#if you're think I made this up you are very sorely mistaken

[hoperays-song]

Johnny Brainrot: Tea

In England, it’s customary to always offer tea to guests. Like expected or not.

 Meaning if anyone went over to the garage, they would immediately be offered a cup of tea by either Marcus, Johnny, or even Stan or Barry (it’s implied they don’t live there but they are family so). Imagine every time their parole officer comes to check on the garage, they’re immediately met with a chorus of “Would you like a cup of tea?” the second they step inside.

And Johnny probably would do this in Redshore with his hotel room as well. Like Meena swings by after practice to check in, and she’s immediately being asked if she wants a cup of tea as Johnny scrambles around to find a tea kettle.

Anytime any of the troupe points out he doesn’t have to do that, Johnny just looks at them completely deadpan and goes “My dad might be a bloody bank robber, but he did raise me to have decent manners”.  No one can argue with him after that.

[rosenclaws]

Don't hide from me || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You get hurt on a mission and hide it from Logan. Safe to say he is not happy with you.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, talk of violence, blood, and injury

wc: 3k

a/n: Hi guys, tw for pet death but we had to put my childhood dog to sleep today. He was 16 and he had a good life but it's rough. Writing has always helped me so I just sat down and wrote today. I'm always a sucker for this kind of trope and I also have trouble asking for help so this was born. Idk if I like the ending but I always struggle with those so oopsie

This was not how you imagined your first mission to go. You had assumed it would be easy, boring in fact. It was supposed to be boring. Maybe a little fighting here or there but nothing serious.

Well you were sorely mistaken. Your hand puts pressure on your side as you lean against a tree. The rough bark digging into the cuts on your suit. You wince as you look down to see a massive gash right in your stomach.

"Fuck." Your breath is labored as you slowly slide down the tree. You don't heal like some of the other mutants can. In fact your powers were relatively tame compared to others but you were still an asset to the team.

You had been training for months and months. Learning to control your sparks into blasts of energy and manipulate the electricity around you. You had never been more excited to receive your suit. Handed to you by Logan himself after your final training day.

The proud look on his face made your whole body fill with butterflies. Logan had been your biggest help. He was a very distracting teacher though due to the fact that he's your boyfriend too but if anything that made him push you harder.

"Come on sweetheart, you need to do better than that." He says with a smirk. He's barely broken a sweat while you've been giving it a hundred and ten percent.

"Fuck off." You huff as you lay down on the mat. Body exhausted from the hours of training.

"You're getting better. Just need to keep working." He steps over you, bending down and holding out his hand.

"One more time and we're done." He helps you up and kisses your forehead. Walking back to his spot he raises his arms and braces himself.

"Hit me." Taking a deep breath you channel all your power to your fingertips. Feeling the jolts of power start to form. With all your strength you fire right at Logan. To your surprise it hits him square in the chest and sends him flying into the wall.

"Logan!" You run over to him but he's already up by the time you make it. A big smile on his face as he wraps his arms around you. A burst of pride in your chest as he kisses you sweetly.

"I knew you could do it."

It made it even sweeter when you were finally deemed ready to join them. You were ready. You wanted to prove to all of them that you could do it but most of all you wanted to show Logan.

Show him that all his extra training helped and that you were strong and you could do this on your own. He had always shown a slight worry about you joining the team. He says it's because he's worried and protective but a small part of your brain tells you it's because he thinks you can't do it. That you're not ready.

So this. Well it almost felt embarrassing. The mission was nothing new to the rest of the team but to you it was overwhelming. Fighting with everything you had and sometimes it felt like it wasn’t enough. You took out soldier after soldier but they kept coming. But you were fine. You never asked for backup. Convincing yourself that you could do this. Thinking back to all your long days in the simulation and wiping away any doubt that lingered in your head.

Logan had left your side early on much to his reluctance so you were on your own. You were too focused on the guy in front of you that you didn't notice the man sneaking behind you. You cried out in pain as he dug his knife into your side.

Without thinking you blast him far away, taking out the guy in front of you too. Pure adrenaline courses through you as you run to safety. Now you're here, the sounds of fighting still rage on behind you. Blood is seeping onto your hand at a faster rate than normal.

"Okay. Okay. Okay okay." Sorry Professor but you'll fix your suit later. Your sleeve was already torn so you tear the rest as much of it as you can off. Turning it into one long strip of fabric. You unzip the top of your suit to get to the wound. They briefly taught you how to patch up injuries more akin to scratches not stab wounds. You tie the fabric tightly around your waist. You groan as the pressure shoots a sharp pain through your body. The sounds of fighting were dying down.

You know you should tell someone but the last thing you wanted was to be taken off the team after your first mission. You wanted to make them proud. You loved being on the team.

The injury isn't that bad, if you could just make it back to the mansion you would be fine. Patch it up with the right material and then sleep it off. Thank god you and Logan didn't share a room. Fuck. Logan. He was going to kill you but what he didn't know won't hurt him.

Just this once.

Zipping up your suit again you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Just make it back to the mansion. You walk as best you can back to the jet. Your limping, favoring your non injured side and it's incredibly obvious. Still you put a smile on your face. The team clocks your ripped sleeve immediately. Logan scowls as you get closer making you shiver. Or maybe that was from the blood loss.

"So how was that for your first mission?" Scott beams as he walks over to you. He slaps his hand onto your shoulder and you wince.

"Good. Is it always like this?" He notices something's off but doesn't say anything. Instead he keeps his hand on your shoulder as he guides you back to the jet.

"You alright Sparks? What happened to your suit." He asks when you get closer.

"Long story, some guy ripped it and when I ran to the forest it got caught and just. tore away." You lie right through your teeth.

"Don't worry we'll fix it when we get back." Ororo smiles and you thank god they bought it. Well almost everyone bought it.

As you head up the ramp you feel a hand on your side. Your whole body tenses as pain shoots through your side. You bite your lip hard to keep yourself from screaming. You recognize the hand as Logan's as his wide chest bumps against your back.

"You alright sweetheart?" He asks, a skeptical look on his face as you wave his hand off.

"Yeah, just really tired." You sigh as you sit in a chair.

Some relief spreads through your body as you subtly press the arm of the chair into your side. Putting more pressure as you feel the blood soak through your makeshift bandage. He narrows his eyes as he inspects you like an animal. Your heart picks up as he places both hands on either arm rest, caging you in as he leans close.

"What are you doing?" You shrink under his intense look. He sniffs and a low growl emits from his throat.

"I smell blood. Somethings wrong." Fuck. He's caught you. The rest of the team starts to file back in.

"Yeah there's blood on everyone's suit, there's blood on you." You mumble as an excuse.

"Down boy, we're taking off so take a seat." Scott says. Logan stays put for just a moment longer before he finally backs off, flipping Scott the middle claw as he takes the seat behind you.

You can feel his eyes burning in the back of your head the whole flight home. You were sweating, body on fire as you focused on your breathing. The pain was getting worse and you wanted to cry for help. But you were determined to prove yourself here.

Your brain wasn't exactly working right either. Too focused on not throwing up to think logically. Finally the jet lands. You're so close. Just a little longer. Logan moves to go right back to your side but gets pulled away. You can vaguely hear him telling someone to fuck off as you stumble out of the jet.

You feel like a zombie as you walk back to your room. Stomach growing sick as you struggle to stay awake. Sweat pours down your face, body screaming for help as you barely make it to your room. Your vision goes in and out. The darkness calling to you as you swing open your door. That sounds nice, you can just close your eyes and sleep. Yeah. Then you can fix yourself up. Your vision goes black. The last thing you remember is someone yelling your name.

-

The first thing you notice when you come back to consciousness is how much your body hurts. The second thing was the hand that was holding yours tightly. Clearly you weren't in your room anymore. This bed is too uncomfortable and it smells too much like antiseptic.

The lab. You were in a hospital bed in the lab which means that someone found you which can only mean that Logan knew and you were in so much trouble. Maybe if you keep your eyes closed you can just go back to sleep. The urge to avoid the consequences of your actions was strong but you knew you couldn't. You lied and now you have to deal with it.

Surprisingly it's dim when you open your eyes. The ugly florescent lighting was off in favor of a few candles and a soft lamp. The hand holding yours twitched, holding you tighter. Looking to your side you see Logan laying his head on the bed. Guilt seeps into your soul when you see him there.

"Glad to see you awake." A soft voice says from the door.

"Jean." You sheepishly say. She flicks on the lights and you squint your eyes at the bright light.

"You're lucky that Logan found you when he did." Her voice is gentle but there's anger hidden behind it.

"I'm sorry. I thought." You sigh and look at Logan who was still sleeping.

"I thought I could handle it. I just wanted to be one of you guys." "You already were one of us, but we're just glad you're okay." She checks your vitals once more in silence.

"Am I in trouble?" You ask nervously.

"Yes." Another voice makes your heart jump, the monitor picking it up with a massive spike.

"Logan honey I-" He holds up his hand and silently asks Jean to leave. She gives you one last smile before leaving the two of you alone.

"Don't. Don't you dare." You shrink into the bed as speaks.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I-"

"Hiding a fucking stab wound? For what? Exactly what did you think would happen here!" He raises his voice and you look down in shame.

"You are benched. Permanently." He growls, standing up and storming towards the door.

"What! Logan you can't do that."

"Fuck yes I can. Do you understand how stupid it was for you to hide an injury like that? How irresponsible you were!"

"I thought I could handle it!" The machines near you started to go haywire as you yelled back.

"I thought you were dead!" You go silent as the anger fades, he clenches his fists tightly.

"I smelled the blood and I knew something was wrong. The whole time I knew it. There was a trail of blood to your room and I ran and ran and when I finally got there." He pauses. Not even wanting to say the next thought.

"I'm sorry." You whisper.

You reach out for him but he just stares at you. A painful expression on his face as his eyes zero in on the prominent scar on your side. He shakes his head, turning away and walking out the door.

"Logan please." You beg for him to come back but he doesn't.

The lab is silent and lonely. Jean comes back to check on you, comforting you as you silently cry. All you want is for Logan to come back but he never did.

At least not while you were awake. In the mornings there were traces of Logan. His jacket is left on your bed the one you always steal to cuddle with. Snacks are waiting by your table. Little things to show you had still been there. Just not when you were awake.

It was only a couple days later that you were finally discharged. The Professor had called you to his office, letting you know that you were benched until you had fully recovered and you nodded in understanding. You can feel the stares of the rest of the mansion on you as you walk back to your room.

You've apologized over and over to the team and they welcomed you back with open arms. Begging you to never scare them like that again. Your mind wanders and your feet seem to think on their own as you find yourself in front of Logan's door.

All you want is for him to hold you and to tell you it's okay. Before you can knock on the door it swings open. There he stands in all his glory. He stares at you for a moment before pulling you into a hug. It takes you by surprise but you hug him back tighter. You wince as he pushes a little too hard on your side and he lets go instantly. You don't want to let go, he's been gone for days and you need him.

"I'm here to apologize." You say.

"I'm sorry for not saying anything. I was afraid that you would think I'm weak." It hurts to admit but he needs to know the truth. Asking for help has never been your strong suit.

"That I wasn't strong enough and all I wanted was to prove to you that I could do it. I wanted you to be proud of me." You wait for any response but all he does is look at you. Silently he guides you to his bed. Wrapping a blanket around your shoulders that smells like him.

"When I found you, you weren't moving. There was so much blood. You were barely breathing." He shivers at the memory.

He doesn't think he'll ever get the smell of your blood and the sight of you sprawled out on the ground out of his mind. It's burned there. Every time he closes his eyes he sees it. He ran through the mansion. Begging for help with you in his arms.

They kicked him out once he brought you to the lab. He was close to breaking down the damn doors. He had super strength and a raging healing factor but he'd never felt so powerless before. When they finally let him back in he rushed to the bed. He never left your side. Watching and waiting for you to wake up. Begging you to wake up.

Was this his fault? If he had been by your side would he have been able to help? Or is this just the price of this life. To be a mutant and having to fight just to live. Losing you was not an option but it was becoming a reality he had to accept was possible.

"I'm always proud of you. Doesn't matter what you do. I'm always proud." You tug on his tank top and pull him close.

Kissing him with a soft passion, a desire, an apology. He carefully lowers you down to the bed. He lays you on your side as he deepens the kiss, hand ghosting over the scar as he tangles his limbs with yours.

"I'm so sorry Logan." You bury your head in his chest.

It feels so good to be by his side again. He tilts your head up to look at him. He grows serious as he brushes your cheek gently. You're alive but there's still a horrible worry inside of him. Though he doesn't think that will ever go away. Not as long as he loves you and he's never going to stop doing that.

"Don't ever do something like this again. I'm serious sweetheart, I can't lose you."

"You won't." You can't promise him that. Not at all. Bad things happen to those he loves but he'll be damned if he lets anything happen to you. You yawn and cuddle closer to his side.

"How can I still be so tired after sleeping for so long?"

"You really hurt yourself sweetheart," He glances at your side. Knowing that under the blanket was a scar that would never fade. A constant reminder of his own failure to protect you.

"I'm sorry for leaving," He knows it was a dick move to leave has he had done but he couldn't take it. He was so angry. So afraid.

"Just don't leave me again." You say sleepily. His arms wrap around you, his hand rubbing your back soothingly until you fall asleep. He watches you for a while. Not tired himself but keeping his promise of staying with you.

"I was so scared," He admits to no one but himself.

He rests his chin on your head. The sound of your heartbeat echoes in his ears. The sweet reminder that you're okay. He closes his eyes as the nightmares in his mind return. Seeing your lifeless body. The blood. All of it. He tries to shake them away but the thoughts still linger.

"Please, don't leave me. I love you too much to let you go." He whispers his plea to himself, to you, to whoever is listening.

He kisses the top of your head and you smile in your sleep. The comfort of Logan reaching your dreams. That's good enough for him, as long as you're okay. That's all he needs.

[romaritimeharbor]

FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.

— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.

— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).

— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶

kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.

she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.

(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)

KAFKA

My coat got stained again :(

Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?

[ 1:22 PM ]

KAFKA

I saw a new movie today.

It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.

Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?

Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...

That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.

Sleep well, darling.

[ 11:34 PM ]

she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.

and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.

she does chide them, however.

"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."

if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.

she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.

however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.

they know kafka would not use it to harm them.

kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.

and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.

blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.

some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.

this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.

he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.

the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.

one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.

out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.

(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)

blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.

should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"

(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)

unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.

it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.

something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.

death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.

silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.

she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.

however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!

she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.

what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????

unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.

...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].

she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.

(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)

silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.

overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3

please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!

[enviedear]

what do you think billy would be like when hes jealous?

jealous!billy bonney

request

billy bonney tried very hard to do good. he liked to think he did more good than he did bad. especially when it comes to you. you’re as sweet on him as he is you. you make him feel like he must've done something worthwhile, something that makes him deserving of you.

but the goodness inside of him is gone as he stares at the young man with his hand at your hip. you’re billy’s girl, everyone knows. you’re tied intrinsically to the infamous gunslinger. billy thinks his head may explode when the man leans down to whisper in your ear. 

that action shattered his remaining resolve entirely, and he’s quick to saunter to you. you feel his presence before you actually get eyes on him, and the air seems to still.

you watch as he sizes up the man next to you, a banker from a few towns over, and you notice the slightest flush to his pretty face. 

the banker either doesn’t see billy or ignores him, pulling you closer to continue with his sentence. he’s a nice enough man, you think, though he speaks in great detail of his salary and expensive shoes. 

“excuse me.” billy’s voice is tight, strained, abnormal. 

the man perks his head up, dark eyes meeting billy’s blues, “can i help you, son?”

you bite your lip in anticipation, knowing billy won’t like the ‘endearment’ given to him. to your surprise however, billy gives a grin before shaking his head.

“no, sorry,” he pauses to interlock his hand with yours, tugging you away from the banker and into his arms, “how ‘bout i get you home, darlin'?”

you hum at his words, suddenly lost in his newfound possessiveness.

the banker barks a laugh, “girl ain’t got no ring, son. i say she’s fine right here,” he steps closer to you, fingers lifting your chin to peer up at him, “come on, pretty thing like you can stay out long as she likes. don’t let the boy ruin your fun.”

billy’s ghost of a grin morphs, falling into a barely contained anger. you note the way he juts his hip out, making the gun in his holster more evident, “you’re not from here, are you?”

his question confuses you, but as the banker’s eyebrows furrow, billy continues, “cause, if y’were, you’d know that this is my girl.”

the tension grows palpable as billy's voice carries through the quiet bar with a dangerous edge. his words hang heavy in warning, making it clear that he's not going to tolerate any incivility towards you.

there's a mixture of fear and pride in your head at his possessiveness, knowing he'd sooner hang than let you be talked down to.

the banker, taken aback by your cowboy's boldness, drops tour chin and hesitates for a moment before mustering up the courage to respond, "listen here, kid," he speaks, his voice laced with arrogance, "i don't care who you think you are. this is a free country, and i can talk to whoever i please."

billy's eyes narrow, his hand inching toward his holster even further, "i reckon you don't understand the situation," he retorts, his voice low and dangerous as his hand brushes against his gun, "i suggest you take a good look 'round— see the looks on their faces when i touch my gun? this town knows who i am, and they damn well know that she's mine too."

you can feel the pressure escalating, the atmosphere crackling with an impending clash. the onlookers and drunkards watch with bated breath, unsure of what's to unfold next. you feel a small bit of their unease, but deep down, you know that billy won't shoot over something so small.

that doesn't mean he won't scare him off though.

with a swift movement, billy steps forward, his body positioned protectively in front of you. the banker's conviction wavers, his bravado fading as he realizes billy means business. he takes a step back, his eyes darting around, searching for the exit.

"you've made a grave mistake, sir," billy says, his voice somehow colder than before, "if you think for one second that you can talk t'her like that and get away with it, you're sorely mistaken."

the banker stammers, his confidence completely shattered. "i… i didn't mean no harm," he stutters, voice higher in pitch, "i apologize if i offended anyone."

billy's gaze remains fixed on the banker, his eyes burning with intensity, "you'd do best to remember your place. next time sorry won't cut it."

you intervene, opting to diffuse the tension and get the both of you out of there, "alright, that's enough," you declare, voice authoritative but mild.

reluctantly, the banker nods, eyes set on billy's before huffing. he takes a glace at you, his expression filled with shame, before turning and walking away.

as the bar livens up again, billy's grip on you relaxes slightly. he looks at you with a mixture of concern and resolution, "m'sorry if i scared you," he says softly, his voice filled with a fierce protectiveness, "i won't let anyone disrespect you, darlin'. i'll always be there to defend you."

you meet his gaze, feeling a surge of warmth and gratitude. in that moment, you know that with him by your side, you'll always be safe and cherished.

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 3/4

Noah Sebastian x F!Reader Series

Word Count: 8.9k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (P in V obviously), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, very slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Non-proofread smut. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) It's a bit of a long one, folks! Consider it a thank you for being so patient while I've worked through my writer's block. ( 2 ) Don't look too deep into the lore I've created because there's probably a lot that doesn't make sense. But if you are curious, then feel free to ask me any questions! ( 3 ) I'm but a writer that thrives off positive feedback (or even constructive criticism), so don't be shy when it comes to interacting with the post, or even me.

Happy reading! xoxo

“That soul is not meant for this land, my lord.”

Silence was given as a response. 

“She is not destined to be here, and you know what will hap-”

“Yes, I am well aware of the consequences to my actions.” Noah heavily exhaled, though he appeared uninterested in the conversation. 

Sitting atop his throne, black and sleek, one hand gripped the arm rest while the other was bent and lifted to his face. He examined his nails, further showing his boredom. 

“Please forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn, my lord, but…the Light Ones are not happy. It has been nine times now and each plays out just like the last.”

A growl was emitted from him, dark eyes flickering to the creature who stood below. “I do not need you reciting my failures to me, demon.”

