Charlie’s exercise bright and early, then a lot of shopping. Probably more shopping than she should have done given her tight budget. 

Despite Alastor’s glower and overall threatening aura back at its full strength, Cherri, Angel, and Kofax then took Grace out to the nearby bowling alley. After dinner, in what maybe was an attempt to show he wasn’t possessive at all over Grace and that there were no hard feelings for the three stealing her from him, Alastor put on a couple of the earliest talkies for the group to watch: Don Juan and The Scarlet Lady.

The group dispersed after the latter ended; all save Kofax, that is. She got to her knees on the carpet before where Grace and Alastor snuggled beneath a shared blanket on the loveseat.

She asked with her gaze trained on Grace, “Do you recall what I told you before you two left for Vee Tower?”

Grace blinked, glanced around, blinked again. Then she took a total stab in the dark: “… Have fun storming the castle?”

“I appreciate the Princess Bride reference, but no.” Kofax snorted. “And that’s exactly what I thought. I told you to call me if you get into trouble.”

Feeling uncomfortable with the weight of Kofax’s stare, Grace glanced uncertainly at Alastor.

“You’ve seen the video that got leaked to all the news sites so you know I hacked into Vox’s surveillance cameras. Did you ever stop to wonder why I did that?”

“For shits and giggles?” Grace guessed.

“I did it for the sole purpose of keeping my eye on you. You, Grace Bedgood, are Hell’s most stubborn soul ever.”

Grace’s mouth fell open in a gape. “Excuse me?! I’m not stubborn! You are!”

Kofax and Alastor laughed in unison; a single outburst, “Ha!”

Kofax continued, “I knew you’d get into trouble. Not because you couldn’t handle yourself but because you lacked the confidence to handle yourself. And I also knew when you got into trouble that you wouldn’t call me for help like I told you to.”

Grace sat back in a brooding huff.

Alastor squeezed her around the shoulders gently.

“Do you know, Radio Demon, how Grace got out of her contract with Vox?” Kofax asked him.

Oh. Shit. I never told him about that, did I? Well, he hadn’t asked. She supposed what mattered to him was just that she got out of it.

Alastor’s eyebrows pinched together and he shook his head. Kofax flipped her phone around and shared additional footage from that fateful showdown with Vox: specifically, Grace shoving the chopstick against a broken-faced Vox’s throat, and the sheer abject glee in her eyes when she threatened him.

She kind of hated how much she still didn’t hate that she’d enjoyed that moment so much.

Alastor said nothing while he watched, utterly enthralled. Grace could feel his breathing quicken.

It was past midnight by then, and once the video showed Grace fleeing from the view of the surveillance cameras, Kofax turned off her phone. “Just thought you’d wanna see that, R.D.”

Grace ducked her head, cheeks burning with flush. 

“What happened to Vox’s face?” Alastor asked.

After a lengthy hesitation, Grace finally replied, “My foot happened to it. Also, did I ever mention to you that I used to play soccer?”

Alastor’s smile went to a grin. “How utterly, sinfully delicious.”

“I can show you that footage, too, if you wanna see it.” Kofax stood and stretched in her spot. “But that needs to be another time. I need to get to bed.”

“We really should be getting our rest,” Alastor said quietly. “You especially, Little Fawn.”

“Good night, you two.” Kofax paused in the alcove’s archway and glanced over her shoulder. “Have fun and sweet dreams!”

Alastor led the way back to their bedroom where Grace elected to put on the little red lace teddy Kofax had given her for Christmas. She knew it would do her no good with Alastor. And in a way, that was reassuring, since she was still too terrified to do anything remotely sexual with him.

Though she’d regained some of the weight she’d lost during her captivity at Vee Tower, the teddy was still a little loose all over. Nonetheless, if Alastor leaned that way, she’d be irresistible to him. Which he didn’t. So he wouldn’t.

And that was fine by Grace; really, actually, and truly fine. She wanted to look sexy for her own benefit. Velvette had, oddly enough, reminded her that that was a perfectly valid thing.

