Chapter Text
“Batter,” the Player spoke up, turning to look over their head to address the Batter, who was poring over the clues they had scribbled down on paper to piece together. Having played the game through once already, the Player knew exactly what numbers to use to get to which floors, but they still went through all the puzzles in order to keep up the guise that it was their first time. They came all this way for a reason, after all, and a cute little replay wasn’t really it.
Their Batter, ever so obedient, and now a lot calmer than before, looked up to attention. “Yes?” he asked.
“Before we get to the Director’s Office, I… I have to get to the roof for a bit. Get some fresh air, talk to the Judge for a bit.”
“I’ll go with you. We’ll look these over there.”
“N-no, it’s fine,” they shook their head, “This one’s… a bit… personal.”
They felt bad, lying to their trusting Batter like this, but bypassing one of three gates back home was something they had to do in order to get this done. Well, personal reasons weren’t that much of a total lie, anyway.
The Batter blinked at his Player, and an embarrassed flush spread across his cheeks. “… Right.” He nodded, stepping back to allow the Player to get into the elevator. “I’ll come right up there when I get this code down, alright?”
Nodding weakly, the Player smiled at him for a bit, and with a small wave to their Batter, closed the doors of the elevator, before punching in the floor they had really wanted to get to: 6-8-1-4-5-2.
Swallowing, the Player stood back as the elevator lurched to life, and started moving up.
The Player had intended, at first, just to get to the area where they were pulled into the game at first, but then a sudden realisation stopped them as they passed the gate out back home—back in The Room, they had another chance to talk to the Guardians, and the Player remembered how shocked they were to find that Dedan wasn’t as big a jerk as he actually was.
A little flush crossed their cheeks in embarrassment, as they shook their head to clear it. It was rather embarrassing, really, the thought of going through the area again just to apologise to the man, but their actions (theirs and the Batter’s, anyway,) seemed ridiculously brutal for some guy who just cracked under the pressure of running a Zone by himself.
With that thought, the Player steeled their resolve as the elevator stopped. Swallowing cautiously, they stepped out of it and into the corridor. They passed the save box, and headed up to Dedan’s office door.
Grinning slightly, they remembered how adamant the Batter was at keeping them out of trouble, so much as keeping them outside Dedan’s office, but now that the Batter wasn’t there, it was only just the Player and the door.
Taking a deep breath, the Player knocked twice, and entered the door, to see Dedan standing at his desk, a glare pointed right at the door.
“… Hi,” the Player meekly greeted, closing the door behind them, and Dedan’s glare changed to that one of confusion.
“… You’re not the Batter. Who are you?” he demanded immediately after recovering from his confusion, pointing a sharp-nailed finger at them threateningly, and the Player immediately raised their hands defensively.
“Hey, let’s just take this calmly, buddy,” they spoke up, smiling weakly, and suspiciously, Dedan stared them down, but eventually lowered his hand. “… Okay. I’m the Player.” They explained, “I, uh. I control the Batter’s actions.”
Dedan’s anger flared up again.
“So you’re that punk’s sidekick!” he roared, and the Player wildly shook their head.
“N-not really!” they replied, “Uh, if anything, he’s my sidekick, since, uh, I do control him…”
“So I’ve got to kill you!”
“H-hey, wait! That’s not fair! I’m not armed!” the Player defended, “And, um, well, there was something I wanted to tell you.”
Dedan calmed down slightly, more confused now than angry. “What’re you getting at?”
“Well, later, after this, we’re going to defeat you—hey, calm down and listen to me!” they yelled, when Dedan, enraged, got ready to launch himself at the Player, “And, well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“… You’re sorry?”
“I… I finished this game, I know what happens in the end,”
“That Batter is a monster.”
“Yes, I know,” the Player replied, “And I sided with him anyway,” at this, Dedan’s eyes widened in disbelief, but the Player continued, “But that’s not important right now. What is, is that I want to tell you that I’m sorry for… for helping killing you, because I didn’t know that you were such a nice guy before, and… well…” they fell silent, embarrassed.