Noah couldn't bear to think of how you had been ripped from him countless times now. Pried from his hands. Stolen away. You had spent centuries together, longer than any human could dream of living - if one could call you alive - but he knew an infinite amount of centuries more would never be enough. He needed forever. 

“If the Light Ones think I'm going to give up just because they look down upon my doings, then they are sorely mistaken. Maybe they aren't as all knowing as they like to remind us of every chance they receive.” He spat with disdain. 

The demon clamped their mouth shut in fear that they may further anger the embodiment of darkness sitting before them. This is how they remained for a long moment, neither speaking, but the demon holding many questions on their pointed tongue. 

“‘My lord…” they cautiously began after a moment. “Might I ask…what is it about this girl that you're so drawn to? You encounter humans everyday, thousands of them, but none have made you so…”

“Weak?” Noah finished the demon’s sentence for them, his eyebrows quirked. 

The demon immediately fell to their knees, their jagged forehead pressing to the marble floor as if to already begin begging for forgiveness. 

“No! I would never say as such, my lord!” 

Noah shook his head as his focus returned to his nails, just as the ruby encrusted dagger appeared within his grasp out of thin air. 

“There's no need to grovel,” he exclaimed while turning the dagger, inspecting every inch of the blade. “I have become weak when it comes to her…but I don't have an answer for you as to why.”  

It was still a mystery even to him. 

“Does Death itself not deserve the chance to love and to be loved in return, though?” 

× × ×

“Legend says it's cursed.” 

You snorted a laugh as you looked up at the friendly face across the counter, though his expression was as serious as ever, causing your smile to falter slightly. 

“Cursed?” Might as well indulge him a bit if he was going to get all mega serious on you now. 

Nicholas was your go-to guy when it came to purchasing oddities and strange artifacts. He was good at tracking down the specific items you'd ask for but he also had a knack for snagging things he thought you'd find interesting. 

Your eyes dropped to the dagger as you leaned into the glass countertop. There was a twitch in your fingers to reach out and touch the item, to feel the cool metal against your fingertips, though you knew better. Nick was typically pretty light hearted and you two could share a laugh, but you knew when to stay within your lane when it came to his business. Don't touch it until he offers it to you. 

“From what I could find online, it's ancient, so old that no one can really say for sure how long it's been around. And you know how it goes with old things - always a curse or some shit attached to them.” 

Nodding in agreement to his words, your eyes paused upon the faintly noticeable sigil that remained etched into the dagger’s blade. The sigil is why you wanted the item, what you had asked Nick to search for in particular. 

“It's probably bullshit,” he continued, “but it was something about going to the flames if you're on the end of the blade.”

“The website was in some foreign language and the guy I bought it from barely spoke English so I can't give you an accurate translation yet. Who even knows if it's legit.” 

The bell above the door dinging briefly overtook Nicholas' attention. He held a finger up to you to silently tell you to ‘hold on’, then he stepped around the counter to greet his new patrons. 

“It's legit,” you softly spoke to yourself as you gazed upon the dagger again. There was something drawing you to it; a warmth, a knowing. Your eyes focused in on the cloudy rubies - you knew they'd shine again with a thorough cleaning - and they pulled you closer and closer, your sights now level with the item. Had there been a flicker within the largest stone? Couldn't be. Your eyes were clearly playing tricks on you now. 

As Nick returned, you straightened your posture and smiled. “I'll take it.” 

“What?” Nicholas opened his mouth to speak but then only breathed out, his head tilting slightly to the side. 

“You know I have to charge you as if it's real, right? I mean, I haven't been able to fully inspect it myself or do anymore research, so I feel kinda like an asshole doing th-”

“Nick, it's fine.” You laughed while retrieving your wallet from your bag, fingers digging into the slot that held your credit card. “It's a chance I'm willing to take.” 

“Alright…it's your money.” 

A few minutes later and your new purchase was packaged and ready to go. Nick approached you with an outstretched hand that held the blood red box the dagger was stashed away in, uncertainty in his eyes. You knew he hated not knowing all the ins and outs of his inventory, especially when it came to something with such a hefty price tag. 

“Are you coming tonight?” He asked as you accepted the box which was now being held close to your chest. 

“It's the first show with our new singer but he's been fucking great in rehearsals. Really has an ear for the band.” 

You nodded, again flashing a friendly smile. “I wouldn't miss it for the world.” 

After a bit more chit chat and hammering down the finer details on how the night would go, you said your goodbyes to Nicholas with the obvious promise of seeing him in a few short hours. 

Making your way out of the shop, phone in hand and AirPods nestled in your ears, you only looked up when you were about to cross the street. On the opposite side stood a man, his dark eyes set entirely on you. He was wearing all black with deep brown hair that brushed his cheeks, hands clasped behind his back. Something about him made your stomach do a flip and you felt a pull despite having no idea who this man was. 

Slowly, your feet began to carry you along the crosswalk. He remained in place, though a faint smirk dared to appear over his lips. Your cheeks flushed crimson and you had the urge to glance away like some timid little school girl, but there was something preventing you from looking anywhere but at him. 

“Come.” 

A voice drifted into your mind and then back out as if being carried by the wind. You knew that should've frightened you but you felt nothing. Nothing aside from the biting need to be near this unknown man. 

Then, he was suddenly gone and you were left empty. 

The blaring beep of a horn shook you, your body flinching in surprise from the sudden harsh noise. You looked over to the car that was inches from colliding with you, a hand waving all about behind the windshield and motioning for you to get the fuck out of the way. 

× × ×

 

Arms above your head, you loudly hollered along with the rest of the crowd as the song came to an end. Red lights flashed all around you, the stage illuminating and going fully dark in quick succession. Your hands collided in a fury of claps before lowering to cup around your mouth. 

“Wooooo!” You had never been much of a ‘woo girl’ but alcohol made it loads more enjoyable to do. 

You could feel the vibrations from both the noise you projected and the bass of the band in the hollow of your stomach, reverberating throughout your entire being. There was something sensual about it - being able to not only hear the music but also feel it. 

Nicholas’ band had been pretty decent before so coming to see them and support their gigs was never an issue. But now? They were fucking amazing. The new singer definitely added to whatever they had been lacking previously, even if there wasn't anything specific you could put your finger on. 

Did it help that the new singer happened to catch your eye a few times? Maybe. 

“Hey!” Nicholas yelled out for you after their set. He had found you at the bar towards the back of the club - just where you always were. 

“Hey yourself!” You called back as a fresh drink was set in front of you by the bartender. 

Nick rolled his eyes at you but still chuckled. Sweat beaded on his forehead, pupils blown from the adrenaline rush he had experienced while on stage. You always thought Nick was pretty cute and you both had a lot in common - he had even asked you out once - but things were better kept as friends between the two of you. As well as the occasional artifacts dealer, of course. 

“Didn't get a chance to see you before we went on, so let me introduce you to the newest member.” 

“Noah!” The guy spoke up for himself, his voice loud enough for him to be heard over the commotion of the crowd and also the next band setting up. 

You paused as your gaze met his, eyes squinting ever so slightly while taking in his face from this new close proximity. He looked just like the ethereal man you had seen outside of Nick’s shop earlier, but also…not. That guy had been finely dressed with much shorter hair and a presence about him that demanded attention, this guy in front of you was the epitome of a 'guy in a band'. Long hair, jeans blown out at the knee, worn Vans that told you he dressed for comfort. Their smiles were the same, though. 

Instead of giving your name, you opted for a question.  “Do you have a brother?” 

Noah extended to you a look of confusion though you swore you saw a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. 

 “Uh, no? Not that I know of.” Despite your weird question, he laughed and stepped a bit closer to you, his elbow leaning into the side of the bar top. 

Nicholas had fallen into conversation with another band mate, leaving just you and Noah to entertain each other. 

You spared him the explanation of why you had asked such a question. The last thing you needed was to seem creepy or more odd than you already did on a day to day basis. Thankfully it didn't seem as if that was going to deter him from cozying up to you at the end of the bar. 

Drink after drink was had with a couple of shots downed in between. You had found out that Noah had recently moved to Los Angeles, worked at a graphic design company, owned a cat, and shared a building with a rather odd Asian woman that liked to bring him homemade meals multiple times a week. 

You also discovered that you liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled too wide and how he was always touching his face as if it was a comforting habit of some sort. 

“Nick said you like to collect…unusual things?” 

You cleared your throat and abruptly averted your gaze before he could realize you had been staring. 

“I guess that's one way to put it,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. Not even the alcohol could mask the embarrassment. 

“My dad was an antiques dealer, scam artist, whatever you want to call it.” You paused to take a swallow from your glass but to also let your honesty sink in. 

“So, I kinda just grew up with old objects that told a story. Buying them for myself - as someone who will care for them and their story - sounds better to me than allowing them to be on display in a stuffy museum somewhere.” 

“That's why you bought the dagger?” 

Huh…had you mentioned the dagger to him? Maybe not. Maybe so. Maybe Nick told him about it. Either way, you took in a deep breath, your head swimming from the alcohol. 

“Not exactly…” 

Noah looked at you curiously, silently asking for you to continue. To tell him. But how were you to explain that you awoke one day with this nagging obsession for the sigil stamped on the blade? That you desired to find every single item you possibly could that bore the same marking? It was impossible to divulge because you had no idea why you had become so hell bent on acquiring these things. You didn't even know what the damned sigil meant. 

“Did you want to see it?” 

And like he had been waiting for you to ask, Noah flashed a devilish grin.  

“I'd love to.”

× × ×

Pleasure erupted throughout your entire body as Noah kneeled between your spread legs. His hands held tight to your hips, pulling you down to grind against him with every forward thrusting motion. He groaned above you, teeth gritted and jaw clenched, revealing to you all the work he was putting in. 

And boy did you feel it. 

You had already cum twice - once from his mouth and again from him bending you over the arm of the couch when neither of you could make it to your bedroom fast enough. 

Most of the time even you had to pray the wind was blowing in the right direction so you could cum in a timely manner, yet Noah had managed to get you there in near record time. 

“Fucking hell! Right there!” You cried out as his cock pierced just the right spot within your drenched and aching cunt. Heavy pants escaped from you, each breath becoming louder and more pronounced the harder he drove his hips. 

Noah’s tattooed fingers dug deep enough into your hips that you knew you'd have bruises the next morning. They'd match the bruise you'd have on your ass from when he had you bent over and administered quite a harsh spank. 

He released your hips so he could trail his hands down along your tense thighs, kneading and massaging into the flesh. One hand continued its downwards trek to your clit as the other drifted up, pausing at your neck. Slender fingers secured around your throat and applied enough pressure to cause your heart to race and your breath to hitch, though not enough to cause any worry. 

Why would you ever be worried about hooking up with a stranger and allowing him into the privacy of your home? 

Noah's thumb swirled around your clit, each pass over the nerves causing your thighs to twitch and your hips to buck. He was then leaning over you so he could capture your lips in a hungry kiss, so much so that you swore you heard him growl against your lips. Not that you were fazed by this. 

“Uh uh,” he scolded after parting from your lips to gaze down at you. “Eyes open.” 

To show how serious he was in this demand, his hand further tightened around your throat, short nails digging into the sensitive skin. You gasped for air but it was all too much; the overpowering ecstasy that coursed through your every being as you felt his cock throb inside of you, the rigid veins that stimulated the tight walls of your pussy, his thumb on your clit, his onyx eyes never drifting from yours. 

How were you to survive this night? 

Your body tensed and your lower back arched as you felt the first ripplings of your orgasm. Your third orgasm. Then - everything released. You writhed beneath him, eyes finally closing which was no choice of your own, all while his name and a mixture of other profanities echoed through the room. 

In the midst of your climax, your vision was hazy from the intensity, as well as the lack of oxygen greeting your brain. With every blink Noah’s face shifted; it went from the band frontman you had met that night to the dark stranger across the street earlier in the day, then back again, only to repeat the cycle. There was no way that's what was really happening, so you chalked it up to your overactive imagination and mostly drunken state. 

The mess you made meant nothing to you, nor did the added mess of his cum when he managed to meet his ending in tandem. Noah’s hips lost momentum gradually before stilling completely, though your cunt continued to collapse and clench around him until your body finally settled. 

It wasn’t much later that Noah laid sprawled across your bed, his face pressed to the pillow, breathing steady after drifting off to sleep. Unfortunately, you didn't have the same luxury. There was a darkness creeping into your mind, repeated phrases demanding things of you, things of which you had never considered before. 

“Do it,” the voice whispered in your ear. 

At first you assumed it was Noah by the brush of his hair on your face and the familiar grasp of his fingers around your waist. But when you glanced back, he hadn't moved a muscle. 

“It would be so easy…”

“You want to. I know you want to. I can smell it on you.” 

When your eyes opened, the blood red box from Nick’s shop sat at your side. It was unwrapped, the dagger staring up at you from its temporary home. Taunting. Begging. Screaming to be touched. 

You listened. 

Fingertips traced the metal of the handle, down to the tip of the dagger that remained sheathed. 

“Pick it up.”

The order from the disembodied voice was obeyed, the dagger soon resting in your grasp. Still, no one was in the room with you other than Noah’s sleeping form, so how did you feel a breath on your neck? 

Rubies embedded in the dagger shone before your eyes now that it was held up for you to admire. So beautiful. Just what you had been searching for all this time. 

“Do it.”

You knew what the voice was asking of you. You knew it would end in your demise. Yet, you felt no fear. If anything, you were…excited. Possibly even anxious for what was to come. 

“Do it!” The voice loudly rang out, deep and commanding in your mind. 

Both hands now gripped the handle of the dagger after you pulled it from its sheath.  Arms stretched out before you, the blade was perfectly angled just where you somehow knew it needed to end up. 

Right in your heart. 

“Do it! Now!”

With quick motion that held all of your strength, you impaled the dagger into your own chest. You could hear it break through the bone that protected your heart - your body no match to the power that lied within the weapon. 

“...going to the flames if you're on the end of the blade.” Nick's voice now penetrated your mind, a memory from hours ago. His words being that of the loosely translated curse that the dagger held. 

As soon as the blade punctured your chest, you felt a sense of clarity. You knew what the curse now was: die by way of the blade, go straight to Hell. 

Eyes wide, you looked down to the dagger protruding from you. Blood spilled from the wound, coating your naked body, staining your sheets. You tried to call out for Noah despite knowing he wouldn't be able to do anything to help you. 

Gathering what remained of your strength, which was next to none, you again glanced back to where you expected to see him sleeping. Instead, he was standing at the side of the bed, hands clasped behind his back, wearing the same smirk you had seen from the other Noah outside of Nicholas’ shop. 

In a blink you were then being cradled in his tattooed arms. His fingertips brushed your hair back from your face in the most loving of gestures, lips moving though you couldn't make out a thing he was saying. You couldn't hear anything. Couldn't feel anything. All you could do was allow yourself to be encased by the cold hands of death as it dragged you deeper and deeper down to the dismal abyss. 

“I'll see you on the other side, my love.”

× × ×

The forever night of the land taunted you as you gazed out the large window. Stars freckled the sky, twinkling and swirling cosmos in some spots, remaining still in most just as the night sky did back home. 

Home. 

Everyday that passed you forgot more and more what it looked like. 

You had remembered your death, all of your deaths, within minutes this time. Noah was beyond pleased, confessing that he always wondered if dying by your own hand was the trick though he had been nervous to see. Nervous to know what it would do to you. 

Well, now he knew. 

You were livid. Never had you felt so betrayed, and you made sure he was well aware of your anger towards him. Something told you that he felt it in your lack of appearances since you had yet to face him fully since arriving. 

“The Dark Lord has requested your presence today.”

A demon who had been appointed to your side ran a brush through your hair, gently ridding the strands of any tangles that had formed while you slept. You had told them day one that you could do it yourself but they insisted. Tending to you was now their duties and they had to do as commanded. 

“You can tell the Dark Lord to kiss my ass,” you mocked. 

The demon held back what you thought was the semblance of a chuckle, their unusually long fingers continuing to ready your hair for the day. 

“Forgive me for being so blunt, but I think it would be best if you spoke with him. Perhaps let your grievances out however you see fit?” 

Had you not done that the moment your memories returned? You very much recall throwing a heavy tea pot at his head, although he had dodged it with ease. Were your shouts of frustration not enough? Your tears? 

It wasn't that you were upset to be back with him. You were more so mad about how he had gotten you here this time. There had to be some other way that left out the whole dying part. 

“What's your name?” 

The demon paused briefly at your question. You could tell they had never been asked before, though you weren't sure if it was because everyone else here knew how things went or if no one simply cared. 

“I don't remember.” 

This confused you. Shifting a bit in your seat, you turned your upper body to look at the creature. They were definitely a sight to behold; scaly skin that glistened as if perpetually wet, yellow eyes with only the smallest white pupil appearing like a cat’s, a row of chipped horns going down the center of their head. 

You had stopped being scared of the demons here long ago. 

“Lowly demons, such as myself, lose their names upon becoming what we are. We are simply demon. The others, the ones you've probably heard of in some capacity within your mortal stories, are given new names when they become His strongest warriors.” 

Out of all of your ventures here, you had never been told about the inner workings of the land. You found it to be interesting. 

“Oh…” You felt silly for even asking, now also concerned that you had probably brought up a sore subject for the demon. No name? No identity? You couldn't imagine. 

Once the demon had somehow managed to weave deep red garnets and black diamonds into your hair, you were sent off to where Noah would be waiting. You tried to fight it, arms crossed over your chest as you sat pouting on the edge of the bed, but eventually the demon helped you realize that Noah would see you whether you wanted it or not. It was wise for you to go to him. 

And so you did. Like some sort of invisible string leading you to him, you managed to find him standing on the large balcony that jutted out from the castle, overlooking his land in silence. His posture straightened upon sensing your arrival, gaze now set only on you. 

“You look…” Onyx eyes raked up and down your body, no shame detected within them as he took in the black gown you had been instructed to put on. You didn’t want to admit to him the way his heavy stare made you feel. There was already a tingling in your lower stomach that radiated down between your thighs - no. You wouldn't fall for it that easily this time. 

“Don't,” you merely requested, a hand being held up to signal for him to stop any further words. Steps were then taken around him so you could approach the railing of the balcony, the carved stone cool beneath your touch as you tightly grasped it. 

“You're still angry…”

You said nothing. Silence overtaking you. 

“I…” he began, his voice falling while trying to gather his thoughts. Never had he been so concerned about anyone else before. Never had he been forced to wonder what the right thing would be to earn your forgiveness. 

“I'm sorry that things had to happen this way.”

Well, that weak excuse for an apology definitely made you want to yell at him to shove it up his ass. 

Your jaw clenched, knuckles turning white from the death grip you held on the stone railing. It would surely crack and splinter if any more of your strength was to be endured. 

“I liked your hair better longer,” you finally spoke, though you didn't look his way. Instead, your gaze remained focused out into the night, slowly cataloging and memorizing every dip and valley. 

“That you was nicer.”

Noah slowly shook his head as he reached out to lightly touch your hair, heated fingertips brushing the strands from your bare shoulder to reveal the curve of your neck. 

“Funny, because that was me, just in a slightly altered form to keep up appearances.”

As if he could read your thoughts, he continued. 

“I was never human, you know this. So, there are no other versions of me like there have been of you. There's only one. That's how it'll forever be.” 

Anger flared within you. “You're telling me…that you've been able to come to Earth this entire time? That I haven't needed to brutally die again and again to be with you? You are an insufferable mons-”

A strong hand grasped your arm, turning your body and pulling you in closer. You could tell that Noah wanted to speak to you as if you were one of his demons, someone for him to control, but he managed to contain his rage. 

“Do you know the danger I put my entire realm in just to walk amongst the living with you for an extended period of time? To go for my own selfish reasons and not because of my duties? To help guide you back to me? You're blind to the repercussions this land faced. Souls piled up, punishments halted, everything at a standstill. Do you think that has ever happened before?”