When she emerged from the bathroom in Alastor’s—their—bedroom, Alastor was waiting for her in their bed. He waved her over. After his eyes swept her frame, he remarked, “Well, well. Look at you: all dressed up for me.”

Grace’s heart fluttered. That had almost sounded like he recognized she was sexy. Whether or not he truly felt that she was, at least he could tell she was trying. That felt like an epic victory.

She climbed beneath the covers and snuggled against him, careful to avoid the bandage on his side where the Angelic Steel beskad had been. Her chest clenched at the mere thought of it.

Alastor’s arms closed around her shoulders, fingertips grazing her skin with the lightest touch.

“You faced-off with Vox and won. Are you interested in being an Overlord now?”

“I dunno, Radio Demon.” She stretched against him with a yawn. “That sounds exhausting. Most days, I don't even want to be responsible for myself.”

“Think about it, my dear.”

Grace didn’t think he was being serious but that last comment made her a little less sure of that. “I will. Gimme actual time, for once, to think about it?”

Alastor chuckled. “No.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

In the ensuing silence, his breathing slowed and deepened. Grace was certain he’d dozed, which meant she was safe to do so, herself. Would this hyper-vigilance over Alastor ever ebb? If her time as the mother of an autistic boy had taught her anything, it was that the answer to such questions was a resounding no.

But then he made a quiet comment: “I fear I’ve been a bad influence on you.”

“No, Spots, you haven’t. You’re actually the first to see my true colors. Well, second, I suppose, since Kofax apparently caught the live show of me going head-to-screen with Vox.” She chuckled despite herself. “With a fucking chopstick! I think someday someone should tell him that.” She took a long, deep breath. “You’re the first soul I’ve ever known—in life, and after—to let me be comfortable—” She faltered because that wasn’t exactly entirely truthful, “—being the spiteful, vindictive, petty, terribly jealous person I am.”

When he failed to reply, Grace thought maybe he liked her less now that she revealed just how awful she truly was. Maybe she should have denied her awfulness and claim she behaved like that out of necessity.

Maybe she would’ve been better off letting him think he’d corrupted her. If he preferred her sweet and innocent—the way she was prior to him—there was the possibility she could be uncorrupted with enough of Charlie’s interventions and he would like her more again.

She needed to know in no uncertain terms: “Do you like me less now?”

Rather than answering her question—concerning on its own—Alastor told her, “I did have a car when I was alive, you know.”

Grace’s eyebrows darted upward. “After you became a famous radio host?”

“Heavens, no!” he replied through his laughter. “There was a Ford Model A Roadster in Aurora Red that I'd taken a shine to. It was the only one on the block and already had an owner.”

“Alastor—” Grace warned, figuring this story was headed the same direction as his frog story.

Despite her tone, he concluded, “Its very tasty owner suffered an unfortunate axe accident before it mysteriously wound up in my possession.”

She exhaled heavily. You can take the radio from the demon but you can’t take the cannibal serial killer from the Radio Demon, I guess?

How the fuck do I even reply to that?

Alastor resolved her internal question by breaking the ensuing silence with a quiet, “I’ve been feeling disconnected from you.”

Grace lifted her head to meet his gaze. “You were more than welcome to go bowling with us, you know.” Though, somehow, she couldn’t picture him actually playing that game.

“That’s not what I’m referring to.”

Grace frowned.

“I think I’m beginning to understand the value of intimacy.”

Now she pulled from his embrace and sat upright, staring at Alastor, wide-eyed. 

“You look exceptionally bitable in that lingerie, Little Fawn.”

She thought her heart had stopped momentarily. One of the teddy’s straps slipped from her shoulder. “What are you saying?”

Alastor reached for the fallen strap, playing with it. Tugging it further down her arm. “I’m feeling amorous.”

Okay, that’s what I thought. And also, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Grace was presently experiencing the allosexual counterpart to ‘ace panic.’ More calmly in speech than in thought, Grace replied, “I don’t wanna hurt you, my Murder Muffin.”