“… You’re apologetic? That’s it? A ‘sorry’?”
The Player blinked. “… Yes?” they ventured, but Dedan crossed his arms, a lecherous grin spreading across his face, and realisation dawned on the Player’s. “… Oh, it’s not enough.”
Dedan nodded.
“… Well…” they frowned, thinking about it for a moment, but then a small blush crossed their face. “… I’m willing to do anything as a sorry, really.”
“Anything?”
The Player nodded, and suddenly they realised Dedan was standing right up close to them, his large form dwarfing theirs easily.
“Well, then, why don’t you show me how sorry you are?” Dedan asked, “With some of this?”
He reached down and gave the Player’s arse an appreciative squeeze, and an involuntary squeak escaped the Player’s lips.
“You make sweet noises, too. So why don’t you? You’re a much better specimen than all those Elsens, anyway.”
The Player looked up at him, and slowly nodded. “… Alright.” They replied in a half-whisper, a hesitant quiver in their voice, as slowly they got on their knees in front of Dedan.
“Start with my shoes, little bitch,” he smirked, walking to his desk and heavily sitting down on his chair. “And crawl here.”
The Player did as they were told, crawling on hands and knees towards their temporary master, reaching the Guardian’s feet quickly. Before they could move, though, Dedan raised his boot to their chin and lifted it, forcing them to look up at him.
“And look at me, and me only. Got it?”
Just like the Batter.
Silently, they nodded, and gently, they took the boot holding their chin up, and with their eyes still locked on Dedan’s, they tentatively gave the man’s boot a lick.
“Get to it, you little shit. I haven’t got all day.”
The Player shivered slightly, before getting to work, lavishing attention on the man’s boot with their tongue until it was shining with their spit, before turning their attention to the other boot, licking it to a shine, arse in the air.
At this, Dedan smirked, reaching over to give it a grope, and the Player let out a small moan against the leather of the Guardian’s boots.
“Getting off on boot-licking, bitch? You goddamn pervert.”
“I’m sorry, you’re just so amazing,” the Player replied on reflex, slowly moving up Dedan’s legs, lovingly caressing them with their hands as they pulled themselves up off the floor and into his lap, their hands wandering all over Dedan’s skin underneath his open coat. “So well-built, like a statue.”
“Keep talking.”
Smiling lightly, they began to softly pepper kisses all over Dedan’s exposed torso (only that; their new master hadn’t told them to take anything off, after all), uttering loving words to each inch their lips touched like a reverent player, as their hands smoothed over his clothes with a touch of a lover’s.
“Good, good.” Dedan nodded, smoothing his hand down the Player’s back and into their pants, reaching for their entrance and poking it with his long fingernail.
They let out a small whimper at the intrusion, burying their face into Dedan’s shoulder, but the Guardian growled at them, shrugging them off and letting them fall to their knees on the floor between his legs, his hand sliding out of their pants. “Don’t you wimp out on me, you little shit.” He growled. “Suck me off.”
Nodding, the Player sat up (ignoring the pain in their knees, where they landed rather heavily) and hastily unbuckled Dedan’s belt with shaky hands, and suddenly the Guardian’s cock sprang out from its bindings, hitting the Player’s cheek lightly, a light gasp of surprise escaping from their lips.
“It’s… big,” they breathed, wide-eyed at the large, hard throbbing cock in front of their face, and gently they ran their hands over the ridges on the Guardian’s cock, silently marvelling at its size and shape.
“I’m waiting,” Dedan growled, and they nodded quickly, before licking a long stripe up his cock, from root to tip. “Good,” he nodded, canting his hips forward to press his cock further against the Player’s face, successfully pushing it in their mouth. Messily, they sucked the large appendage as best as they could—it was far too big to fit in their mouth, and precum was leaking from its head, spilling out the corner of their lips, mixing with their drool that trickled down to their chin.