Silence as your eyes searched his. 

“We may have spent one night together on Earth, but the sheer amount of deaths within that singular night that went unprocessed…” 

Noah shuddered at the thought, his grip on you then loosening before releasing completely. 

“Think of me what you will, but what I did was for us. Everything I've done, and will do again and again, for us.”

You wanted to understand. You wanted to touch his face and tell him everything was okay. You wanted to press yourself into him and let his warmth overtake you. 

You wanted so many things, but none of it was what you did. 

Instead of giving into these wants and needs, you gave him one last look and then turned on your heel to saunter back into the farthest reaches of the castle. 

× × ×

The only thing you truly despised about this place was the lack of time. While you had an abundance of it, more than you could ever ask for, you still had no idea how much had passed. Days? Months? Hell, maybe a century? Time didn't work the same way here as it did on Earth, which you already knew, but it surely did drag when you were choosing to spend it alone. 

You had attempted to keep track of it at the beginning but eventually gave up when nothing fit the way it should have in your human mind. Noah even offered to set a sleep schedule, though that disappeared rather fast when his duties became too much to juggle along with it. 

A heavy sigh expelled from you as you flipped over onto your back. Your eyes stared through the darkness of your bedroom and up to the high ceiling where the same stars as the night sky beyond the open window danced along. A neat little trick Noah did when he knew you were restless. He may have been an asshole but he knew how to make you melt when showing his softer side. A side no one had ever seen before you. 

With another huff, you caved. 

Moments later you were standing in front of his bedroom door after having gently knocked. The door opened almost immediately, revealing his relaxed form sitting upon a grandeur bed with papers strewn about. It was always funny to see him do actual work especially when you had never witnessed anyone outside of the demons wandering the halls. 

Sometimes you'd hear other voices when he was locked away in his study, but nothing beyond that. 

“Stars didn't work?” 

You twisted your lips, head shaking in a single motion. 

“They're nice - beautiful - but it's not the same as…” you trailed off for a moment while trying to decide how much of your pride you were willing to spill down the drain. Not the same as when we're laying together. 

Noah noticed, he knew what you were going to say. He allowed you to keep the stubborn pride for now. In a snap the papers cleared away from a spot on the bed for you, an invitation to join him. 

Sitting against him, your knees bent to the side and your head resting on his shoulder, he continued to work. He would occasionally look over at you, brush your hair back, lightly touch your lips or cheek, then focus again. 

How you had managed to wrap Death around your finger, you would never know. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

Noah nodded, the paper in his hand being placed down so he could fully focus on you now. Another thing you loved about him: he never made you feel as if your presence was a bother. No matter what he was in the middle of. 

“Is this how you've always looked? Or do you only appear like this to me?” 

A crooked smile appeared on his features, his eyes crinkling in the corners just as you remembered from your brief time on Earth with him. 

“Why do you ask?” 

Avoidance - as usual. 

“I don't know…I mean, when it comes to humans, you are either shown as a skeleton in robes or this otherworldly beautiful man without flaws.” You shrugged. 

You didn't add on that you were also curious as to what was real. 

Noah didn't taunt you for your poor wording choice. He knew he was beautiful and he knew that you also knew this, but he understood what you meant. 

“Technically,” he began while rubbing his chin as if trying to find the right way to describe it to you, “I'm without a body because what I am transcends physical being.” 

Okay, that you could understand, at least for the most part. Was it still an odd thought? Yes, of course. All of this was odd. 

“But I've chosen to take on a flesh and blood form, even before you came along the first time. It helps to do so in my line of work…so the souls can relate, maybe feel a bit of comfort for a brief moment.” 

As he spoke you traced random designs and patterns into the top of his thigh, your fingertip slowly dragging along the soft material of his pants. You inwardly smirked to yourself when you noticed him shiver as your fingers traveled higher along his inner thigh. 

“I may have adjusted a few things specifically for you, though.” 

“That's why you have all the tattoos?” Your hand left his thigh so you could lightly touch the front of his neck, eyes focused on the inked designs that were quite an interesting choice for him. The religious visuals weren't lost on you - you knew why he had chosen those in particular. A cruel mocking to those above. A middle finger to the “Light Ones” who were always trying to act all better-than-thou. 

You didn't tell him that this was quite a human response just to spare you the glare he would surely respond with. 

“And the lisp?” You further teased, a smile finally gracing your lips again. 

“Again - makes me relatable.”

You hummed in thought, watching him as he watched you. Noah had yet to return to his work meaning he knew there was more you wanted to say. And while this was true, you were more so transfixed by how close you two were. You could feel his breath on your face and see the patterns of different brown shades within his irises, both combined drawing you closer and closer until finally your lips collided with his. 

Were you still mad at him? Yes, very much so, but that didn't change the feelings you had for him. The tether between you was far too strong, probably impossible to snap. 

Noah didn't waste any time as your kiss deepened and intensified. He leaned back into the pillows of his bed, drawing you with him until your body almost completely covered his. You touched along his face and down his chest, eager fingers tugging and pushing at the shirt he wore. You needed him now. 

There were moments when you both liked to take your time, each unwrapping the other like a precious gift, fully savoring the anticipation. Then there were times when it was impatient and needy, as if you couldn't get him inside of you fast enough. Simply a blur of hands until you were both naked without the pesky barriers of clothes getting in the way of your desires.

One guess as to which side you were both currently feeling. 

As your clothes were stripped away, flimsy lace being tossed aside, you further crawled on top of him. Knees pressed down onto either side of his hips, your nails scratching along his inked chest before firmly grasping his broad shoulders. The kiss you shared had yet to cease, both of you kissing the other with a desperate need; sweeping tongues and clashing of teeth. 

Noah released your hips to cup your breasts within his large hands, thumbs skimming and circling your sensitive nipples to pull a faint whimper from you. Chills formed over your heated skin, your teeth roughly sinking into his lower lip that caused him to hiss and pinch your nipples in return. 

“Behave,” he lowly threatened while you could only pout in response. 

Both hands then fell from your chest; one dropped to begin pushing his last article of clothing down as the other gripped tight into your hair. Noah roughly yanked your head to the side to further expose your neck, his lips immediately kissing a hot trail to your jaw. He knew exactly what teasing your neck did to you, arousal pooling between your thighs as you needily whimpered for him. 

“And you thought you'd be able to stay away.” 

You wanted to knee him right in the side for the petty comment, but he was already adjusting your position and tugging you higher up on his hips so you could hover above his hard cock. 

Noah smirked against your skin, his tongue flicking at the sensitive spot right below your ear. The moment his teeth nipped at the same spot he pushed your hips down so the wide swollen head of his cock could force through your tight entrance. You gasped and he groaned in unison, his own muscles straining from the vice grip your cunt already had on him. 

“I can stay away,” you countered. “I just didn't want to.”

The devilish gleam returned to his eyes while gazing up at you, knowing that deep down you also knew you couldn't stay away. It didn't matter what your stubborn protest said. 

Releasing your hair, both of Noah’s hands held tight to your hips. You were still trying to adjust to his size, slowly easing yourself down another inch, but he was clearly much more impatient than you were. This was proven when he forced your hips all the way down until they sat flush against his, the entirety of his cock tunneling through your pussy. Of course how wet you were helped, but nothing could ease the tight stretch. 

Your head tossed back as you released a loud moan, all other thoughts leaving your mind except for those of him. Sharp nails dug so deep into his chest that you swore you would draw blood - not that Noah would care. 

“Good girl,” the Dark Lord rasped. 

His impatience didn't end there. Although he wanted to be kind and let you find your bearings, there was truly no need when he was well aware that you liked things just as he did: rough, animalistic, whatever you wanted to call it. 

Keeping you steady atop him, his hips thrusted up from the bed in rapid succession, angling just right to make sure your body quivered and your cries of pleasure never ceased. Noah loved watching you come undone for him, loved seeing your stubbornness overtaken by your pure need for the sensations that only he could give you. Everything about it, from the sounds you made to the way your face contorted in pleasure, was addicting. 

You could barely contain yourself as he continued to drive his throbbing cock straight up into you. Your pussy fluttered, more and more of your arousal slipping free until it ran down his length and helped aid in his endeavors to completely ruin you. Noah knew that you were already close, he could tell by the way your moans became more frequent and heightened in pitch. 

“That's it,” he grunted as his hands tightened around your waist and he forced you down to roughly meet the upward thrusts of his hips. “Let go.”

As if on command, your body seized and your back arched. An orgasm ripped through you, claiming full control as you trembled and your hips jerked, the pleasure so intense that you couldn't even make a sound. 

Noah had no intentions of stopping, though. He settled down against the bed, still buried as deep as possible within the warmth of your climaxing cunt. His grip fell from your waist to your hips, now guiding you in a back and forth grind to keep you overstimulated and whimpering for him. 

“You're so fucking beautiful when you cum for me.” 

In a swift motion he had you on your back, the papers from his work crunching beneath you, some digging into your skin but it was of no concern to you right then. You were basking in the high of your orgasm, well aware that there was more to come. Noah never stopped at just one. He had to bring you as close to breaking as he possibly could before he was satisfied. Sometimes that could be done in as little as two rounds and sometimes you were at it for hours until you had lost count of your orgasms and forming any sort of coherent thought was impossible. 

Not daring to pull out from your warmth, Noah brought one of your legs over so your lower half twisted for him, leaving you open and vulnerable but still capable of seeing each other. You quivered as you felt the thick rigid veins that lined his cock throb when they shifted within you, every inch of you sensitive from the orgasm you were still coming down from. 

Noah had a hold of your ass in one hand and your thigh in the other to make sure you remained right where he wanted you as he slowly pulled out until just the head of his cock remained. Then, he used every bit of strength he had to thrust right back into you, the pace being set slow but impossibly hard. Your jaw clenched and your toes curled, your body barely able to handle what Noah presented to you. 

You shook your head, squeaks and whimpers of words unsaid escaping from your throat. He knew what he was doing to you, though. He knew exactly what angles to fuck you from that would leave you dumb - for lack of a better term. 

“Is it too much for you, my love?” He taunted, a mock sympathetic tone to his voice. 

To show that he didn't care, he only picked up his speed, the driving force behind his hips remaining relentless. The harsh slap as your bodies collided sounded through the room, followed by a piercing smack when his strong hand came down upon your ass cheek, mixing with your symphony of moans. Your walls ached and burned but you didn't dare request he stop, not even for a moment, though you didn't truly want him to. You loved when he would get like this, a sort of sadistic gleam flaring in his dark eyes despite trying to pleasure you to the best of his abilities. 

“Touch yourself.” 

The demand made you whine under your breath. Noah knew what he was doing. You managed to slip your hand down between your clamped thighs, a fingertip brushing the swollen nerves ever so softly, but it was enough to make your body twitch and your cunt clamp tighter around his cock. His brows pulled together, the hold he had on you tightening. 

It was too much. Your body was so sensitive, and touching your clit was that mixture of pleasure and pain that made your abdomen muscles tense and your hips writhe. 

“I didn't say to stop,” Noah hissed through gritted teeth. How he had known you paused your fingers over your clit, you weren't sure, but you quickly obeyed his demand again. 

“N-Noah…” you whimpered, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to spill over. You looked up at him through your watery vision, though you were still able to make out the smirk he wore upon his flushed cheeks. Not even the damp strands of dark hair could cover that look in his eyes as he gazed down at you, enamored with all that you were. 

“Uh uh,” he shook his head. “If you stop, then so do I.” 

Fuck. That was the last thing you wanted. It may have been too much and overwhelming but you were desperate to cum again. Not only that, but you needed to feel him filling you as well. You needed his cum seeping out of you, warming you from the inside out. Breathing a life into you that was ironic for Death. 

His grip remained tight on your thigh though his other hand slithered up to knead at your breast, his fingers digging into your flesh, pinching and tugging your nipple. You were getting close again, so so close. As your own fingers continued to rub your clit, each stroke sending electric shocks through you, you released moan after moan, crying out his name in pleasure. 

“Next time we should place a bet on how long you can go without my dick,” he spoke through his own groans, the strain evident in his voice. 

Noah released your breast and instead secured his long tattooed fingers around your throat. His grip was tight, a silent reminder that he could easily crush your airways if he ever had the desire to do so. Which he didn't - he would never lay a hand on you in ways you didn't beg for - but the danger of it, the possibility, radiated down to your core and helped build your oncoming climax. 

“I know you're constantly needy for it. I can smell your arousal when I'm near, so sweet and intoxicating…” 

His voice was raw and deep, each word sending you closer to the edge. Every touch to your body felt like a flame licking your skin, tears still welling in your eyes, your cunt desperate for both your release and his. 

“Please…” you begged in a breathless whisper as your fingers circled your clit in a messy rhythm, unable to get pace with his brutal pounding. 

Noah’s lips twitched within his lingering smirk when your pleas met his ears, the sound causing his cock to twitch and his hips to snap in a quick succession into you. 

A single nod was given, allowing you the gift of an orgasm, and also letting you know that even he couldn't find his words anymore. He was far too focused on the tight grip of your pussy that was swallowing him deeper, almost like he could hear it begging for his cum. If that didn't feed his already oversized ego, then nothing would. 

The pressure built until you couldn't stand it anymore. Your fingers and toes tingled, a white hot heat exploding throughout the entirety of your body as you were overcome with your orgasm. Sharp nails raked down his forearm, skin breaking in their path and sullying the tattoos, though you knew it would heal rapidly. Your cunt erupted in a rush that soaked the sheets and also managed to push Noah right over the edge with you. Typically he had better control, but sometimes it was even too much for him. 

“Fuck…you're so good at taking it, you always are.” 

A final thrust had him emptying inside of you, feeding you that particular warmth you had been desperate for. You hummed in delight, your eyes heavy lidded but focused solely up on him so you could witness his undoing. Noah’s eyes closed and brows furrowed, his jaw falling slack as your name was groaned from him once, twice, three times. You could feel his muscular thighs trembling and you just knew he was trying his best not to collapse on you from the power of his orgasm and also the workout he had just put himself through. 

Neither of you had fully calmed before he was leaning down and forcing his lips to yours. He held firm to your chin for the duration of the hungry kiss, though it didn't last nearly as long as you would have preferred. 

Breaking from the kiss, Noah sat back up so he could slowly withdraw from your depths. He groaned at the sight of your mixed finishes dripping free, only to gently slide two fingers into your pussy with the gathered cum so you didn't lose a drop. You whimpered at the feeling, legs now spread in front of him and knees shaking. 

“Noah,” you murmured in a faint whine. “I can't.” 

Your protest didn't stop his fingers from slowly working their way in and out of your sore pussy, the strokes gentle but still overwhelming. 

“I know, my love, I just wanted to see those tears again.” 

And tears you had - a couple of stray drops falling down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat that you both exuded. 

Only when he was satisfied did he remove his fingers, just to bring them to your awaiting lips. As if on instinct you pulled them into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue swirling around his inked digits to clean his cum and yourself from them. 

“Good girl.” 

Thankfully, Noah let you rest. He easily could've gone again and again but he knew you were merely a mortal (undead or not) and he didn't want the fine line between pleasure and strictly pain to be crossed. Experiencing both was one thing, something you both enjoyed and gave consent to, but forcing you to entertain only the latter for his own selfish needs was not desirable to him. 

You drifted in and out of restful sleep as you curled into Noah’s side. Your head rested upon his chest, legs tangled, his strong arm encompassing you and keeping you close. The featherlight touch of his fingertips trailing up and down your arm brought goosebumps forward, though the loving affection had you luling to sleep again. That is, until he spoke what had been plaguing his mind. 

“They're going to come for you,” he murmured, a sadness in his voice. “The Light Ones.” 

A slight sound escaped you, your head slowly shaking. Your own arm circled around his bare torso, now hugging yourself even closer to his form. Even though he was Death, something everyone feared, he had always brought a sense of peace over you. 

“Why do you let them?” 

In the past Noah had protested when they'd come for you; he would yell and threaten and make them force you away from him if they were going to take you. Never did he truly fight, though. 

A deep inhale caused your head to drift up, and then slowly back down when he exhaled. You knew he was trying to find how to word his response in a way you would understand, or at least so he wouldn’t inadvertently offend you. 

“Because at least then I know I'll see you again. If I fight, go to war for you, the Light Ones could end your bloodline completely.” 

“As in…”

“You would cease to exist. No other versions. No rebirths. I'd only have my memories of you to keep me going for the rest of eternity.” 

All of that for one lousy human? That was the main thing that had always confused you. You didn't understand why you being with Noah was so frowned upon. Why they wanted to make him suffer. Why they were determined to keep you apart. What sort of threat did his happiness pose? 

“It's not 'normal’ for us to love because it's not what we were created for, especially not me. The Light Ones claim to have love for all, whereas I'm supposed to be the other side of the coin - the hate.” Noah took in another deep breath as if explaining it all to you physically pained him. Having to admit what his purpose was…it brought him hurt, and in turn, that hurt you. 

“So for me to love, and to place all that love in one person, it makes me…” he paused and his arm around you tightened. 

“It makes us dangerous.” 

This is when you tilted your head up to look at him. Your eyes met and you offered a gentle smile, one to show him that you understood, but that didn't mean you had to accept it. You wouldn't. Not anymore. 

“I'm tired of only being able to see you in death,” you softly spoke. Your fingertips grazed slowly along the underside of his jaw and then down the curve of his neck, your gaze following the trail. When you got to the snake you paused, your nail lightly tracing the outline. “I want to fight.” 

Noah shook his head and soon his hand clasped around your own, your fingers intertwining together. “I won't risk losing you forever. I can't.” 

“And I will,” you challenged, your voice stern. “What you do here in your realm should be none of their concern. You're the fucking King, remember? Or have you already forgotten yelling that at me millenia ago?” 

The faintest of smirks tugged at the corners of his lips - of course he remembered. Noah remembered every minute, every second, that he has ever spent with you. Nothing could take those memories from him. 

“We'll discuss this further in the morning, after you've slept and had some breakfast.” 

With that, Noah blew the candle out on the conversation. The dark now surrounded you both, only the twinkling of the stars he had summoned able to be seen on the ceiling above. 

[yurinaa-world]

Hi‼️‼️

I saw ur requests were open, so can I request Dr ratio with a reader that's like hitori gotoh/bocchi from bocchi the rock?

It's totally up to u if u want it platonic

Bocchi is an extremely introverted girl with high social anxiety, making it very difficult for her to talk to strangers. She often tries to avoid interactions. (The anime is like k-on?)

If u haven't watched it, then replace bocchi with a character u know that has a similar personality traits as bocchi

Ok have a good day/night‼️‼️

"𝒟𝑜 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑜?"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Veritas Ratio x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader that's like hitori gotoh

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈𝒾𝒶 𝒢𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹"

Veritas is all for pushing past boundaries to fund yourself (it's deep under the silver-tongued tone he speaks in) but he knows you well, you've always been the way you are since the first time you met each other. 

Even if you say you don’t remember it he sure does (might’ve been the best day of his life), you somehow grew into something more, and now you're still together (the real ride or die). He can see how you try your hardest. All that comes out is whispers accompanied by slight stutters whenever you talk with anyone else (it’s not too bad when you talk to him).

Whenever he sees you at the same event as him (standing in the corner, looking down, hoping to leave the second you get there) forget anyone he's talking to, he wants to check on you. (he adores more than anyone else.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

What were you thinking about coming here, it’s so obvious you don’t belong here. Standing in the corner while everyone else congregates in the middle of the room in big groups (everyone but you), talking about the big milestones in their lives or showing off credentials.

 “I’ve just gotten my degree in…” “I got the highest score in the entire…” hearing the small snippets of conversations that just made you want to leave more. Still, it would be embarrassing when people immediately notice you going as the event starts. The best thing to do is to keep your arms crossed and look down, hoping that no one will take to you and you’ll just get out of this perfectly fine. 