“I assure you, I’m fine. I’ve been fine since I came home. But …” His smile went crooked. “I could be fine … r?”

Shiiiiiit! “I …” Grace swallowed hard and whispered on a shaking breath, “I’m scared.”

Of what, exactly, she really didn’t know. It wasn’t as though she could break him, not any more than he’d already been broken—before they met, or since. She certainly couldn’t fall any more in love with him than she already had. Worst case scenario? She blurted those three little words that had been lodged in her throat for far too long. 

She could always laugh it off as a ‘heat of the moment’ kind of thing.

If he didn’t bolt promptly afterward.

“What if …” Alastor lifted her face gently by the chin and caught her gaze. “What if I’m still a little weak and couldn’t control what sorts of noises I make in the throes of passion?”

She rested her hand on his chest. No flinch. Not even the hint of one. “What would it take for you to moan my name?”

His hand drifted from her chin, trailing light scratches down the center of her throat as he went. “Surprisingly little, I think.”

And that was all it took to persuade her.

Despite her trepidation, Grace pulled Alastor to his feet and helped him out of his pajamas; she trailed kisses all over his skin with each garment she removed, working her way from top to bottoms.

She ended up kneeling before him, stroking the tops of his thighs with her palms and scratching ever-so-lightly with her fingernails. Steadily but slowly, she worked her way to his balls, caressing them with a soft touch. Cupping them, massaging them. After a few moments, she put her mouth to them, starting with kisses before progressing to licks and then sucking one into her mouth gently.

He stiffened—all over.

“You sure know how to turn on a radio,” Alastor said haltingly.

Grace chuckled, letting the laugh ripple through his sac; his whole body seemed to vibrate, too. With her lips still pressed to his delicate flesh, she murmured a haughty, “You’re damn right I do, Radio Daddy.”

Now that he was aroused, Grace adjusted her position on her knees and kissed her way up and down his shaft, tickled his frenulum with playful flicks of the tip of her tongue, sucked his head into her mouth, letting her drool dribble down her chin.

Judging by how his breathing and posture hadn’t changed, Alastor was doing his damnedest to maintain his composure. Grace was equally determined to make him lose it.

“Look at your submissive Little Fawn, my Demon Overlord,” she breathed, drawing his gaze right down to hers. Holding his stare, she added, “Look at how she worships every part of you.”

Look at how she loves all of you.

I’ll say that someday. Somehow.

Grace wrapped her hand around the base of his hard cock, using it to smear the mixture of her drool and his pre-cum across her chest. She then sandwiched it in her cleavage, squeezing her tits together as she bowed her head and added more lube by way of her spit.

She expected she’d have to put in all the work here and was thrilled when he took control, pumping his cock between her slick breasts.

“Doesn’t that feel good, Alastor?” Grace exhaled, jiggling her tits a little to enhance the sensation.

He was breathing raggedly now, his thrusts coming harder and faster. He seemed to struggle in replying, “So good …”

Grace once more dipped her head to capture the tip of his cock with her lips each time he surged upward between her tits.

“You are magnificent,” she moaned. “I love it—” whoa, close one! “—when you use me like this.”

His head fell back, hands finding then fisting the wisps of hair framing her face. Whether or not it was his intent, he tugged on her with each thrust.

“Tell me your name, big boy,” Grace said, her voice husky.

“I—I’m—” thrust thrust thrust thrust! “—yours!” he moaned as his seed spilled in several spurts up onto her collarbone.

He released her hair and stumbled back a couple steps with heaving, shuddering breaths.

“And don’t you forget it,” she said with a smirk, satisfied that she had, in fact, seemingly made him forget his name as she’d promised she would—at least, for one delightful moment.

Alastor looked down at her, post-nut clarity beginning to settle in. “I’m so sorry—”

Grace stood slowly. “What for?”