“You look like a fucking whore,” he commented, thrusting shallowly and grinning in gratification at the choking noise the Player made, grabbing a fistful of their hair to hold their head in place as he thrust a bit more, choking the Player as they sucked him off as best as they could. “Well, this isn’t nearly sorry enough. Let’s see how sorry your ass is.”
He smeared some saliva mixed with precum on his fingers, before reaching to behind the Player, slipping his hand in again into their pants and, without warning, roughly fingering their hole with his barely-lubricated fingers.
Their moans and gasps of pain and pleasure was muffled around his cock, but the vibrations were felt enough and they felt good. Groaning in pleasure, Dedan grinned down at the Player, still looking up at him (obedient little bitch, he thought, pleased, not like that goddamned Batter or those shit Elsens) as they sucked him off, tears running down their cheeks, also mixing in with the precum-spit mix.
When he deemed the Player ready (and by ready, he meant himself, and not the Player’s entrance) he pulled his fingers out not-too-carefully and pulled them off brusquely off his cock.
“I think you’re done worshipping that,” he told them, smirking, “Let your ass worship it this time.”
“Y-yes, please,” the Player choked out, and Dedan smirked.
“Good Player,” he growled, pulling them up by their hair and roughly bending them over his desk. “Hold onto anything or touch yourself and I’ll tear you apart.”
“Yes, Dedan.” The Player replied, looking at him over their shoulder. “Whatever you wish. I’m sorry.”
“Good.” He smirked, before sheathing himself into the tight entrance. He let out a hiss of pleasure—God, this Player was tight. Without waiting for the Player to adjust, he began to thrust, deep, fast and unforgiving, earning him moans, gasps and garbled cries of his name, at first, and when he shifted angle and thrust even deeper, the Player was screaming out his name.
“De—Ded—Ah!—Oh, Dedan!”
”That’s right, you little shit,” the Guardian growled, “Scream like a whore for me.”
And much to his pleasure, the Player did, their walls tightening around him as they suddenly climaxed, their orgasm ripping through their body in a violent shudder. The pressure on his cock proved too much, and Dedan came into their hole, white semen trickling out of their entrance as he pulled out unceremoniously. He moved back, and let the Player drop to the floor, panting, their knees wobbling and still shaking from the high of orgasm.
“You came without touching yourself. Goddamn slut.”
“I’m sorry,” the Player repeated in between pants. “C-can you forgive me now?”
Dedan smirked, leaning into the Player’s face.
“No.”
Their eyes widened in shock and horror, as Dedan grabbed their wrists tight enough to bruise, and pulled them up and onto his table again, spreading their legs with his body, his still-erect cock pressing incessantly at their entrance.
“D-Dedan,” they gasped, but he paid no attention to them as he began to thrust again, strength unwavering, and still as violent as always.
Their moans turned ragged and grew into hoarse screams, and it sounded beautiful.
“Listen here, you dipshit,” he growled, looking right into the Player’s panicked eyes. “I don’t forgive you. Bastards who think they can march in here and think just pulling shit like this can get away with it piss me off so much.” He snickered. “You’re just like your precious Batter.”
“Ba-Batter!” the Player screamed, and Dedan laughed in their face, shaking his head.
“Oh, no, you left your Batter upstairs, didn’t you? Confident enough to leave him behind?”
The doors slammed open, and Dedan’s eyes widened upon seeing a familiar silhouette in the doorway.
“Let go of my Player this instant or I will purify you without mercy.”
Clicking his tongue, Dedan pulled out of the Player and glared down at them.
“Enjoy shame, whore.” He spat at them, before teleporting away.
The Player did, at least, get to hear the Batter punching the wall so hard it cracked and chipped, swearing loudly in anger before rushing to their side, going on about leaving him alone and how stupid rushing forward was and how he had warned them about looking at only him because of how jealous he was of everything they looked at, as they fell unconscious.