Maybe in your last ditch effort, looking around to see if anyone’s alone as well, just to see anyone who was alone, immediately get with their friends or people they were waiting for. This is just getting worse for you. 

“If you think everyone else is in the same predicament as your pitiful self, then you’re mistaken.” You know that voice from anywhere, turning to your side to see Veritas standing next to you with his arms crossed and a blank expression. You feel a bit embarrassed for being called out.

 “I wasn’t doing that….just looking…”

“Looking at people talking while you stand here like a sore thumb? I doubt that’s the case.”

Now this is just downright humiliating and makes you think he just loves calling you out, which makes you curse him out in your head the entire time. “I have you, so it’s not like I'm a complete loner.” You just murmur, it’s a shameless last ditch to pull since already his next words might be like ‘I was just talking to you in pity’—maybe that imagination was a bit mischaracterized.

He just sighs at the words you just spoke, this event is not suited for you, so you both will just leave together, taking the initiative to interweave your hand in his. “The back exit is this way if you don’t want to draw attention.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

If I have to deal with brain rot about this absolutely awful man, so do y'all! Really looking forward to playing Dead Money so I can torture you with more.

Dean Domino (Fallout: New Vegas, Dead Money DLC) NSFW Headcanons

Is the King of Swing good in bed? Complicated question; he's too selfish to say that he is with any confidence. It depends on the day, frankly. He was a massive slut back in his prime, and he's perfectly well acquainted with how to show you a good time when the two of you are in bed together. Whether or not he cares enough in that moment to bother to make you cum is an entirely different matter. There are days he wants to show off, wants to hear you tell him how good he is, but there are also plenty of days where he'll happily use your body to jerk himself off and won't think for a second about your pleasure beyond what it'll do for him. On days like that, he wants you wet/stretched enough to take him, but that's all he cares about.

I've discussed this with folks a bit in replies on other posts, but I think it's very worth elaborating on: he would be so fun to dominate. He'd be the world's most petulant, bratty sub, and so confident that you wouldn't be able to break him, that he'll stay cool and in control of the situation, no problem. However, he's sorely mistaken. Dean Domino is a brat who was made to be broken. Tie his ass up and beat him a bit. Edge him until he literally cries. He insists he won't beg; prove him wrong. It's the sweetest sight you've ever taken in. I've never met a single character who needs to have his cock slapped like a million times more than him. And honestly, I think if you gave him the full routine and then treated him completely neutrally over the proceeding few days, as if nothing had even happened, he'd beg then, too, desperate to experience what you made him feel again...though not without a lot of petulant bitching first. How dare you act like you can drag him around by his prick, just because you absolutely can if you do it right...?!

Any ongoing relationship with Dean is going to be a constant power struggle. As insecure as he obviously is, he's forever rearing to "put you in your place" in a litany of ways; talking down to you, insulting you flippantly, all the nonsense you see from him when you interact with him in-game. If you don't push back at him (or show him where his place is, per the previous point), he will absolutely walk all over you, including sexually. Maybe that's what you're into. He doesn't really care all that much as long as he's getting whatever he wants out of you.

Biter. Always has been. Used to get a kick outta fucking actors and actresses and just covering them in bite marks and bruises that would be incredibly difficult to cover with makeup, because he likes attention and he's possessive, even of toys he doesn't particularly want to play with anymore.

Almost never takes off those goddamn sunglasses (because, in my mind, he thinks they make him harder to read...plus, he has super light-colored eyes, and once he's traveling the desert, he's constantly blinded by the sun), but one of the rare times you can guarantee he'll remove them is when you're giving him head. He wants to be able to see every detail of you worshiping him with your lips and tongue.

Obviously he's big into degradation, which is clear in the way he speaks to you, about you and others. He can, however, be persuaded to be rather sweet (though still entirely self-aggrandizing) when he's in a good mood. He'll tell you how gorgeous you look...on his cock. What a pretty voice you have...why don't you sing for him some more so he can hear how good he makes you feel? Every compliment also has to basically be a positive comment to himself, as well.

Leg and ass man. He makes some comments about Vera that hint at this, but he's not usually quite so tactful about it. Will openly grope you in public, both to embarrass you a bit and because he doesn't care enough to hold back when he feels like touching you.

Really enjoys a giving you a good cum facial. He finds it just the right mix of disgusting, dominating, and possessive. If he can find a way to force you to keep his cum on your face, he will. Even better if someone else sees you that way.

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 5, In Which You Turn Out To be Capable of More Than You Thought

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 (Part 2)

AO3

You had the sweetest dreams. 

You lived in a beautiful mansion in a world where capitalism had fallen (which did not prevent you from living in a mansion), you no longer had to work (well, because capitalism had obviously fallen) and, most importantly, you became Raphael's one and only dark consort (you were not sure how capitalism fit into this narrative), whom he cherished and loved more than anyone, even more than the Crown above his horns. 

Perched atop Raphael’s lap in the throne room, surrounded by a crowd of souls kneeling before you and begging for your mercy (including your high school bully Thomas, who once locked you up in the bathroom, and the ex who cheated on you), you suddenly heard the distinct ringtone of a Teams call. It's a sound that could never be mistaken for anything else; it could be used as a method of torture. 

You made a mental note to suggest this to Raphael later on.

The call seemed downright disrespectful to your new status as the Archduchess of all Hells, so you ignored it; surprisingly, it did not stop. Thinking about how you would ask Raphael to execute whoever disturbed your bliss, you stretched out your hand to swipe the huge green button that was being projected right across the throne hall.

"Anya?" The voice on the other end was familiar, but you couldn't place it. 

Your mind struggled to come to life and make sense of your surroundings. 

Why were you lying naked? 

What time was it?

Why did your whole body ache?

And why was there a wet patch beneath you? 

To answer at least the last question, you reached down to touch the moisture between your legs, and saw thick white liquid coating your fingers in the soft morning light. You went for a sniff: smelt like a freshly burned match and salty musk. 

Oh, fuck.

Okay, so Raphael wasn't big on safe sex (which probably should have been expected from someone who lived in the House of Hope). Not that you remembered asking him for protection. Not that you were able to or wanted to. The thought of him coming inside you seemed insanely hot yesterday; but now, in the clear light of day, it just seemed insane.

Don’t human women all die horribly giving birth to half-devils?

The voice on the phone called out again, "Anya, are you still there? Are you okay?"

“Yes?”, you responded hesitantly and pulled your fingers away from your nostrils. 

"You're fifteen meetings late for our meeting," the voice reminded you, and you finally remembered who it belonged to.

Your supervisor. Not a bad guy, not a good guy, just a burnt out middle-aged man who never imagined himself stuck in middle management while going through a messy divorce.

"We had a meeting?" You asked, even though somewhere deep down in your foggy brain you knew very well that you did have one scheduled.

You sat down on the bed and did you best to suppress a moan: your arse was bruised raw.

“Your development talk, Anya”, your supervisor sighed. “Did you… did you just wake up? It’s fifteen past ten.”

Quick, think of a believable excuse. Your cat died? No, he knows you don't have one. Your grandmother passed? No, that would be disrespectful to her memory. You were robbed? No, then you wouldn't be sleeping so soundly...

"No, I...I didn't," you stammered, desperately trying to come up with something, anything.

"Do you want to turn your camera on?" He asked. "It helps during these talks."

No, you didn't want to turn on your camera unless you wanted to make absolutely sure he saw you stark naked - which was definitely not going to work in your favour (or maybe it would, but you didn't want to test it). You shifted on the bed (your bed made a very obvious, very loud creaking noise) and your supervisor cleared his throat. 

“I am not feeling too well, sorry”, you said. “I’d rather not”.

That wasn't entirely false - between the sore arse and what felt like bite marks on various parts of your body and what the hell was that purple bruise on your thigh? 

There was silence before he spoke again, "Well then...I guess we're halfway done here. Did you hear about the news?"

“The news?”, you echoed.

"You haven't checked our company website?"

Does anyone actually bother to check those?

"Mmm-hmm," You responded noncommittally.

"Okay," your supervisor sighed. "We've been acquired, and as a result, there will be some changes and layoffs."

"Oh," was all you could manage to say.

"I'm currently making a list of potential layoffs."

"Oh," you repeated, starting to understand where this conversation was going.

"Anya," he began, his tone more serious now. "I don't want to sound harsh, I have enjoyed working with you. As a friendly suggestion: it might look better on your resume if it appeared that leaving was your own decision."

Hell no, you won’t let the corpo screw you over.

“Hey, no, I want a severance package. I’ve been working for this company for three years”.

"Sure," he responded. "You are fully entitled to it. But first, we'll have to review your work activity. You know, what you did on your work computer, which websites you visited, how often you were active."

Maybe you’ll let the corpo screw you over.

“Never mind,” you surrendered. “I’ll come by today to pick up my stuff.”

“I am glad we could find a mutually beneficial decision”, your supervisor said, wished you a nice day, dropped off the call, and left you naked and pissed off.

As you got up, you felt something dripping down your legs. Wonderful, washing Raphael’s cum off the carpet sounded like the perfect start to your morning. You used your blanket to clean yourself (it would be easier to wash later) and dragged yourself to the bathroom.

On your way there, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror and couldn't help but let out an exasperated laugh. The make-up from yesterday was still smeared on your face in dark trails, making you look like a freshly fired and thoroughly fucked racoon. 

Sighing, you stepped into the shower and let the warm water wash away Raphael's seed, sweat and the remnants of yesterday's make-up. Oh, you thought as you washed it all away: maybe you should have brought some of Raphael's DNA to study in the lab. Then you would have a solid proof. They also might have found a way to breed powerful cambion super-soldiers.

Anya, why do you always have to think such bullshit? Raphael is from Dungeons & Dragons, not Warhammer.

Your bruises ached even worse under the hot water.

“You know, Raphael”, you spoke to yourself as you wrapped yourself in a towel. “I start to think there might be some issues with our relationship”.

Your phone chimed with a message.

"good morning my lovely girl," it read, instantly piquing your interest.

Oh, wow. Okay, you guys might have some issues, but he is certainly kind of sweet. You were about to pick up your phone to type something as sweet back (good morning my favorite devil?), when another notification popped up. 

“Did you know your Raul is one of the richest people in the country??”

Ah, damn. Your mum seemed to be in an excellent mood - why was that?

Probably because “Raul” made it to some mightiest and greatest list.

“I hope the date went well please call love mama god bless 🙏🥰”

As soon as you got yourself dried up, you were scanning the corporate website (last time you checked it when you prepared for an interview); the acquisition news was on the front page. You hastily scanned through the article.

“…was yesterday acquired by Avernus Capital AG, Zürich. The legal aspects of the transaction were handled by the Managing Partner Raul d'Avergni…”

By whom?

By whom?

Oh, for fuck’s sake, Raphael! So you can remember to get me fired but a condom slips your mind? Does he even know what those are? Has he ever needed to use one?

Ah, now you understand why he hadn’t called for the whole three days. He was working hard on fucking up your life. Screw reigning over the nine hells as the Archdevil Supreme when there's a girl who spent six months after graduation hunting this job (damn this economy) to torment.

Yes, you hated your job, but it paid the bills. Your emergency fund would cover one month expenses, tops. Raphael gave you a thousand over Twitch, that was nice, but that won’t last long either. If you buy plan B and visit a gyno, that’s one hundred less, easy. You can’t ask your mother for any help, either - she could barely make ends meet as it is.

Fine. Breathe in, breathe out. Perhaps he got you fired to offer you a better job; wasn't that what he mentioned yesterday? That’s right. Your work for me is not yet done, he said. That’s it; he has another job and needs all of your free time. 

You grabbed your phone to call him to confirm; and then you realized you still did not have his number, all the times he called you (which was exactly one) it was from a no caller ID. 

So much for that plan. Fine, the other way, then. You fired up BG3, the save from his Sharess Caress room.

The sight of his avatar and the inviting huge bed behind him stirred a pang of longing in you. "Hey, I miss you," you murmured to the screen, "Could you call me, please?"

“Give me the Crown that dominates the elder brain”, Raphael answered, not a line off the scripted talk.

“I already did that and now you are here. What’s the next task?”.

“A crown for a hammer, a deal of a lifetime”, Raphael ignored you and carried on with his talk with Tav.

The devil didn't toss you any curveballs, no ad-libbed lines or cheeky glances that shattered the fourth wall; just the same old scripted scenarios you'd already seen and played through. You jumped between saves, but nada. Your mum called you three or four times in the meanwhile. You shot her a short message that everything was okay (everything wasn’t), and you’ll call her later. 

Next, you scrolled through the missed discord notifications, filled with images and screen caps of Raphael and other Tavs, hundreds of other Tavs, elves, tieflings, humans, a wide gallery of his bloody harem (especially the modded Durges got under your skin) from the new romance scene Larian dropped. You were very tempted to tell them all about your night with Raphael and how it was the best sex you've ever had and on an unrelated note, do all women really die if they give birth to cambions? 

But then again, you’ve been called crazy enough lately. Better to delete the whole app. 

Who has time to chat in discord? Definitely not people with full-time jobs.

…Right.

In the afternoon, you decide to go to your office in the center of the city to pick up the few things they still had and hand in the things you still had . Company badge, laptop, chargers; three years' work fit into a cardboard box. Your last pay cheque will arrive on Friday, they said. 

Thank you for your hard work and dedication, and for making us a euro while we give you a cent and go get lost. Interviewing for them took a whole day; leaving them took half an hour.

The office was half empty; the few who were there were preparing to celebrate the grand occasion of being taken over by Avernus Capital (wouldn’t have happened without you, by the way, and you doubted that the new owner would be that nice). You mumbled a few hellos and how do you dos, but you realised (not that you ever thought otherwise) how little you cared for these people, and how little they cared for you.

The only one you really wanted to talk to you couldn't be reached.

Wait, but Raphael's office was only two underground stations away, you thought. If you can't call, maybe you can pay him a visit and congratulate him in person on his great acquisition.

Raphael's office, a multi-storey eighteenth-century building with the golden letters D'Avergni & Partners plastered all over it, looked very unwelcoming from the outside; inside it had all the warmth of a mausoleum. Dark grey walls loomed around you, somewhere between an art gallery and a prison cell. Art Deco furniture with sharp angles filled the space as floor-to-ceiling windows let in cold shards of light. You were stopped dead at the reception desk.

The receptionist's lips curved into a polite smile as you approached. 

She actually seemed nice, not the snotty bombshell type usual at such kinds of places; she had a tired smile and dark bags under her make-up.

"I would like to see Raul d'Avergni," you said, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

She looked at you as if you had entered a church and asked for a personal audience with God. Doubt gnawed at your resolve, but retreating now would be even more awkward.

Some young men, sipping coffee from their plastic cups next to an espresso robot, looked at you curiously through their thick-rimmed glasses.

"Good morning!" chirped the receptionist, regaining her composure. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Ugh, no..." you replied, trying to sound confident. “I'm his (what, what, what?)… his girlfriend, actually”.

Brilliant. 

She arched her eyebrows slightly, looking at your "Astarion approves" badge on your rucksack, which had seen quite a bit of action in its life (the summer festivals!), then at your "nique la police" T-shirt. Yes, you didn't give much thought to what you were wearing, but then again, you weren't planning to visit Raphael when you came here. 

The receptionist did her best to remain professional, but you could sense that she was very doubtful about your statement.

"I am afraid Mr. d'Avergni is in meetings all day today," she offered with an apologetic smile. "Perhaps you could try calling him if it is a private matter?"

Yeah, great idea. Your cheeks flushed as embarrassment washed over you. Of course his girlfriend would have his number.

"You do have his private number, don't you?" she continued, her smile unwavering.

Now you felt like a complete idiot. The girl was obviously too tired to make fun of you, but the stares and whispered giggles of the posh idiots behind your back were not nice.

“Sure I do," you blurted out. "Just still couldn't reach him for some reason and it’s pretty urgent. Anyway, just let Raul know I stopped by. My name is Anya. Anya Berger."

"Of course," she replied in that 'not-a-chance' tone. "Have a nice day, Mrs Berger."

You retreated with your dignity in tatters and headed for the exit. What on earth possessed you to come here? You could have just as easily gone to the Microsoft headquarters and said you brought Bill Gates some home-made pancakes, and by the way, where was he?

Fuck.

As you made your way out, you heard the young man with framed glasses murmur to his coworker, "Such bullshit." You couldn't help but eavesdrop. "I've seen the birds Raul brings to the parties and they are top-notch. Not some..."

You stopped in your tracks. Normally, you were not the scandalous type (you were a people pleaser, if anything), but if the world wanted to treat you like a doormat, you would at least bark back. 

“Not some what?”, you asked before he would finish the sentence.

"Oh, my apologies, miss. I wasn't talking to you. It was just a conversation with my colleague," he responded with a saccharine smile. All these guys sported slicked-back hairdos, boxy glasses and Patagonia vests. Your socks had more personality than these fucks.

“You were talking about me, you Patrick Bateman knock-off. So, what did you want to say?”

His faux-polite smile vanished in an instant.

"Wow, okay”, the guy sneered. “What did I want to say? In a completely unrelated conversation, I wanted to say that giving a drunk blowjob on a Tuesday night doesn't make someone anyone's girlfriend."

“You know what he will do with you if I ask him to?”, you said, your fists clenched.

You did realise how much of a cunt you sounded, but Raphael burned a guy’s mouth for calling him a two pump chump; surely he can burn this guy for being a jerk to you, too. 

There should be some benefit in being Devil’s special little mouse, right? 

The guy just scoffed at your threat, small drops of coffee landing on your face. His coworker looked embarrassed and quickly looked away. 

"Oh, I don't know," the guy retorted, "Why don't you call Mr. d'Avergni and ask him to fire me? Oh wait… do you really have his number?"

You couldn't come up with a clever response, so your anger gave you a bad one.

“I hope a damn bus runs you over”, you grumbled under your breath.

For a split second, you found yourself hoping that very scenario would unfold. That some rogue city bus would burst through the wall and flatten him. Once wasn’t enough; it’d reverse and do it again for good measure. 

Alas, no such luck.

The security at the door started to pay attention, but you didn't want to cause any more of a scene. 

You chose to rise above (not that you had any choice) and strutted away.

"Mr. d’Avergni is not going to call you back, nut job," the guy called after you. "He's way out of your league."

Your fingers clenched around the straps of your rucksack, knuckles white as you retreated.

The moment you left the posh building behind, you felt terrible. In an attempt to make yourself feel a little better, you grabbed a subway sandwich with some extra ham and a sugar bomb coffee from Starbucks, but it did nothing to improve your mood. You found a spot on the steps of the library and sat down to eat and brood everything over.

Let's look at the cold, hard facts. You lost your job, that's one thing. You might be pregnant with a devil's spawn that'll tear you apart on its way out, that's two. You've only saved enough money to get by, that's three. And on top of that, some yuppie jerk ridiculed you. 

That's four. On the plus side... on the plus side... 

Well, you had the best sex of your life last night (by a large, large margin). Just thinking about that orgasm made you dizzy. And that kiss. His lips. His hazel eyes. The way Raphael looked in a waistcoat with a cigar. The way he looked at you.

…yeah.

You stared into the distance, catching the outline of a Catholic cathedral out of the corner of your eye. A thought occurred to you then; Raphael had been so irked by your cross. Going to an actual church will probably make Raphael jealous of the other Big Guy with the magical powers (even though he hadn’t demonstrated them for at least some centuries) that he might actually come out and talk to you. 

You wolfed down the rest of the sandwich and got up.

The cathedral door, huge, twice your size, seemed to be closed. In the old days, you would have just walked away; it was clear you weren't welcome. But now, with all the rules and logic thrown out the window, you pushed against it and, lo and behold, it did open for you.