“I—I thought—I had more time before—” he gestured to his cum decorating her chest. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to.”

“Are you kidding me?” She grinned. “This is a badge of honor my titties earned! I love the pearl necklace you gave me!” Grace slid her middle finger through the pool of cum that had settled into her jugular notch, bringing it to her lips and suckling it clean while holding Alastor’s gaze, moaning her satisfaction.

“What about you?”

Grace blinked. “What about me?”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“Oh, Spots.” She smiled. “Having the honor of pleasuring you like that does make me feel good. Can't you understand that?”

Frustration flared in his eyes. “Bend over the edge of the mattress, Grace.”

She swallowed thickly but promptly obeyed; the look in Alastor’s eyes warned her that this was not the time for her to be bratty.

Alastor came up behind her; from the feel of his flaccid cock resting on her ass cheek, he wasn’t ready for another round yet.

What, then, were his intentions with her?

Alastor leaned over her, taking her arms and positioning them, outstretched, above her head. He then ran his hands down them, stopping at her head to caress and fondle her horns.

Grace moaned and shuddered at his touch.

He raked his fingers through her hair, positioning it down the center of her back, grazing her skin with his claws around the straps of her teddy.

She fully expected he would tear into the garment but he seemed to be exercising utmost care with it.

Alastor caressed her ass and kneeled at the bedside, spreading her thighs with his hands and using his thumb to slide the crotch of the teddy off to one side.

“What’re you—” Grace’s question dissolved into a long moan as Alastor buried his face in her pussy. “Oh my god—” she gasped, pulling the bedsheets into tight fists.

He kneaded her thighs with his fingers as he explored her with his mouth, spreading her pussy’s lips with a moan of his own to lap up her arousal from pleasuring him.

Alastor brought her to the brink of orgasm and retreated—Grace assumed—to edge her into oblivion.

Then she felt his stiff cock rubbing across her ass before he repositioned himself and broached her gently. “Oh, Grace,” he moaned, as if luxuriating in the sound of her name on his tongue, “you fit me so perfectly. I feel like you were made just for me.”

He wound her hair around his hand, tugging it gently.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she exhaled through pursed lips. “I truly believe I was.”

“You’re my good Little Fawn.” He pulled out and teased her entrance with the tip of his cock before pressing into her gently again.

Grace moaned her reply: “You’re my one and only.”

“Stay with me forever.”

She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I go where you go. I promise.”

He retreated again.

Yep. Definitely gonna edge me into oblivion.

He ran his right hand up and down his cock.

I stand corrected; he’s gonna come all over my back.

But instead, he thrust into her again, caressing her ass cheek with his now slickened hand. Bit by bit, his hand creeped toward her crack, then he slipped his thumb between her cheeks and rubbed her with the same rhythm as his thrusts.

As Alastor gained momentum, Grace’s whole body trembled with want for release.

To her shock, he slipped his thumb into her asshole; never in a million years did Grace think Alastor would be willing to take the old dirt road in any capacity.

Moreover, never in a million years did she imagine she’d like it.

She loved it.

Grace gasped loudly and pressed back against him. With a hard thrust and his thumb still buried inside her, the world crumbled around them both.

He moaned her name, deep and long, squeezing her ass as his cock throbbed deliciously within her pulsing cunt.

After a few moments, he removed his thumb from her ass and leaned forward, driving his cock into her as far as it could go, peppering her back with kisses.

She squeezed her thighs together, eliciting another moan from him.

Around heaving, gasping breaths, Grace told him, “I want to wrap myself up in you.”

Alastor pressed his forehead to her shoulder. His breathing as labored as hers, he replied, “And I, you.”

As he caught his breath, Alastor withdrew and sat on the bed beside Grace.

She pushed up off the mattress with weak, trembling arms.

“You changed me, you know.” He gazed down at her with a sweet smile that spoke of untold affections.

Grace rested a hand on his knee, unsure whether she should pout or smile. “That was never my intention.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. I’m happier this way.” 