At first glance, the cathedral seemed devoid of life. There is something utterly captivating about an empty cathedral, as there is about all things that are not supposed to be empty. It was a beautiful church; no doubt about that. Obscenely rich, too, gold gilded altars and towering stained glass windows that painted kaleidoscopic patterns on cold marble floors. Marble statues of angels stood sentinel along the walls. Why do they always have these judgemental looks on their faces? Sinner, sinner, sinner.

I am; so fuck off. 

Far richer than any church should be, and yet the first humble wooden box that caught your eye was "DONATIONS WELCOME".

As you navigated towards the altar (a good half-minute journey across the vast nave), you discovered you weren't alone after all; an elderly pastor dozed in his throne-like chair and a choirboy leafed through sheet music by the monstrous organ pipes.

"Lord Almighty," the pastor creaked as he looked at you. "How did you get in?"

"The door?" you said, gesturing behind you.

He blinked twice.

"I was sure I had locked it. Oh, my memory. Getting old is no fun, child, I can tell you that."

The pastor was one of the types desperately trying to pass themselves off as your friend. 

"Should I go or..." you asked, not really wanting to go anywhere. 

The moment you stepped through the door of the church, you felt like you were crossing worlds again; the mundane real world was behind the door, and the world where interesting things happened was right there.

"Or no... Please stay," said the priest. "If you're here, it must be God's will. We don't turn anyone away. It's not like we've had many newcomers lately."

That might have something to do with being kid fiddlers, you thought, looking at the choirboy in the white and red outfit - fourteen, fifteen at the most - but you said nothing and came closer.

"And what brings you to the house of God, my child?" The priest's smile was warm and inviting. "Would you like to make a confession?"

No, no, absolutely not.

“Or, no”, you chuckled nervously. “No, Father, I wanted…”

(to piss off the devil by coming to the church)

“I wanted…to ask you… I wanted to ask you about the devils.”

The choir boy looked up in interest.

“I wanted…to ask you… I wanted to ask you about the devils.”

The choir boy looked up in interest.

"The devils?" the pastor asked incredulously, rubbing the dust off his glasses. "There is but one; you probably mean demons. What about them?"

"Just, ugh... Say, I am haunted by one. Ah, no, you are haunted by ghosts; possessed, then. What would be the procedure?"

You didn't really know what you were asking for. You didn't really believe that there was a step-by-step guide to getting rid of a devil in your bed, especially if you invited him, especially if you liked him very much.

The priest put his hand on his belly and laughed, the old wheezing laugh of a man with a heart condition. God, it smelt like incense in here; such a suffocating smell, as if it was meant to dull any common sense.

"My child," he said, putting a fatherly hand on your shoulder. "The Church may have its doctrines, but the idea of demons is simply a metaphor. A representation of our transgressions, our weaknesses." 

He laughed a little more and then told you very gently, carefully, as if you were mentally deficient:

"Demons are not real. They are metaphors, allegories".

Having heard all your life that the Devil is watching, the Devil is waiting, and now all of sudden he is not real, and you were pretty sure he had fucked you raw yesterday.

Very helpful, Father. You suddenly felt an urge to bring forth the Antichrist just to spite the entire Catholic Church.

The cathedral door groaned in protest as it swung open once more. You looked over your shoulder.

The man entering the cathedral was the last person who should be treading on consecrated ground.

"Then who the hell is that, Father?" you muttered under your breath.

"Oh, my dear friend!" replied the priest with the broadest of smiles. "What a joy to see you!”

Raphael's attire was nearly identical to the first time you saw him in the cafe: a three-piece suit with a subtle shift in color, now a deep navy. A bit of a dated look of a wheeler and dealer in smoke-filled rooms; something very much “Mad Men” about him. 

"Darling, you claimed not to be religious," Raphael smiled at you as he approached and gave you a light kiss on the cheek. "But look where I find you."

"Well, you're also the last person I would expect to see in a church," you replied.

"Why is that?” The priest asked. “This man has done more for the Church than any other, my dear child!"

They embraced, the priest and the businessman, like good old friends. Well, you always knew that the Church was in cahoots with the Devil, but not so literally. You shook your head at the hypocrisy of the Church, Raphael, and the way things were done in general.

"You exaggerate, Flavio," said Raphael. "Besides, it's my pleasure and duty to contribute to my community. I assume you've already met, but let me introduce you anyway - Anya, my paramour".

Raphael gestured to you. Better tell your colleagues that, you thought, since they doubted it so much. He should also find this guy in the glasses, introduce you to him and then fire him immediately (and have him run over by a bus while he was on his way to collect his things). In fact, that was now your main requirement for staying his little mouse. 

"Blessed be, I'm ecstatic for you both," the priest gushed, barely containing his excitement. "Praise the Lord that you are finally doing better, Raul. It's about time..."

Raphael gave him a very cold smile and interrupted with a slight raise of his hand.

“Dimmi, hai preparato i documenti che ti ho chiesto? Il fisco sta facendo dellle indagini”.

"Haha!” the priest laughed. “La tua ragazza è venuta a chiedermi dei diavoli, forse avrei dovuto indicarle l'ufficio delle imposte".

Their conversation dove into rapid Italian, leaving you in the dust. It was rude but precisely their intention. Your attention wandered from them and across the hauntingly beautiful church interior, finally resting on the choir boy standing in the shadows.

He looked very pale. The poor guy was scared, scared shitless. His lips moved soundlessly; words stuck in his throat like swallowed stones. Tracing his petrified stare, your own eyes landed on the towering wall of the church.

The shadow Raphael was casting was not human; wings unfurled from its back and double horns crowned its head. It looked both eerie and beautiful in the soft candlelight. A part of you admired it for its artistic potential; this could be inspiration for some haunting fanart.

Wait a second.

“Do you see it too?” You mouthed silently to the choir boy who nodded frantically, sweat on his forehead.

A surge of relief washed over you - finally someone else shared your madness. But before you could reach out to him, he darted away into the ink-black abyss of the back room. Raphael's touch on your hand halted any thought of following him.

“Ah, pay him no heed,” dismissed the priest nonchalantly. “The boy’s mind is somewhat...disturbed.” He quickly clarified with an awkward laugh: “Not that we judge here – all are welcome under God's roof.”

Even the Devil himself, it seemed.

Your gaze returned to Raphael and then flickered towards the pastor; he either couldn't see or chose to ignore the monstrous shadow of his parishioner.

Or perhaps, he did see it and was merely delighted to meet his true master.

"Take all the time you need, Flavio," Raphael said, his hand dismissive as he sent the pastor scurrying. "We're in no rush."

The priest melted into the shadows of a side corridor, leaving you alone with the Devil in God's house. If Raphael nudged you back just a fraction more, your body would be flush against the cold stone altar. 

You found the idea very intriguing.

"Our little escapade last night was quite... memorable, wouldn't you agree?" His fingertips traced a path along your cheekbone. "Did you come here seeking salvation from your sins?"

"Sins? No," you replied coyly. "There are other things that trouble me... Like how I lost my job because of you."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, thumb caressing the curve of your cheek. “And how exactly did I manage such a feat?"

"Well, my company was acquired by yours and I was restructured away."

A slight frown creased his brow as he considered this. "So, you were employed by Tenebris? That is an unfortunate twist of fate." He paused before continuing, "Did you enjoy working for them?"

"Not particularly," you admitted, "but it paid my bills and kept me fed."

He smiled, his touch lingering on your skin. "And what price tag did they put on keeping you pliant?"

"Two thousand two hundred euros net”.

And sixty euros. Plus a free travel pass and a discount at a gym you never went to. Plus a yearly bonus!

This revelation seemed to snap him out of his trance-like admiration of you.

"A month?" His tone held an edge of horror and for once, it felt good to see him rattled.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. His gaze was filled with genuine sympathy. It wasn't such a terrible salary - it was above the country's average after all!

"I see," he murmured. "This explains your living situation. My dear Anya, don't let anyone under-value you; your time is worth far more than that. As for your current predicament - and I confess to having contributed to it - I will make amends."

With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plain leather wallet. You couldn't resist taking a look yourself; there was a government ID card, a driver's licence and several other cards you couldn't identify. He pulled out a sleek black credit card and handed it over.

"I'll let my banker know you're authorized," he said. “He will contact you with regards to security details”.

"No, no, that's not what I meant," you quickly interjected, pride sparking in your chest. "I can fend for myself."

"Don’t you ever say no to me," Raphael warned with a playful edge to his voice as he pulled you closer into his arms. "It won't end well."

His jesting tone didn't quite mask the threat in his words, but you couldn't help but grin. Whatever he says, the very way he says it is just so nice. 

"I'd rather have a job," you said, not sure if you were actually that eager to get back into the corporate grind.

"Then I shall arrange one for you," he grinned. "A prestigious position under a very demanding superior. It will keep you very, very occupied."

You were pretty sure that position was not what you went to college for. Then again, didn't he say yesterday that he had a job for you? 

"Consider it limitless," Raphael added nonchalantly while your fingers traced the cool metal of the credit card. "If you manage to find its limit, consider me thoroughly impressed."

Did he want you to splash out on new clothes and the like? But there were more pressing matters at hand. Your mum had just cleared her towering credit card debt and was in need of some expensive dental work. The local cat shelter was on the brink of closure and rent was due.

"I actually wanted to help my mum out a bit, if that's okay, she's, ugh"... you started, rolling the credit card in your hands. 

"Anya," Raphael interrupted sternly. "You shall have whatever you wish for.”

You nodded and looked into his eyes, remembering the pleasure of lying under him yesterday and how much you wanted to do so again. 

"About last night," you said. "Should I take the morning-after pill..."

Raphael shook his head in disbelief.

"You Catholic girls... No need for that considering our activities last night, but even if there was...I've always envisioned having a family but never found the right woman."

It's such a stupid cliché, you thought, as your stomach fluttered and you let him lean in for a kiss. 

But maybe. Just maybe. Maybe he really meant it. He had such a horrible life in hell. Maybe you were the first one…

…the actual first one, the one…

Right . You still don't want to die in childbirth, however flattering Raphael’s words might be. If you pay for Plan B with his credit card, will he see it? Nah, better use your own.

"...right," you murmured against his mouth, then remembered what else was bothering you. "And could you please tell your colleagues that we are together?".

Were you even together, you wondered in sudden fear, but Raphael nodded:

"I'll make it very much known, if that's what you wish for."

Your heart pounded in agreement. The more people knew, the more tangible it felt.

As Raphael's lips melted against yours, you glanced at his shadow on the wall and smiled; he must have thought you were looking at the confessional, for apparently the horned outline of his own shadow was not bizarre to him.

"Would you like to confess? I could absolve you of all sins" Raphael whispered in your ear, his hand slowly but surely tracing the full curve of your arse, still sore from his tail-whipping. "I am afraid you have to commit them first, though”.

He gave it a light squeeze and you yelped; he seemed to revel in the sound.

"We're in the sacred house," you blushed, squirming under his very bold advances and enjoying them very much.

"Indeed we are," Raphael concurred, his hands yanking you into the shadowy Catholic confessional, shoving you in first. The image of him cloaked in his holy robes flashed in your mind and a giggle bubbled up at the sheer audacity of it all. “What better place for blasphemy?”

The cabin was barely big enough for the two of you, dimly lit and very narrow; meant for one person only, the other chamber remained empty, separated only by a small window. The smell of old wood and incense filled your nostrils as he closed the door behind you.

The last time you went to confession, you were a teenager and the priest was so old and ugly that no dirty thoughts crossed your mind; but now you suddenly realised that there was no hotter place on earth.

Raphael's lips brushed your earlobe, his stubble against your cheek, "Kneel before me," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Show me how remorseful you are for cavorting with the Devil."

You weren’t sorry.

Not one bit. 

Without hesitation or second thoughts, just like you had before the chair yesterday, you sank to your knees in front of him. Something told you that this will become a familiar position for you in the days to come.

The moment your face was against his groin, Raphael undid his pants. His cock sprang out, large, reddish and throbbing; even better than you had imagined. You couldn't help but wrap your hands around it, almost in disbelief that this thing was so real and so eager for your mouth. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip, and you licked it off, savouring the salty and musky taste. 

Raphael gasped above you, his body tense with pure lust. Your thighs clench together in excitement and you feel the soaked panties stick to your pussy as you feel him guide your head towards his cock.

“Repent, you little sinner”, Raphael muttered, his voice thick with lust. "Plead for your redemption."

Judging by his state, he should be the one pleading.

You teased him with slow, deliberate licks, the tip of your tongue tracing his frenulum up and down (he loved it). You nuzzled your cheek against his rigid shaft, a purr of satisfaction escaping your lips as you lavished it with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Each vein was a roadmap for you to follow, every inch of his cock kissed and licked with a fervour that bordered on reverence.

"Enough," he said. "I want to see the depth of your remorse".

Your tongue slid over the top of his head and your lips followed, parting as you slowly took him into your mouth. Raphael moaned and you echoed him, your voice pulsing against his shaft, the church walls echoing the unholy litany. You sucked his cock greedily, desperately, drawing him into a warm, needy vacuum, and the harder you tried, the wetter you became. 

You wanted to give Raphael the blowjob of his millennium; you gave everything to serve him, saliva slicking down his shaft, down your chin, down your t-shirt, as every muscle in your mouth worked hard for his pleasure. The world around blurred into nothingness; all you could focus on was the dark thatch of hair framing his groin and the rhythmic motion of his cock sliding in and out of you. 

No one ever wanted to suck him off as much as you did, as deep and sloppy and messy as you did. You liked the scent of him, the taste of him, the feeling of him, the sound of him; everything about him; you’d love to suck him dry. 

“Keep going”, Raphael let out a moan of such desperate pleasure it could be pain. "Dare to stop and I promise you'll taste hellfire."

As if you had any intention of stopping; this was an act of worship you could perform for eternity.

You glanced up; he was sweated, chestnut locks clinging to his forehead, the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows across his face, and you felt more powerful than ever in your life. He tugged his necktie loose and opened the collar, his breathing coming out harsh and shallow. He was at your mercy; at the mercy of your tongue and throat.

Raphael bucked his hips, desperate to thrust in your mouth, and you let him take control; let him grab and hold your head while you simply hang in his grip, pliant and passive, as his cock jerked in and out. He went at it with such ferocity as if he hadn’t fucked for months; which you very well knew not to be true.

Gag reflex kicked in, your body threatening to revolt, and you repressed it with all the will you had, tears gathering in your eyes, and with each move of his hips it became more and more challenging. Thankfully, his bucking became more desperate; your mouth clamped down harder around his cock, and you let your tongue run up and down his shaft. 

You felt hot jets of liquid gush against your throat as Raphael cried out, his body shivered and he leaned forward as he came, and you felt stupid happy. A larger bit of his cum dribbled straight down your throat, the rest pooled in your mouth around his cock. 

“Swallow”, Raphael said, his voice deeper, rougher now. "Take all of me."

He was not going to pull out, not until every drop of him was inside you, so you made two very deliberate gulps, rolling the slight bitterness of his release on your tongue before you swallowed it all down.

Then you looked up at him like a starving animal - hungry for more. Your fingers carefully gathered the stray droplets of his cum and you greedily licked them off. As a final gesture, you kissed the tip of his cock, to which he cursed under his breath; something in Italian; whichever it was, it sounded hot. 

You grinned, licking your lips, so proud of yourself.

"You are divine," Raphael said as he pulled you up by your hair, pressing you hard against the confessional wall before claiming your lips in a rough kiss – tasting himself on them. "Divine. You are a treasure. I cannot believe my own luck. I cannot believe…”

In that moment, if he had told you he loved you, you would have believed him without hesitation.These very words were on the tip of your tongue but you chose to channel it all into the kiss.

The priest's footsteps echoed through the church, amplified by the silence.

"Li ho presi," he happily announced. 

Raphael hastily adjusted his clothing, looking genuinely embarrassed for a brief moment. The two of you stumbled out of the confessional, not exactly gracefully. 

From the pastor's expression, you could tell he understood what had happened between you and Raphael in the confessional. Your faces were flushed and your hair was disheveled from his hands tugging and pulling on it. Your damp chin, which you hastily wiped with your sleeve, only made things more obvious.

“...Raul," Flavio chided with a tone heavy with disapproval. "I still hope to wed you in this very church, but you're making it exceedingly difficult."

His eyes didn’t even glance at you; apparently, any attempt at salvation or reprimand was wasted on you now.

"I donate millions to this church,” Raphael retorted dismissively, dusting off imaginary lint from his shoulders. "If you want others to overlook certain things, you should be prepared to do the same."

The Father raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he handed over some documents to Raphael.

With that, the audience was over.

The angel statues glared down at you with undisguised contempt; particularly the one clutching a sword. That’s exactly why people turn to devils, you judgemental winged pricks on high horses, you thought. You rolled the aftertaste of devil's cum on your tongue and thought that going to heaven was definitely not in your near future.

Exiting the church, you were met by two armed men standing guard at the doors. For a moment, you thought you were being apprehended for lewd conduct in public. Raphael's security, you realized.. Of course he had security. Both looked like dark, looming, emotionless twin shadows. What were they really? Cambions? Orthons? Surely no one could truly harm him?

You clutched closer to Raphael, his lips brushing your forehead as he attended another phone call.

“Mamma mia,” he blurted out mere moments after he picked up, and a chuckle escaped you at how stereotypically Italian he sounded. You hadn't realized that was an actual phrase they used. His furrowed brows and concerned tone quickly sobered up the mood though, "What happened? Where? Was it on Main Street?"

He looked genuinely troubled and you offered silent comfort by intertwining your fingers with his. He responded with a reassuring squeeze.

“One of my juniors got into a...”, he told you as soon as he had hung up. “Into some macabre road accident”.

Hit by a bus, you realized with a jolt but kept your silence.

You had to witness it yourself.

Without a word, you followed Raphael to the crash scene, the wailing sirens of fire trucks and ambulances echoing in your ears. Security trailed along behind, all of you making your way through the gathering crowd.

The sight that greeted you was both mundane and horrifying, in a way that only real life could be. The bus stood askew, its once deep blue body now painted with crimson streaks. And there, on the cold pavement, was...splattered…what was left of a person. 

"I don't know what happened," an older Asian man sobbed nearby, his words falling on deaf ears. "I swear I've been driving this thing for twenty years, I swear I was not drunk..."

The policewoman stood tall and stern above him, her arms crossed in a way that made it clear she had already formed her judgement. Some other kind soul actually offered him an anti-shock blanket. Some less kind souls were taking pictures of their phones. News reports were arriving, too.

This poor man probably had a family to support. What would happen to him now?

You could handle all the exaggerated violence and gore on television, but you absolutely could not watch the man sprawled out on the pavement in real life; or at least what was left of him. It reminded you of the cherry pudding from the evening before. You could see his broken glasses scattered haphazardly on the ground and tears welled up in your eyes. 

He was a jerk, sure, but he was also mortal, like you. Now he lay dead, wrapped in plastic sheets, and it could have easily been you.

Where was he now? Did Raphael claim his soul? 

Did you cause his death?

You didn't mean for it to happen. Well, maybe you did, but...

“Don’t look, piccola,” Raphael murmured in your ear, his hand shielding your eyes. “You fainted over a cherry pudding once; this is by far worse. Damn it! My youngest and most promising. Just twenty-seven years old and newly engaged. An absolute tragedy.”

The same age as you.

"I'm sorry... he was so rude to me," you choked out between sobs. "I didn't think..."

“Anya, please, it's none of your fault,” Raphael’s voice softened. “Just the cruelty of fate; an accident. We cannot be held responsible for such misfortunes”.

“No?”, you asked with a faint hope.

You were not a bad person, even if you were fucking the devil; in fact, you were going to splurge his credit card on all the animal shelters and children battling cancer to make up for what you had just did. You were not a bad person.

You were not a murderer, no, no, no.

“No,” he repeated and then a slight smile, completely inappropriate to the moment, touched his lips. “Except when very much are responsible; unless we made it happen.”

Raphael’s words made you flinch slightly but he maintained his hold on you.

Yeah, well, you did that, you wanted to say, I did nothing, I only wished for it.

“The driver must have been under the influence,” he continued . “I cannot conceive any other reason for running over a pedestrian at a red light.”

You breathed out. The air was thick with the smell of gasoline, burned rubber and the scent of blood; metallic smell of death.

“Oh, you look rattled, poor thing, look at those tears”, he cooed and offered you a handkerchief with his initials on it. “Anya, love, my apologies, but I have to attend to this immediately. There’s going to be press, rumors that we work people to death that’s why he was not looking around. I need to be there for my company”.

For the company?

“…And for his family, of course”, Raphael added as if reading your thoughts. “That’s his fiance over there, I suppose. Oh, take her away, you morons…”

There she was, the woman in a suit, wailing like a banshee, as somebody tried to hold her close and hug her. What she had seen just now she would never, ever forget. 

Raphael held both your shoulders and rotated you to face him.

“You.. you know what? Go shopping, distract yourself a bit. Then call my driver to take you to my place. We'll spend the evening together”.

His words were met with a hollow nod from your side. You cast another side glance at the accident, and he  gently turned your face towards him again.

"And learn when to look away," Raphael murmured, punctuating his advice with a soft kiss on your lips, "It's an essential survival skill."

[couldawouldashoulda50]

From Completely Different Worlds - William Nylander

Previous parts 1 2 3 In continuation of @misshoneyimhome's birthday celebration, here is Part 4 of The Sweden Chapter.

A/N - I found out I am very much a "discovery writer" in that basically, more and more ideas pop into my little head as I go. What I do know is that this is not the end, and there will be a Part 5. I had some interactions with a couple of readers that William needs to feel a little more "uneasy" (jealous) because Loren does indeed have other options. So, I tried to take a more nuanced approach in this part and then we'll see a little more of that in the next part. Poor William. *edit - to the anon that sent in ask re: outfits for Loren, it is covered in the next part.

Like the last part, this is 11k words - but I hope it's an easy read that it doesn't feel like it's long and drawn out.

Notes and Warnings - goes without saying - profanity, smut (basic p in v, oral - m & f receiving). I think that's it.

18+ only please.

The second Loren stepped onto the street outside of William's place, she felt a palpable energy that surrounded her and filled her senses. If she was totally uninhibited, there was no telling what Loren would do to expel that electric feeling. She literally felt like she could defy the laws of gravity and float to wherever William was taking her.

As he was back in Toronto, William made for an excellent tour guide in Stockholm. He was enamored with his city and it wasn't hard to understand why. In many ways, William embodied the best of what the Scandinavian metropolis had to offer. Stockholm was dazzling and vibrant. Calm one minute and lively the next. A rich and deep history mixed with a contemporary urban flair.

Loren was overwhelmed. She had longed to travel for many years but never had the time or the funds to make it happen. After facing near financial ruin once her ex was long gone, Loren started a Pinterest board of mainly sunny beach destinations as inspiration to save money. Places that she felt she would enjoy traveling to alone. Although Loren had many friends, after a number of years, her former travel partners had paired off, gotten married, and started families. She had embraced being alone, so the idea of vacationing alone as well seemed to suit her perfectly.

Now, Stockholm was kicking her little Pinterest board's ass.

If she thought nothing could outdo the scenery, she was sorely mistaken after she took her first bite at breakfast. The food was extraordinary and it appeared as though William had ordered literally the entire menu. Everything was fresh and healthy, with every color in all the food groups accounted for many times over.

The only thing more astounding than the food itself was how much William could pack away. Loren giggled as William leaned back, legs splayed, and rubbed his stomach that was looking less taut and more round than usual.

As they talked about the plan for the remainder of the day, the owner, who obviously knew William fairly well, approached their booth. William and Anton spoke animatedly in Swedish before William turned to Loren to introduce her. Anton asked how she liked the food and if William left anything for her. She teased that she had to arm-wrestle William for a bite here and there - she of course followed up by saying the whole meal was phenomenal. Promising to make her something special if she returned, Anton bowed to Loren and mockingly rubbed his abdomen to tease William before leaving to greet other patrons.

"You going to be okay to stand, or am I gonna have to carry you out?" Loren smirked.

"Ugh—I'm too full… carry me please…"

Loren shook her head and smiled. "You're such a charmer… wait—we need the bill, don't we?"

"No, everything's free in Stockholm," William chuckled. "Don't worry about it."

Loren flashed a warning glance towards him. "What about the tip?"

William leaned in closer to Loren. "Mmmm—say that again… about the tip…"

Loren raised her eyebrow and smiled coyly. "Something something… big tip—something…"

Despite the urge to kiss her, William tended to avoid public displays of affection. In the age of cell phones and trying to protect privacy, he had to. William settled for a quick but intense eye fuck with Loren instead as they strolled out the door.

William's itinerary for Loren's first full day was mostly relaxed. Nothing was on a specific timeframe and was as chill and easygoing as William himself.

Walking off the mammoth breakfast William just indulged in, they took their time, meandering along the sidewalk as William talked about the subtle and not-so-subtle cultural differences between Sweden and North America. He laughed when Loren admitted that she had long held the idea that all of Scandinavia had learned how to live life right versus the other countries to the south.

With an open invitation to come for the afternoon at the family lake house, William and Loren piled into his SUV for the 40-plus minute drive to pick up his beloved dogs and relax in the sun by the water.

As they drove, William wasn't sure if he had ever seen someone so enthralled by everything. He didn't think Loren was sheltered or hadn't seen a thing or two, but her natural curiosity was so endearing to him. Every highway sign she saw, Loren would take a picture of it, try to say the name phonetically, and then William would help her if needed. That's how the whole drive was spent—listening to and correcting Loren's pronunciation while Post Malone and The Weeknd played in the background.

As they pulled into the laneway at the Nylander’s, William almost wished the drive was longer. Loren managed to make the routine drive to the lake so entertaining in the most basic of ways. Where William was already in a fantastic mood, she managed to elevate it even further.

William had barely stepped out of the car when the dogs came barreling up to him, promptly swarming Loren right after. Camilla waved from the porch, greeting Loren with a hug before embracing her son.

As it approached 1:00 PM, the combination of the massive breakfast and the drive to the lake had completely sapped William's energy. Suddenly, he could barely keep his eyes open.

Camilla looked at William and chuckled at his wilting appearance. "Poor boy… did you both want to have a nap?"

"I'm a little too excited about being here still—but William, did you want to go ahead?"

William nodded and yawned, calling for the dogs. Standing behind Loren, he placed his hands on her shoulders, pulled her back a smidge, and gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Camilla's eyes sparkled as she looked at Loren. "Here darling, you and I can sit outside at the back… I'm so happy you can keep me company."

William shuffled away but called back towards his mom. "Where's Dad?"

"We just found there's an issue with the water pressure, so he's down there looking at the water line."

"Oh—shit, that sucks," William commented mid-yawn as he entered his bedroom. "Ok boys, let's go…."

Camilla ushered Loren into the kitchen. "Would you like a glass of wine? I have a bottle of chardonnay that I was just about to open."

"If you're having a glass, I'd love one, thank you."

Camilla and Loren chatted as two glasses were poured half-full. Camilla clinked Loren's glass and said "Skål," and Loren reciprocated with a cheery smile.

The ladies settled into a comfortable spot on the west-facing deck. The day had been warm, but a cool, generous breeze from the north was an indicator that autumn would soon be upon them.

As it had been from the point Camilla and Loren first met, their conversation flowed so easily. It was very much like Loren experienced with William—there was a steady flow of thoughts, ideas, memories, commiserations, and everything else in between.

Camilla first asked about their day and laughed at Loren explaining about the owner of the cafe poking fun at William. Then Loren explained about taking pictures of road signs to learn about certain letter combinations in Swedish and the sounds they make. Camilla was impressed that Loren showed so much interest in learning the language and thought Loren's idea was brilliant.

They talked about family dynamics, Loren's job as a support worker, and her other work as well. Camilla asked about Loren's house, to which she showed Camilla some before and after pictures of her interior painting marathon. William's mother was once again very impressed with the interior, but it was Loren's gardens and planters that really wowed Camilla. Soon the two were wandering around the edges of the deck talking about perennials that would do well in afternoon sun.

Loren looked up and smiled as she saw Michael approach. He embraced Loren and then kissed Camilla on the cheek while a slightly exasperated expression appeared on his face.

"I think it's the foot valve—it's either clogged or damaged or both," Michael said.

Camilla looked at Michael with an air of concern. "So someone… I guess it will need to be you—you'll have to go underwater and try to untie the line to get a better look… oh Michael… that's not good…"

Loren listened to William's parents' exchange—the sum total of it was that neither Camilla nor Michael particularly wanted to wade out in water that had never felt warm all summer and was becoming excessively colder as the days wore on.

Loren had a lot of experience in this department. Having spent many a summer at her family's cottage that was shared across her father's side, Loren and her cousins were expected to help out when repairs of anything were required. It's where she learned every swear word in both English and French, and quietly practiced them to herself from about the age of three. That was among her first memories. Whether it was a snowmobile or boat engine roaring, if her tiny voice could be drowned out by a long loud sound, Loren happily rhymed off shit, fuck, asshole, prick, dick, cunt —and any combination thereof. It was her little secret with herself.

“If you'd like - I would love to help - I have my bathing suit here as well….just to even get a look at the valve itself and see what’s happening with it?”

Camilla ‘tsked appreciatively with Loren’s offer. “Oh Loren - no, we can’t have you doing that… you’re William’s guest - but thank you though. Plus, the water is very, very cold…”

“Our cottage lake never quite warms up either…I’m honestly used to it, and I kind of love doing stuff like this. I promise though - I won’t press, but I would honestly love to help.”

Michael smiled at Loren, visibly impressed. He wasn’t sure if any of his six children would offer to help, no offense to them. Michael looked toward Camilla and then the house. “Well my love, we need water….let’s just see what’s happening first and then we’ll figure out what to do.” He turned to Loren and asked if she was sure she wanted to get in the frigid lake.

“I’ve been actually dying to get in there - I’ll go get changed. Would you have a snorkel mask so maybe I can take a look at it underwater?”

Michael’s expression was a mix of surprise and growing admiration. “Yes, absolutely…just come down to the boat house once you’ve changed and we’ll size it up for you.”

Camilla looked back toward Loren with an air of gratitude. “Loren - you’re sure about this? We have some bottled water to get us through…”

Loren smiled and convinced Camilla that she was more than okay with doing this. Camilla gave her a quick hug and said she would get her a towel and they’d walk down together.

In the tote bag that Loren still brought everywhere with her, she fished out her two piece green bathing suit and tip toed down the hall, past William’s bedroom and straight into the bathroom next door. She didn’t want to risk waking William up by changing in his room.

Once changed, she tip toed back but Banksy caught sight of her and leapt off the bed to join Loren, followed by the family’s black toy poodle. With the pups in tow, Loren slipped out the sliding glass doors and rejoined Camilla on the deck.

As they walked towards the boathouse, Camilla seemed trepidatious about Loren venturing into the water but reminded herself that Loren was a grown woman. If she was able to help, even just a little bit, it would be deeply appreciated.

With the snorkel mask adjusted and sitting perched atop her head, Loren waded into the water. They weren't exaggerating - it was fucking freezing. She gasped as the chill enveloped her hips, waist, and then chest. Michael and Camilla stood by wincing, knowing the temperature under the surface was uncomfortably cold.

Michael called out to Loren. "Pretty chilly, isn't it? Are you doing okay?"

Loren's teeth were gnashed together as she turned towards William's parents. "Ummm… I think I'm either numb or getting used to it… not sure," she chuckled.

"If it gets to be too much, please come out… we can deal with it another way," Camilla called to her.

Michael leaned towards Camilla and said in Swedish, "My sweet, this is the only way—let's hope she only has to go in once."

Loren spit in the mask, rubbed it over the interior of the glass, and then rinsed it off in the water as Camilla, Michael, and the dogs watched in anticipation. She positioned and adjusted the mask so it formed a seal protecting her eyes and nose.

She submerged herself and swam under the surface to take a look at what had happened to the water line to affect the pressure.

Meanwhile, back inside, William woke up to Pablo whining at the sliding doors in the main room. He got out of bed, rubbed his eyes, and padded slowly towards Pablo, who was wagging his tail excitedly at the door.

After he let Pablo out, he saw his golden doodle join the group of onlookers standing on the walkway towards the floating dock. He was thoroughly confused and still groggy after not getting a full two-hour nap, which was oftentimes, his minimum requirement.

The air was more chilled than what he remembered it being when they first arrived, so William grabbed a nearby hoodie and started walking down towards the water.

As he approached the walkway, he remained totally baffled as he watched his parents watching Loren as her head popped up above the surface, and then her diving back under after reporting her findings.

Camilla looked over to see William's perplexed expression. She smiled at him as she stood with her arms crossed watching Loren tread water while still peering under the surface.

"What is she doing? Dad—it's freezing… why is she in there?"

Michael simply said, "She's a big help. She offered to see what's going on with the foot valve since we lost water pressure in the house."

William shook his head. "She offered? God—she's nuts…."

Michael chuckled. "This really is a big help… I sure didn't want to have to do it. She says the rope the water line was tied to came undone and the valve was at the bottom sucking in sand."

William watched as Loren dove underneath the water again, her round ass making a split-second appearance before she propelled herself toward the bottom of the lake.

As she resurfaced, she spotted William and smiled as best she could, given the mask gave her duck lips.

She peeled off the mask, which left a prominent red line where the rubber had adhered to her face. "Don't you dare make fun of me…," Loren teasingly warned William.

"Is it cold in there?" he asked sheepishly, knowing full well that it was.

"I'm tough… I've gotten used to it." That might have been true, but Loren was starting to feel the chill in her bones.

Loren asked Michael if he had a 5-gallon bucket, a drill, and some duct tape. He had all three readily accessible, and he and Camilla hurried off to retrieve the items, leaving William with the dogs watching Loren.

"Can I help with something?" William called to her.

Loren waded over to the walkway near where William was standing. The wind had picked up and had a little more of a northerly bite to it. She tried not to shiver, but her teeth chattered involuntarily with the exposure to the outside air.

William knelt down to greet her with a kiss. When he pressed his lips against hers, he recoiled quickly. "Loren—you're freezing—you gotta get out of there…"

"The air's way cooler than the water, but yeah, it's getting a little chilly," Loren said as her body shuddered. "We're going to need some rocks to put into the bottom of the pail. Something like those ones over there."

William jogged over to the other side of the ramp and grabbed a medium-sized rock, holding it up for Loren to approve. She smiled and nodded, then swam back over to the water line.

Michael had a sense of what Loren had in mind and he wished he had thought of it sooner. He drilled an entry and exit point into the top of the bucket, and he and Loren fished the line through the bucket, holding it in place with duct tape. Then the stones William gathered were added to the bucket, which was then submerged a number of feet offshore. It was simple to make, easy to put in place, and flawlessly effective once the water line spat out the trapped air and sand with the newly elevated pressure.

Once Loren emerged from the lake, Camilla was quick to wrap a thick bath sheet around her as they walked back to the main cottage. Loren was shivering uncontrollably but tried to get everyone to stop fussing over her. Loren kept saying she was fine, she just needed to warm up a little.

Michael suggested that she head to the sauna to really warm herself up after initially thawing her body in a warm shower. To Loren, that sounded heavenly.

William got the outdoor shower going for her. The Nylanders had an amazing wellness setup not far from the water—an outdoor shower, which William proudly reminded Loren was only working because of her, a 10-person hot tub, a cold tub, and then a beautiful cedar Swedish sauna.

Loren had already showered that morning, but the purpose now was not for cleanliness. Her teeth wouldn't stop chattering and her body still shivered uncontrollably. She was cautious and remained modestly in her bathing suit in the shower, until William reappeared with a thick robe for her to put on after the sauna. He added that his parents had gone into town to grab a few things so they'd be alone for a little while. He motioned to her bathing suit and said, "That needs to come off too," before he headed into the quaint wood sauna.

Loren stripped off her bathing suit, wrung out the excess water, and laid it over the edge of the enclosure to dry. Turning off the water, she twisted her long hair, watching it drip from the ends, wrapped a towel around her, and slowly opened the door to the sauna.

William was naked—his back reclined against the upper bench, his head tilted back and eyes closed, and legs parted. Loren's gaze immediately fixed on his flaccid penis. As always, the sight made her mouth water and her throat tighten. She felt an involuntary clench deep within her, knowing how well his cock fills her up when it's awake.

The dry heat was one half of the perfect antidote to help chase the lingering chill she felt from the water. The other half of that antidote was William. Still beautifully tanned, the defined ridges in his shoulders, arms, chest, and quads glistened with sweat under the soft lights.

William raised his head slightly, opened one eye to look at Loren. "You need to be all the way nude… lose the towel," he smirked.

Loren knew she had two choices—either defy William and keep the towel on, or hang it up next to the robe he brought and try to look sexy and not trip or stumble.

She unfastened the towel where she had it tucked in between the valley of her breasts. Right before the towel dropped, she held onto one corner and pinned it against her chest so that she was still a little concealed.

William chuckled at her. "You're not still shy about me seeing you naked, are you?"

Despite William's appreciation for confidence in a woman, there was something about Loren's bashful and humble nature that he found intensely arousing.

Managing to avoid slipping or tripping or doing a faceplant of any kind, Loren quickly draped the towel over the slats of the upper wooden bench just behind William, and sat elegantly with her legs crossed. In response to his question about her still feeling shy, Loren jokingly retorted, "Have we met?"

He turned his head to look up at Loren. "What're you doing all the way up there? You don't want to sit beside me?" He reached back with the arm closest to Loren and began to caress the back of her calf. A dainty gold anklet glimmered on her slender ankle.

"I like the view from here," Loren remarked softly and suggestively.

William continued to stroke the skin along the back of her leg. In the gravelly voice that's like music to her, he purred, "Why look when you can touch…"

Loren chuckled and reclined her head back against the cedar wall, trying to think of a good response. "Because sometimes the most gorgeous things in the world should be left undisturbed."

William's throat tightened with desire from her words.

He stood and ladled more water over the scalding rocks before turning back towards Loren. He knelt in front of her, motioning for her legs to open so he could slide in between them.

The heat from the sauna had only elicited a light layer of sweat over both bodies, but the temperature inside was climbing rapidly as they began kissing. Loren slid forward slightly, her lips and tongue coaxing moans from William's mouth. She wrapped her arms around the base of his neck as William gripped her ass hard, pulling her further towards him, even though there wasn't a millimeter between them. He nipped and kissed under her jawline, and when Loren's hands found their way down to his ass cheeks, she pushed his torso tight against her cunt.

Breathless, William slowed his mouth and his hands and leaned his forehead against Loren's neck.

Her hands and fingers smoothed through his hair as she wondered what was going through his mind. Instead, she reveled in his touch as his open palms roamed over her body.

William spoke in a low tone against her collarbone. "I don't want you to ever think that I—just because I don't say the actual words most of the time… I'm not the greatest with that—that I don't think that you are one of the most incredible people I know, Loren."

Loren kissed William's temple as her other hand smoothed up the nape of his neck through the back of his hair. She began to speak, but William interrupted her.

"Don't turn the compliment on to me," William warned playfully. "We're only talking about you."

He tapped her ass for her to raise her bum off the towel. He released his embrace and stood up, draping the towel over the bench he was kneeling on.

William guided her down onto her back, adjusted her rear slightly, and lowered his mouth down to her pussy. Fuck, she felt lucky—this was the second time William went down on her today—it was the reason their shower that morning took as long as it did.