“But I l—” she choked down the rest of that statement for a number of reasons. —oved you already.

He raised a single eyebrow in question, his smile going a bit lopsided.

Grace sat up beside Alastor. It’s now or never. And she wouldn’t let it be ‘never.’ Not after she was seconds away from ‘never’ with that Angelic Steel beskad embedded in his side.

“Okay. Okay, okay. Okay. Look. Listen.” She took a long, deep inhalation that did nothing to steady her nerves or violently shaking hands. “Okay. Okay okay okay okay. Okay.”

With that still lopsided smile, Alastor chuckled. “Are you okay, Little Fawn? You're saying okay an awful lot for someone who … doesn’t sound okay. You're shaking.” He paused, then asked quietly, “Did I do something wrong again?”

“No. You did nothing wrong. You did everything right, actually. I just—I need to tell you something.” I'm gonna puke. “I’ve known this for a while now but I want you to hear it.” Oh shit I think I'm gonna faint. “It’s just … I know you won't return the sentiment and you don't have to say it back. I know you won't understand it.” Gettin’ lightheaded! “Actually, y'know what?” Oh my good god. Grace’s voice was rapidly getting higher-pitched. “You don't have you say anything at all.” 

He leaned in, both eyebrows raised.

“It's just … I need you to know … that …” Don’t barf, don’t barf! “I — I love you.”

Alastor blinked. “That's it?”

“‘That's it?’” she echoed, her voice faltering.

“That was the big to-do that's got you in such a tizzy?”

“Well … yeah!” Grace flailed, her hands smacking against the mattress on either side of her thighs.

“I knew that. I love you, too, Grace,” Alastor said with a shrug and an ease that rather sickened her.

The silence following his reply was so heavy that she thought she’d momentarily panicked herself into deafness. “Uh … what?”

He said it like he couldn’t understand what baffled her: “I love you, too.”

“But … you can't love me.”

“And why not?”

To explain the things Husker had once told her about him would be nothing short of hurtful and so Grace continued to just gape helplessly at Alastor.

He picked up her hands and held them gently. “When my mind wanders to you, I feel an unnerving tenderness. I have genuine concern for your well-being, and not just because of what you could do for me, the purpose of our now defunct contract. I trust you. I miss you when you're not around and I'm happy when we're together. I can’t even express to you how relieved I was that you stayed with me in the hospital. I wanted you near me initially because you had an inexplicable way of making me feel good … physically and emotionally. And now? I want you near me so I can do that for you, so I can make you feel good. So I can protect you. So I can worship you. And it’s not just a desire to do all that for you. It’s become a suffocating, searing, distracting, unbearable need. It’s something I can’t escape, even if I wanted to, and the longer I feel these feelings, the less I want to escape them. If this isn't love, my sweet, then what is it? Insanity?”

Grace squeaked a feeble sort of sound that wasn’t really a reply of any sort, her heart pounding hard enough to fracture her ribcage. “If …” She took a staggering breath. “If you feel about me the way I feel about you, then I can say with full confidence it's both love and insanity.”

Alastor leaned forward and gave her a brief, soft kiss. “If I'm being completely honest, most everything I do now is for you. I don’t understand why you were so surprised to hear that I love you.” He kissed her again for good measure. “I’ve told you so before.”

“Excuse me?” Grace leaned back, her eyes widening. “I would’ve remembered that! Fucking when did you tell me that?”

He seemed genuinely baffled. “When you held me after Vox stabbed me. I said, ‘Grace, I love you.’”

Oh. Shit. He really was dying! She hadn’t the heart to tell him he didn’t get all those words out before losing consciousness—although he could certainly infer that from her claim that he’d never said it.

“And I told you again in the hospital.”

“Oh, now I know you didn’t say that in the hospital,” Grace said on a chuckle.

“‘You make me so dizzy?’ Back in my day, that’s how we professed such sentiment.”