But this version of William in that moment was not the version she experienced this morning. This morning, he was tender as his tongue stroked her clit, while the scruff around his mouth tickled her pussy in the most arousing way.

The William taking her now was far more needy. Within seconds of his mouth latching onto Loren's pussy, he had her thighs pinned, spreading her as wide as possible. His tongue lapped fervently, finding the most sensitive areas around her clit, making Loren's body twist and jolt as she moaned William's name. She realized, too, that they were alone and in a sauna. She didn't have to suppress cries or stifle moans this time.

Loren looked down to see William jerking himself as he tongue-fucked her. She smoothed back his hair, their gazes fixed on each other, before she cried out, arching her back and splaying her one leg to the side. Her cries and moans only fueled William to further intensify his dizzying oral assault on her pussy.

She glanced at him and then at the taut muscles in his arm as he rapidly pumped his cock. She knew that he wanted to fully serve her the best oral pleasure he could, but it became distracting with how much she wanted his cock in her mouth.

Between cries of how amazing he felt, Loren breathlessly asked if she could suck his cock.

She lay panting on the bench, smoothing William's saliva around her pussy while running her fingers up and down her slit. William moved and stood by her, his erect cock in her direct line of sight. Using the upper bench as leverage, William held himself up as he rested one thigh on the bench at the top of Loren's head. She could hardly wait for William to position himself just right. Within seconds, she licked and fondled his balls before putting them in her mouth. William groaned "Fuck, Loren" as she stroked his cock with one hand, slowly rubbed her clit with the other, and lapped at his balls at the same time.

William's hand slid over top of Loren's, taking control of running his middle finger through her folds. Between his saliva and her arousal, his fingers smoothly glided between her inner pussy walls, making Loren's hips rotate from the sensation. She adjusted her body to lie on her side and proceeded to deep throat William's cock, moaning and slurping as he expelled his tasty pre-cum in the back of her mouth.

William looked down at Loren just as she looked up at him as she slid his shaft from her mouth. Strings of saliva stretched from his tip—he nearly went weak in the knees as she gazed upon him and his cock like a gift from God. She gingerly held his member as her tongue found the highly sensitive frenulum.

He gathered up her hair in his fist and slowly moved his cock back and forth in her mouth as her tongue stroked underneath the tip, expressing more of the pre-cum fluids that she couldn't get enough of.

But William had other plans. Loren loved being railed hard, and he was determined to fulfill all of her desires in that moment.

"Loren—fuck… you're gonna make me cum… let me fuck you from behind… and be loud—you can let it all out…"

As beautiful as can be, she licked and kissed the tip of his cock in a show of worship and flashed the most spellbinding smile at William as she stood up and turned around for him.

His arms wrapped around her waist as her back leaned against his chest. They stood for a moment in that spot, just absorbing each other's touch. Soon, one of William's hands was cupping her breast while the other slid between her thighs.

Loren climbed onto the bench, and with William kneeling behind her, he gently bent her over. Loren lowered her upper body further, and with her ass in the air, she spread her legs and stroked her clit in anticipation of William's entry.

"Loren—fuck me—you have no idea how fucking hot you look right now." Biting her bottom lip, Loren glanced over her shoulder towards William. "So do you…" she said, full of desire, as her long hair, still damp from the shower, cascaded over the side of her body.

William kneaded the top of her ass cheek with one hand and held his cock in his other, gliding his tip through Loren's folds. Soon, he entered her. William's cock had a slight curve upward, and the tip rubbed perfectly against Loren's g-spot as he fucked her. Her hands gripped the wooden slats on the bench as William's thrusts became steadily deeper.

His head fell backward and his eyes closed as images of her in the water working alongside his dad filled his mind. He could not recall ever feeling such intense pride towards a girl he brought home before.

The pride—this sensation he felt in that moment—fueled his thrusts as he gripped Loren's hips, plowing her even harder. William gazed at how incredible she looked from behind as she cried out to him and how good his cock felt. Her voice, the sound of their slick skin slapping, watching her stroke herself as he bucked into her—to William, there was no better feeling than in that moment.

Loren hollered a string of profanities as her legs began to shake as she orgasmed. William slid one hand up to her shoulder and kept the other gripping her hip. Loren pushed back into him, allowing him to go just a smidge deeper when she let out a loud guttural shriek as a final climax, while reaching behind her, grappling for William's ass.

William pressed into Loren's cunt further, letting out his own feral grunts. William felt like he was losing his mind a little as his thrusts went into overdrive. Loren was riding the wave of another orgasm, gripping the underside of the bench, her ass and thighs rippling as he drove into her. Soon, William let out groans from deep in his throat, his own legs quaking as he spilled deep into her.

William stayed in position, smoothing the sheen of her back around with his hands. He watched her breathing slow while she moaned incoherent words into her forearm. He slid out of her slowly, his seed slowly seeping out just after his tip exited.

He always reveled at the sight of Loren after she came. She once explained she can hear him speak, but she's suspended in such a deep state of euphoria, she hardly has the will to make any part of her body move. It's almost like a complete separation of mind and body.

William loved knowing that's what he does to her.

The two had been in the sauna for a little longer than one probably should. Once Loren could move again, she gathered her towel, slipped on her robe, and stepped back out into the fresh afternoon air. William remained close behind her, stopping only for a quick dip in the cold tub. Not wanting to advertise the inevitable shrinkage from the cold water, William giggled as he sheepishly asked if Loren could retrieve his shorts before he stood up.

With hours remaining before their dinner plans later that evening, Loren and William settled in on the couch, wrapped around each other as each dog found a spot—Banksy on top of Loren's hip and Pablo nestled between William's legs. They had Tetris'ed themselves snugly together as the four drifted off for a nap.

Just over an hour later, Michael and Camilla returned—the dogs' alert startled William and Loren awake, the two stretching and giving each other a soft kiss before rising from the couch.

As they helped carry in bags from the car, Michael asked if they could stay for dinner. Michael remained so abundantly grateful for Loren's help that day that he felt it was the least he could do.

William smiled at his dad's hopeful expression but before he could decline, Michael quickly remembered they had plans already.

William added, "Maybe in a few days, okay? We can figure out something with whoever's available—"

"I'd like to do something maybe just for the two of you, does that sound alright?" Michael looked towards Loren this time for a response.

"I would love that—I've heard that you're a pretty amazing chef," Loren said warmly as Michael hugged her. "We can bring some wine as well?"

Camilla's eyes danced as she looked at Loren. "You could even stay the night—give us a chance to have some drinks and get to know you more."

Camilla thanked Loren again for all of her help, hugging her tightly.

As they walked out, Michael asked if they used the sauna. The question was directed more towards Loren but William answered "Yes" instead.

Michael smiled. "And—how was it—did it warm you up—relax you?"

Loren blushed as she remembered "relaxing" after her massive climax.

William coolly replied, "It was hot, Dad… and yeah, it was extra relaxing... I think Loren enjoyed it. I know I did."

Cheeky motherfucker… Loren thought as she glanced at William and then at Michael.

Michael read between the lines with William's comment and just laughed and shook his head.

—

Loren was the first one ready for their dinner plans that evening. She was borderline nervous—meeting a handful of William's closest friends is right up there with meeting his family. Even though the Nylanders were warm and welcoming, Isla's scornful gaze during Loren's introduction was undeniably still etched in her memory.

Loren fidgeted with her red sundress as she looked at her reflection in the long mirror in William's bedroom. She was beginning to second-guess and scrutinize her appearance. Her clothes, her shoes—everything—were mainly mass-produced with low-cost materials. She saw how stylish the Nylanders all were; even without trying, they all could easily grace the cover of Vogue.

It was more likely than not that his friends and their girlfriends were equally as stylish and sophisticated, and with that thought, Loren exhaled sharply and dropped her shoulders in frustration and dismay. Her insecurities once again resurfaced, attempting to convince her that his friends would laugh at her discount clothes and shoes—that her hair was too big, wavy, and messy-looking. That she really had no business being there as William's guest.

Loren decided to take a picture and send it to Chelsea, her friend and style guru, hoping she could either say "yay" to the dress or veto it and tell her to change.

Just as Loren took the picture, William walked in fresh from the shower—a towel barely tucked tight enough to stay put around his hips. Loren's eyes trailed to the contour on either side of his torso—"the v"—that acted like a sign pointing straight to his cock. His dark blonde hair flopped in certain spots and stuck straight out in others. To Loren, he looked freakishly perfect every single solitary second of every day, and in that moment, she was horny for him and frustrated with him at the same time.

A sizeable grin spanned his face as his eyes landed on Loren. Instead of reciprocating with her typical sweet smile, she rolled her eyes and scoffed at William.

"You know, William—it's not fucking fair," Loren half-smiled as she slowly shook her head. "Like—c'mon… you walk in with almost nothing on, your hair is perfectly imperfect—you know what? You're so greedy…"

William started to laugh. "Greedy?"

"Yes… really fucking greedy. Your whole family—you all got greedy in the gene pool and didn't leave nearly enough for the rest of us."

William's iconic laugh reverberated in the room. "Wait—hold on… that's a bunch of bullshit… you need to put your glasses on there, Chiquita…"

William sat on the edge of his bed, his legs automatically splayed as he propped himself up on his elbows. He chuckled again when he saw Loren's eyes fall once again to the bump his cock made under the towel. "I don't get it—where's—what's all of this about?"

On top of everything else she was feeling in that moment, she was the most embarrassed about her insecurities. She didn't feel like this all the time, but like mice running rampant, where there's one negative thought, a hundred more seem to follow.

So, she was honest with him.

"First, I'm just second-guessing my outfit—well, my entire appearance really. Second, I really hate showing how insecure I can be sometimes. It's not all day, all the time or anything, but I know it's not the most attractive quality to have... especially around you."

William often struggled to find the right words, but he never saw Loren as insecure. Vulnerable at times, yes, which brought out his protective instincts and kindness. Unbeknownst to Loren, William sometimes felt inadequate compared to her, but he knew that if he could at least comfort and reassure her, it was a good start.

"You know—my first thought is that it's hard to understand how you're not able to just know how fucking gorgeous you are… but then I think if you did, you wouldn't be who you are—which is even more amazing. If that makes any sense?" William pulled her close, his rugged hand cradled the back of her head as he pressed his lips against her hair. He breathed in her light fragrance as he continued to kiss her head. "If you are worried that my friends aren't going to like you because of this or that—they really are not like that. They're almost as nice as you, if you can believe it," William chuckled.

His hands then smoothed down the fabric of the back of her dress, soon slipping underneath the hem. She could feel his burgeoning hard-on as the towel finally unfastened and fell to the floor.

In an instant, William's mouth was latched onto Loren's neck, pressing her up against the wall. She couldn't resist him—she really didn't even try. She turned around so her ass was aligned with his erection. She leaned over slowly and suggestively said, "Here, let me bend over and pick that up—"

Loren soon received the "input" from William that she needed to help calm her worries.

—

William's assessment of his friend group was absolutely accurate. Loren was relieved and grateful that she was instantly welcomed into William's social circle—or at least the particular one that evening. Two of the women at the table, Ingrid and Malin, were the girlfriends of Anders and Erik, who all were at the bar the previous night with William. The third was Lisa, the buoyant, beautiful, and gregarious long-time girlfriend of Rasmus Sandin, William's former roommate and teammate before being traded to Washington.

To break the ice within his friend group, William wanted Loren to share his new favorite story—the tale of her airport security detention. When she had recounted the incident to William's entire family the day before, he was still laughing about it.

As the story went, Loren was "randomly flagged" by flight security, leading to her bags being pulled, scanned, and thoroughly searched. In her large suitcase, she had packed some camera equipment—a tripod, ring light, and other items—which she intended to use for recording interviews with random people against the city's scenic backdrop. The equipment had been carefully wrapped in bubble wrap and then nestled within her clothing. All her paperwork was impeccable, detailing the who, what, where, when, why, and how of her trip. As security rifled through her belongings, they seemed particularly intrigued by the combination of camera equipment and some sexy undergarments that Loren had packed to impress William.

The officers asked the standard questions—did she pack the bag herself, had anyone else had access to her luggage, and so on. Then one officer inquired about the purpose of the videos. Loren was stressed—words in both English and French tumbled around in her head like clothes in a dryer. She blurted out that they were "instructional videos."

The two men exchanged glances, then looked at the lingerie set she'd packed for William, and finally at the camera equipment. “Miss - are the videos pornographic in nature?” The officer who remained silent seemed rather hopeful.

“No! No - they are language tutorials - like teaching how to converse in French,” Loren gasped, her cheeks blazing.

“Are you able to show us?”

Mon dieu (my God) Loren thought to herself, dying inside a little.

She pulled out her phone and showed a more recent post, with her, very much clothed and covered - and not getting railed or giving fellatio.

After only a few seconds, one officer seemed perturbed with the tame, g-rated video and waved her off saying she could go.

William was completely taken with Loren as she animatedly finished telling the story, describing how she had to gather up a lace thong and a bustier and shove them back in her suitcase before running out and meeting William’s mother, no less. Loren explained that later, when she told the full story to his family, Camilla nearly choked on her wine from laughter.

As more stories were shared, an energetic buzz filled the air around the table. The four couples seamlessly blended, their laughter and conversation flowing freely. Loren, with her adaptable nature and engaging personality, found herself quickly embraced by William's tight-knit group of friends—much as she had been with his family.

William and Erik spotted a couple of empty pool tables from where the group sat in the corner of the bar. Soon, wagers were discussed, match-ups were made and friendly-fire chirps were said.

Ingrid and Malin observed Loren closely. Contrary to Isla's portrayal from the previous night, Loren embodied everything Isla had claimed she wasn't. This discrepancy didn't surprise them; Isla's relationship with the truth was often shaky at best. The ladies held their tongues, but they were brimming with curiosity, wondering if Loren was aware of Isla's blatant hostility towards her the night before. While Ingrid and Malin typically avoided gossip, Isla's unprovoked behavior had left them stunned and eager to discuss it. They knew Lisa held strong opinions about Isla's character and were keen to hear her take, which usually swung between witty and scathing.

After the men left the table to venture over to the billiards with full pints of beer in their hands, Ingrid and Malin exchanged glances, topped up Loren's wine, and started treading carefully with the trajectory of their desired conversation.

They first asked Loren basic questions about what she and William did that day, and then worked backwards from there. Loren smiled, knowing the direction Ingrid and Malin wanted to take their chat and suppressed a chuckle. As kind and friendly as all three women had been to Loren, she remained cautious with her words—she told herself to stick with the facts, avoid any personal opinions or any other petty remarks.

It was Ingrid who just cut to the chase with the question of whether Loren heard anything about the night before. And Loren explained what she had been told—which frankly surprised and impressed all three ladies that William had been candid about the situation and did not seem to bypass any major details.

The women were also impressed by Loren's frankness, honesty, and fairness with the complexities of being the object of William's affections. Although it was unspoken, each of the ladies could see how unique Loren was when they compared her against other women that William had spent time with.

Once the Isla conversation was addressed, no one dwelled on any of it.

Malin and Ingrid got up to use the ladies' room and it seemed the two were feeling no pain as they groped their boyfriends' asses as they walked by. Erik didn't seem to mind but Anders, who was trying to take a shot, flinched and sunk the cue ball instead of the solid green one he was aiming for.

Loren and Lisa giggled as Rasmus and William turned to look at them before chirping their friend about the missed shot.

Lisa smiled back towards Loren. "So, you were saying something before about a conversation you and Willy were having… about being out in public?"

Loren nodded. "Just about whether or not we should 'appear' like we are sort of—" Loren struggled to find just the right words to describe their undefined status. "Romantically linked? I guess that's the best way to say it," Loren finally said.

Lisa had known William for a long time through Rasmus' relationship, as William had been Rasmus' roommate on and off, and one of his most trusted friends. She cared for William deeply and, although she didn't always agree with some of his tactics and tendencies, she knew he was a good person at heart. Having had a front-row seat to some of the issues from his past relationships, Lisa understood why William had become incredibly guarded with women in general.

However, Lisa sensed something different in how William and Loren interacted. Though seated diagonally from each other—in an attempt to avoid immediate “guesswork” of who’s with whom by passersby—their connection was very apparent. The way they looked at each other when the other spoke revealed an incredible connection. Lisa didn't just see it; she felt it. She had shared this observation with Rasmus, who wholeheartedly agreed.

"So, you two aren't technically dating, in the traditional sense?" Lisa asked.

Loren looked down at her hands that were folded in her lap. "Well, I think it's a little different for him—people are so invested in the labels…single versus not. So, if someone were to ask him right now, he would say he's single. So, I guess that makes me single too…but it's not how I feel. When I really like someone, that's it for me. I literally don't 'see' anyone else, if you know what I mean."

Lisa nodded. "I do—fully. I felt that way about Rasmus when I first met him."

Loren chuckled and then went quiet. "It feels like a dangerous spot for me to be in though. He has gazillions of women that, whether they're single or not, would kill… or at least maim for him. I'm not trying to compete or anything because I just can't… or maybe it's more that I won't. I wanted to go slow with getting to know each other—somehow be interested yet be relatively detached at the same time. I'm not wanting to rush either because God—his life… just his life alone is dizzying. But the interest out there for him—like, how is any girl - me, or her, her, her…" Loren giggled as she continued to point out any girl in the vicinity of their table, "going to handle that amount of enticement of ‘their man’ from other women?"

Lisa completely understood, as Rasmus, also known as "Sandy," received quite a lot of attention in his own right. "It's a decision you make. And as time goes on, you have to keep making the decision to go left or right. I mean, Sandy isn't anywhere near Willy's popularity, but I will say—he's one of William's closest friends. You would not believe how many women want to go through his friends just for a shot at William. It's… yeah… unbelievable."

Lisa looked over at Sandy, who was already looking back at her. "But I feel supported. Loved. He's good to me, a good person to others. He's my biggest cheerleader," she said wistfully as she winked at her love. Lisa chronicled her own Olympic journey to Loren and all the injuries and accidents she experienced with being an alpine skier. The two continued to bond over Lisa's fearlessness versus Loren's absolute fear of heights—mainly falling from them.

Malin and Ingrid returned from the ladies' room, but came back from a different direction from where the washrooms were. In tow, a tall, good-looking man with a tray of shots arrived.

Loren thought she recognized him, but couldn't place from where. Lisa jumped up and gave him a hug, and just as Malin started introducing Loren, the name "Emil!" was shouted from the billiard tables.

The group of men all came rushing up, causing a bit of a comical scene—given that their fourth pint had kicked in. They laughed and talked excitedly in Swedish as the women laughed along.

While Isla's harsh assertion that Loren would struggle to understand Swedish conversations was unkind, there was some truth to it. But Loren actually didn't mind anyway. Just watching the warm and vibrant exchange, especially William's, was entertaining enough for her.

Emil saw Loren and immediately was taken aback by her exquisite features. Knowing everyone's relationship status in their group, it was automatic that he realized Loren was with William.

He selected the only shot glass that wasn't dripping over the sides and approached Loren, offering her the shot. They introduced themselves and cheered "Skål" just as William slid next to Loren, gently placing his hand on the small of her back. The three talked about how Loren had almost crossed paths with Emil in Toronto, as Emil had stayed at William's during the playoffs after Loren had returned home.

As the night progressed, Loren and the three girlfriends were perched at a tall bar table, watching the billiard playoff rounds: William versus Rasmus and Erik versus Anders. Emil, having had an off-night, had been eliminated in the first round of pool.

Finding a spot next to Loren, Emil struck up an easy conversation. They chatted about her impressions of Stockholm and William's performance as a tour guide. Emil also offered his own recommendations for favorite places to visit and things to do in and around the city.

Emil found Loren warm, funny, and charming—a stark contrast to his earlier date that evening. That encounter had felt doomed from the start, lacking any spark in conversation, common interests, or chemistry.