Oh. Oh, my god. And she couldn’t recall when, where, or why, but she had vague recollections of having told him something similar long before that. If her memory held true, it was no surprise that he wasn’t surprised by her confession.

Grace met his gaze, her smile growing and tears filling her eyes. “I love you!” Now that she'd admitted it, she couldn't stop saying it, as if making up for each time she'd wanted to say it but didn't. That would be so many ‘I love you’s’ considering how much the phrase had caught in her throat during her post-surgical hospital vigil, alone. 

“I love you, I love you! I love you like I've never loved any man before. I love you, defects and all.” She pulled him into a long kiss and punctuated it by, “You are so loved by me!”

Alastor wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Each morning I wake, my first thought is of how much I love you, and that I love you more than I did the day before … and each night I fall asleep believing I can’t possibly love you any more than that and yet it happens morning after morning after morning. You make me want to be a better man.” He chuckled rather wickedly. “I won’t ever be—but at least you make me want that.”

“I thought I didn’t want you to change, but then I went through a period where I did after you betrayed me. But in the end, I realize all I ever really wanted was for you to let me in.”

“I’m trying, Little Fawn, but … it’s … scary.”

“I know. You’re doing so well and I’m proud of you.”

Alastor continued to smile, just like always, but tears shimmered in his eyes. Grace wondered how many times he’d ever heard those words directed at him. Then she vowed to say them more often.

"I dislike how much this fear feels like weakness."

"No, no! A wise woman once told me, 'just because you're scared doesn't mean you're not strong.' In fact, I think being vulnerable is the greatest strength we can share."

Although he scoffed, he didn't argue it.

“Getting the opportunity to love you was worth every sin I committed," Grace whispered. "And worth every second of misery I've spent down here without you. You’re lovable, Alastor. And I love you. So, so much. To the point it hurts. To the point I’d rip my own heart out of my chest if you asked me for it.”

“And I’d give you mine to replace it.”

At that, a tear finally breached Grace’s lower lashes. 

They moved closer and closer with each whispered profession, pausing between them for a light kiss on the lips.

“I love you,” Grace whispered.

“I love you,” Alastor replied.

She requested, “Say it again.”

He obliged: “I love you.”

“Again.”

His smile widened. “I love you.”

“And again!” she said, her whole body vibrating with excitement.

Alastor squeezed her hard, pressing his lips to hers several times before he said, “Oh, I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” Grace exhaled.

“Not possible, my little fawn. That’s simply not possible.” He combed his fingertips through her hair, holding her gaze. “Do you remember what you told me out on the balcony Christmas morning? About the gift I gave you?”

Grace’s brain had long-since short-circuited due to this conversation, and so all she was able to do was shake her head slightly.

“You told me, ‘there’s nothing I can buy that means to you what this means to me.’ But you’ve given me a greater gift than some silly little teddy bear. You’re loving me unconditionally. You’re the only one to ever love me besides my mother and the only one to love me since her. That’s the best, most meaningful gift anyone could possibly give me. I love you, Grace.”

“I love you, Alastor.”

“I love you, Little Fawn.”

“I love you, Radio Demon.”

“I love you, My Sweet.”

“I love you, my Demon Overlord.”

Alastor’s smile faltered. He glanced away from her. “But … I’m not your Overlord anymore.”

“Contract or no, you were, you are—and you always will be. And for the record, you don’t need to ask for my soul or bargain for it. I’m giving you my soul freely, Alastor.” She extended her hand to him for a shake on it. “I want you to have it. Claim what’s yours.”

His smile warmed. “What’s your rush? We have all of eternity, my sweet. This is neither the time nor place for such deals to be made.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll claim you on my terms.”

She snuggled up against him with a content sigh. 

“I never even knew it was possible to feel this way about someone,” he whispered.

“And how do you feel about those feelings?”

“It feels …” Alastor exhaled heavily. “Scary and exciting and amazing all at once.”

“Yep. That’s love! Oh, holy shit that felt so good to get off my chest.” 

Resting his cheek on her crown, Alastor murmured, “You’re shockingly huggable for such a small thing.”

“And you’re shockingly huggable for such a scrawny Eldritch Horror.” She peered up at him. “… When did you realize?”

He blinked. “Realize what?”

“That you love me?”

Alastor remained silent, his face going very red. 

So there is an answer to this. One he knows, and that embarrasses him. 

Just when Grace had given up on him responding to it, Alastor said, “New Years’ Eve.”

Her mouth fell open wordlessly.

“I realized what all those feelings I had for you meant, and it was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“Oh—oh my god. That's why you hyperventilated.”

He nodded, then turned the question on her: “You?”

Grace shrugged. “I don't have an exact moment but … it’s been a while now. A long while.”

“Why not tell me?”

“Are you even kidding me? I was afraid of how you'd react!” She laughed despite herself. “I was legit terrified of you at first!”

His smile turned deliciously devious. “I remember. That was fun.”

After a few moments, she asked, “Alastor? Why didn’t you rip my lingerie?”

His eyebrows jumped up in surprise. “It was a gift from Kofax!”

Oh, sure, he had no qualms in destroying a gift from Charlie—although in retrospect, Grace didn’t think he knew how she’d come into possession of that dress.

“I may be a serial killer,” Alastor added with a smirk, “but I’m hardly inconsiderate.”

Dots from all three of them bounced at the same time.

Alastor’s hand appeared from behind the phone’s screen and clutched it, pulling it gently from her grip. “Ignore them,” he said, sliding the phone beneath Grace’s pillow.

“Aw, you’re not jealous, are you?” Grace asked with a big grin.

He winked at her. “Only wildly.”

“Oh. Well, see. That’s my brand of crazy. You’ve already got your own brand of crazy and I can’t have you stealing mine.” She showered his face with kisses. His forehead beneath that fluff of hair. His darling little pointed, upturned nose. His eyelids. His cheeks and chin.

“I need you,” Alastor exhaled. “I need you like the very air I breathe. You’ve become an addiction from which I don’t care to be rehabilitated. I never imagined I needed another soul in my afterlife … and now I can’t imagine my afterlife without you in it.” He glanced away, his perpetual smile going somber. “Am I going to be enough for you?”

With a frown, Grace replied, “What do you mean?”

“Your husband wasn’t enough to keep you from seeking other lovers. What makes me different from him? Especially considering the whole …” The words came out awkwardly, as if they were a foreign language to him. “… asexuality thing.”

“Everything! Literally every possible thing makes you different from him!” Despite herself—the implications of what Alastor was asking and why he asked it—and the shocking vulnerability of the question itself—Grace laughed.

Alastor’s eyebrows crimped together in light of her laughter.

“Yes, it’s true, I’d love nothing more than for you to be sexually attracted to me. I won’t lie and say that I understand that, because I don’t and I don’t think I can understand how that part of your brain works.” Grace sighed quietly. “But never in a million years do I want you feeling insecure about me. Now that I’ve met you, now that I know you, now that I’ve had you … there are no others. I want no others. And there can never be any other. You give me everything I never knew I wanted, the things I spent my lifetime searching for but could never find. You completely and utterly fulfill my every desire.”

Vox had been right about Alastor’s feelings toward her—whether he somehow knew it or it was just a lucky assumption.

“Well, then.” Alastor took her in his arms and then the world tilted around her. Positioned now atop her and blotting out the light until he was all she could see, he asked, “What do you want most from me, my sweet?”

Knowing now in no uncertain terms that he loved her, his manhandling and dominance during sex would be especially delicious.

“Destroy me, Radio Demon,” said Grace, her voice going husky. “Leave me in ruins.”

His narrowed eyes lighting up at the invitation and his smiling widening, Alastor pinned her arms above her head and growled, “Ask. Nicely. Grace.”

With a wicked grin, Grace challenged his demand. “No.”

Fin.

For real this time.

... maybe.

My deer friends, thank you again for making this journey with me!