Chemistry is exactly what he was feeling now with Loren. Besides that, he was awestruck by - well, everything about her.

Emil and Loren both laughed as they watched William and Rasmus chirp each other mercilessly. Erik and Anders' game wasn't nearly as rowdy—the noise from William and Rasmus continually interrupted their concentration. Soon, the two tables were facetiously hurling Swedish insults at one another. Malin, Lisa, and Ingrid joined in with their own comments, eliciting raucous laughter from the group.

Emil chuckled with the repartee and did his best to translate the banter for Loren. Her eyes sparkled as she witnessed the how close William’s friends were with one another, and laughed at the cutting but amusing remarks being exchanged.

William looked over at Loren and Emil. Although Loren had been watching William’s game closely, Emil was telling her a longer story about the how’s and where’s everyone first met. Initially, he was happy to see his long-time friend keeping Loren company, realizing that he himself had not really been by to check on her for awhile.

As he waiting for Rasmus to take his shot, William’s glance bounced between the pool table and the bar table where Emil seemed to be quite riveted with whatever Loren was talking about. The longer William looked, the more unnerved he felt.

Loren took a sip of her drink and, as she looked up, her eyes met William's. She winked and flashed him a bright smile. William gestured, asking if she was okay—she nodded yes and returned the question. He glanced at the pool table, then at Rasmus, and finally back to Loren, indicating he wasn't doing well.

Loren feigned a slight pouty face and mouth the word “sorry” followed by another beautiful smile.

Emil smiled faintly at the exchange. He couldn't believe his misfortune that Loren was William's whatever-interest. William had already given Emil a sense of who Loren was during his Toronto visit, describing her as gorgeous, kind, among other things. But now, meeting her in person, Emil felt as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on him because she was so much more.

The final round pitted William against Erik, with William emerging victorious in record time. He claimed it was his first win against any of the guys. As Emil retreated to the other side of the group, William approached Loren. He leaned in close, declaring her his good luck charm. Loren caught a whiff of beer, realizing William was likely half-cut by now. As he ran his hand up her back, he asked if she enjoyed herself and if she'd be ready to leave soon.

Malin called over to Loren asking if she wanted to come to the ladies room with them - she had an idea for another fun night and wanted to talk while she peed.

Loren touched William's arm and said she's ready to go anytime after her conference in the restroom. He watched her admiringly as she glided across the floor and disappeared around the corner.

William was definitely feeling more drunk than not and was feeling a certain stirring in his cock, despite having Loren three times already that day. He didn't even realize the smirk he had on his face when he joined his friends standing around the high-top table.

With William’s overt attraction for Loren on full display, his friends hurled out some good-natured jabs, followed by some genuine compliments about Loren, to which William enthusiastically affirmed.

Only Emil remained quiet. That is, until he didn't.

He started to shake his head indignantly. “You don't fuck around with this one, Willy. She's already more than what you deserve, given how long you've strung her along for.”

As their mouths fell open, Rasmus and the other men quietly watched as the blue squiggly vein by William’s temple seem to pulsate with Emil's remark.

“You barely even acknowledged her - at least since I've been here. Just because you can fuck any girl that even so much as looks at you, the good ones - great ones even - are ALL expendable to you. Loren - she fucking was there for you, man…she looked after you - cleaned up after you, fed you - sucked your dick. She's an 12 out of 10 at least and all you're gonna do is rope her in with your bullshit and then fuck around on her once you've got her locked in.” Emil drank back the rest of his beer, threw down a bill in the middle of the table and walked out.

William looked around at the stunned faces around the table and then followed Emil outside. The fresh air and the sting of the words one of his closest friend just hurled at him helped sober him up a little.

Emil leaned up against the outside wall of the bar, looking across the street, and then down at the sidewalk.

William approached him. “Bro - what the fuck was that?”

Emil started shaking his head and clenching his jaw. “Sorry, man - I had a rough night I guess. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” He thought for a moment. “Loren seems really amazing though. Good for you bro - glad you got her here for a visit. She gets to see the ‘real’ William Nylander.”

William knew the tone of Emil’s last remark but left it alone. “So this is more about Loren - dude…what the fuck, man…”

“No - not just about her - maybe it has nothing to do with her specifically. Meeting her just triggered something.” Emil slid down the wall into a squat. “It’s just - I’m fucking ready. I’m so ready to get the girl - the woman - who I’m meant to be with. To get the fuck on with life. You know how many dates I’ve been on lately - fuck me, dude…it’s fucking hard to find someone that I’m attracted to - and not just in the physical sense.”

William looked long and hard at his friend. He was pissed with Emil’s words but once again, they stung because there were threads of truth interwoven in them. “Emil - look, I know it seems easier for me, but it’s not…it might actually be worse. To know that they want me for me. Not for the money or status.”

Emil shook his head again. “But you’ve got that - in there - with HER. Wake the fuck up - you need to either cut her loose so she can start getting past the months you’ve strung her along or - “

“Fuck sakes Emil - I’m not stringing her along…. Jesus, what the fuck, bro. I care for her - a lot - and you know that. Look - I have to take things at a pace that I’m comfortable with…..this is a big thing for me too.”

Emil thought for a moment and his expression relaxed. “So - she’s not your girlfriend?”

William cocked his head to the side. He didn’t like where this was going. “Technically, no - she’s not.”

“So she’s here with you now, what happens when she leaves to go back to Toronto, and you’re still here? Are you dating in that situation?”

William bit the inside of his lip and thought about how to answer. “She just got here - and we’ll have to talk about it.”

“So depending on what you decide, she’ll either be available or not?”

William started to respond that it was Loren’s decision too but his voice trailed off, knowing that was not entirely accurate. “That will all be between her and I both - the two of us,” William said calmly, trying to emphasize this has nothing to do with Emil and he needs to butt out.

Emil looked at his long-time friend and shook his head, before turning on his heel and walking away.

“Hey - Emil…c’mon man…,” William called after him.

The only response William heard was “Greedy bastard” as Emil turned the corner.

That was twice William had been called greedy in the past 12 hours; however, only one was a joke.

William hung his head and then looked down the empty street before turning to go back inside. He and Emil had always been solid, but William got the feeling there had been resentments looming for a while. Poor Loren just happened to be the catalyst.

All four ladies had returned and congregated around the adjoining table. No one the wiser about the friction between William and Emil.

William stood close behind Loren, murmuring softly in her ear if she was good to leave. His hands circling around her waist then clasping together around her abdomen took her by surprise, but she sure wasn't complaining.

The ladies made tentative plans to visit a nightclub where Malin's friend would be DJing later that week. The men nodded and shrugged in agreement. It was a familiar, amicable exchange—the guys typically golfed during the day and escorted their girlfriends for a night out. This well-oiled routine helped maintain a peacefulness in their close circle of friends.

Loren and William said their goodbyes, exchanged hugs with their friends, and stepped outside to meet their Uber.

William tried to push his discussion with Emil aside and focus on Loren instead. He rested his hand on her knee, asking what she thought of everyone she'd met. He reveled in her smile as she talked about the personalities of the women she’d met, and even his male friends too. William pulled her in and she rested her head on his collarbone while he absentmindedly ran his finger along a small scar at the top of her kneecap. As unsettling as the conversation with Emil was, Loren’s mere presence

Try as he might, Emil and their heated exchanged remained a prominent thought in his mind. William thought about talking to Loren, wondering if she truly felt that he was stringing her along.

William pushed aside his thoughts as the Uber pulled up to his building. Once inside, he enveloped Loren in his arms, drawing her close and gently caressing her cheek with his lips. It was unbelievable to him at how, in just two days, there had already been two dramas centered around Loren—neither of which she had instigated.

William peppered her neck with kisses - the sensation from both his mouth and his mustache made Loren squeal as she gripped onto his body. His hands roamed, landing on her ass under her dress and giving both of her cheek an affectionate squeeze while he kissed down along her neck.

William finally pulled himself away - walking the dogs with blue balls did not seem enjoyable. Loren watched William change, offering to come with him. He gazed apologetically at her and asked if it would be okay if he went alone. He explained that some things had been mentioned to him by one of his friends and he needed time to mull it over. Loren did press for further clarification, she always assumed if William wanted to give details, he would. Before walking out the door, William pulled her in once more and told her he could hardly wait to join her in bed.

As the dogs lead William along their normal route, he decided to call Emil with the hopes that calmer heads might prevail. William reminded himself to ease into the conversation and to not jump in starting with “what the fuck.”

Emil was cordial initially when he answered, but then he softened as the two friends spoke. He apologized to William for some of the things he said, but he admits that other points he had made, he stood by - which William thought was fair.

“Look - I know it’s me…I know I’m the one that has all of this shit going on about finding “that” girl. I just wasn’t expecting to have the reaction I did when I met Loren - I know you told me all about her but fuck, she’s really something,” Emil said.

William nodded. “Yeah, she really is. She’s like good to the core.”

“So then I don’t get it - fuck, why can’t you just take the plunge…ask her if she wants to get more serious with you?” Emil chuckled “’Cause I swear dude, if she gave me a second look, I’m not hesitating…”

“Jesus dude - like I said - I can’t… I won’t rush this. It’s really not her that I’m worried about - this is me making sure I’m ready to go the distance with anyone. She’s the closest I have ever come to feeling that I can totally commit to someone, but I gotta do this in the way I feel comfortable.”

Emil paused. “Yeah, ok…I get it. Does she know that?”

William pressed his lips together, still tasting Loren’s lip gloss that transferred to his moustache. “I don’t think so - probably not. But I have something planned just for the two of us. I need us to just be completely alone with her and from there, we’ll figure it out.”

“She must be pretty fucking patient to deal with your wide array of shit,” Emil chuckled.

“Ha - yeah, she is. But she’s been through her own shit so I think she’s just as cautious as I am. She actually told me after her last boyfriend fucked her over, that was it - she preferred to be alone. But you know I’m so fucking adorable, she made an exception for me,” William laughed.

Emil lightly scoffed. “Whatever - maybe back in your boy band, fuck boy era… now, you’re all wide and hairy…you’re getting old, man…”

William just laughed. “I’m back at my building and Loren’s probably waiting so - we good?”

“Yeah - all good. Just let me know if something happens and she ends up being available, and I’ll - “

William started to laugh. “Fuck off dude…”

Emil continued “Hey - I won’t hesitate to - “

“Jesus bro - go jerk off or something…”

Emil paused “I’m not saying I already have but -”

“Okay - alright - don’t fucking need to know. See ya’ bro - talk soon…”

William chuckled as he slid his phone back in his pocket. The dogs immediately saw Loren curled up under a blanket on the couch when they walked through the door. He heard her muffled giggles as the dog’s onslaught of affection towards Loren ensued.

After a few minutes, William pulled Loren tightly to his body - they were both tired and ready for sleep. Loren found her favourite spot against his chest and stroked his back, drifting towards slumber.

Loren was somewhere between barely conscious and deep sleep, when she thought she heard William kissing her head and saying, just above a whisper “So amazing. Please be patient with me.”

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Random Mantle Girl: Oh my gosh! You're both so cool!

Jaune: It's just a part of the job - but thank you anyway.

Penny: It is what I was made to do!

Random Mantle Girl: *Places hand on Jaune's bicep* No, seriously, if there's anyway I could repay you, just let me know~

Jaune: Well, I'm tired of casserole, so if you've got something to spare, I wouldn't mind a bite.

Penny: Unfortunately I have very little off time and do not require sustenance, though your appreciation is ... Appreciated!

Random Mantle Girl: Well, I work at a Pizza place down the road - Here, it's my scroll number, just show it to whoever is at the register and they'll get you a discount. Swing by some time! Catch you later heroes~

Jaune: Cool! I'll be sure to do that!

(Beep Beep!)

Penny: Jaune! Weiss is requesting us Northward! We should be off!

Jaune: Alrighty! Bye! Thank you ... Random Girl!

Random Mantle Girl: IT'S CHERRY! BYE~

*Jaune and Penny Head out*

Weiss: Hey! You!

Cherry: Hmm? Oh. A Schnee.

Weiss: Look, Jaune is far too dense to pick up on flirting, and Penny doesn't have the social expertise to pick up on it.

Weiss: But more than that.

Weiss: They. Are. Mine.

Weiss: I have put the effort and time into getting to know them, understand them, be their friend. If you think you can waltz up to them and get any attention beyond friendliness, you are sorely Mistaken.

Weiss: So back. Off.

Cherry: *Shaking* Y-yes ma'am!

Weiss: *Cheerfully* Great! It's wonderful that we could reach an understanding! Please have a nice day!

[just-a-space-rabbit]

Flufftober 2024 Day: 13 Harvest Festival

Hero and Villain! The classic lovers from rival families. Only that the families are very enthusiastic rival farmers.

Flufftober 2024: Prompt List by @thepenultimateword TW:none (I think?) Mood: Humorous

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“That’s the last crate,” Hero said as they got to the family's market stall. The red family banner flowed in the air next to the giant canopy, making them stand out like a sore thumb compared to all the others. Not that it could be changed, this had been the family way since… Well, Hero was not sure.

“Great” Hero Father said, before placing one hand on Hero’s shoulder as he began to speak in a hushed voice while looking from side to side. “Can you make sure that everything is, ya know… extra fresh?” he said, giving Hero a knowing look.

“NO!” Hero answered, appalled. “That's cheating!”

“No, it’s not!” Hero’s youngest sibling said, jumping into the conversation from behind the stand.

“It is!” Hero snapped back. Already not looking forward to the long day ahead.

“It’s not!” Sibling continued as the two got closer. “You can totally use ‘you know what’ because Villain is one of them. And you should know that everyone talks about how Villain and Hero got a thing. Even though everyone SHOULD know that Hero and Supervillain is a WAY better pairing. but, I digress!” 

Immediately Hero began to hold back their blush at their siblings' forwardness. As by now half of the family had gathered around them both. But Sibling just continued “So knowing them, they probably got Hero to use their powers on their vegetable stand. Therefore you can use yours at our stand!” 

“That…” Hero said, astonished at their sibling. “That is the biggest leap of logic I have ever heard! How do you know that Villain is one of them? And even if they were, which they are not! Why would they want Hero even do that?”

“And by they, I believe you mean us, if I’m not mistaken?” A voice suddenly spoke up as V’s mother came walking up to them with Villain and several more of the family members behind them.

“Villain mother.” Hero Father grunted as he got in-between Hero and the Villain family. “What do you want?”

Villain Mother chuckled before answering “well… we could hear your fighting all the way across to our stall and thought that you lot had already started a fight with one of our own” as she said as she looked at Hero and their sibling. “Strange to see one of your people actually defending us. ” 

Hero shifted uncomfortably wondering how much of the conversation she had heard. Even though Hero’s plant power was a bit of a known secret, they weren’t sure if Villain’s family had made the connection between Hero and their civilian identity. 

The only thing keeping them calm was seeing Villain give them the smallest smile they could when their eyes met. What they give to just be alone with them right now.

“Hero was not defending you lot!” Hero Father answered sternly.

“Oh well, not that it matters,” Villain Mother said. “Since you yourself seem so willing to cheat, then I bet you already know your crops aren’t good enough to beat us. So have fun losing this year” 

A murmur of grunts and angry comments could be heard from Hero’s family. While, Villain’s family looked quite pleased with themself. The only once not taking part in this was Hero and Villain, who both wanted this ti deescalate.

“Oh, so that is what you think!” Hero father said, raising their chest high. “If you're so sure you're gonna win, then why don’t we bet on it!”

“Dad! Don’t do this!” Hero said but was cut of by Villain Mother

“A bet you say,” she smirked as some of the other family members snickered. “Well, what do you have to offer?”

“1000 dollars” he said plainly.

 “1000 dollars?! Is that all you can muster?” Villain Mother mocked as all of the family members  excluding Villain joined her in laughter. “No. I won’t waste my time on a money bet. Bring something actually valuable-” She stopped herself as her eyes again landed on Hero, and a smirk grew on her face. “If we win, Hero will have to work on our farm next year”

“W-WHAT?!?!” Hero yelped upon hearing the words, but was drowned out by the rage from Hero’s family. ‘One year working for the Villain family. Working with Villain?’ Hero thought fighting a blush, as the mere thought of being that close to Villain in front of his family was terrifying.

“Fine,” Hero Father answered, making everyone stop what they were doing. “But if we win then Villain will have to work on our farm next year” At those words Hero’s mind fully froze over. The thought of being that close to Villain in front of THEIR OWN FAMILY was even more terrifying!

“Mom, are you sure about this? I don’t think this is legal-”  Villain asked but stopped once he saw her determined look, he already knew there was no way of making her back down.

“It’s a deal,” She said confidently. “However, I want my son to keep an eye on Hero. Now that they have motivation to not lose. The last thing we want is cheating”

“NO WAY! You just want Villain near us so that he can cheat and sabotage us.” Hero Father  responded. 

Soon both families were joining in the conversation and everyone wanted to say their mind on this matter when Villain yelled out loud “How about both me and Hero are at either stalls! But we are also in the same place so we both know the other is not cheating!”

It was a miracle that Hero could hold their blush back enough for neither family to notice, all while Hero’s sibling and cousins were teasing them. “Poor little Hero” Sibling said “having it stay next to Villain all day” 

Soon both sides left to their stalls leaving Hero and Villain behind awkwardly. “Does she know???” Hero asked in a whisper, once the two were further away from everyone.

“Knowing her, absolutely not….” Villain chuckled, giving Hero a smile that sent butterflies up her stomach. “Anyway I guess I now need to deal with you the rest of the day. So, why not have a competition ourselves!”

“How?” Hero asked, confused.

“We play all the festival games! One point per game, the one with the most points by the end WINS!” they said running off to the game section.

… … … … …

Day 12 -🎃- Day 14

[scrimblewimble]

•were you trying to get my attention?•

lightly possessive!Yae Miko x afab!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

•in which the lady Yae gets very handsy with the reader in her office after they show up to the shrine in a short skirt•

-A lot of touching, grinding, and trying not to get caught-

"honestly," The head shrine maiden sighed, "You couldn't think of a single good excuse for wearing that thing up here?"

You knew better than to believe the feigned disappointment in the lady Yae's voice as she had you on her lap, resting in her office chair. Her hands holding lightly on your waist, keeping you facing her.

"if I didn't know any better," her left hand slid up your shirt, "I'd say you came up here to get all the other shrine maidens looking at you with your ass hanging out," she hissed. lazily, she groped your chest over your bra.

in one painfully slow movement the kitsune leant forward, teeth grazing your skin before she ended at the lobe of your ear, "were you trying to get my attention?"

she left sloppy, open mouthed kisses along your neck, suckling on the skin as she dragged her finger nails softly along your skin and round your back, where she unclasped your bra with relative ease, continuing to grope your bare breast.

her nipping at your collarbone elicited a shamefull moan from you, your hands gripping her clothes to steady yourself, embarrassed by how easily she had coaxed the sound from you.

Yae really would be lying if she said the skirt didn't get her riled up, just looking at you sat on her lap now she could almost see your panties, she couldn't get enough of the way your bare thighs looked resting on her own. The head shrine maiden's other hand began to creep up your thigh, still groping your chest with the other.

Her right hand made its way to your ass, tracing her finger along the edge of your panties as if carefully considering if she should brake it's seal before the left slid quickly down to your waist, shocking you as she sharply pulled you forward so your crotch lay on hers.

"If you thought I'd let you have it so easy you're sorely mistaken, little rabbit," she cooed, holding now with both hands onto your hips as she gently guided you in grinding against her clothed cunt.

her pacing gradually increased as she felt you getting more needy, trying to move against her to your own rhythm as you felt a need building up in your core. her left hand went onto explore your body, traveling upwards until she was at your face. Again, she held your chin and forced you to look at her as her thumb made its way to your bottom lip, gently pulling your mouth open.

Yae held eye contact with you for a moment, her electric gaze holding you captive as she continued to grind your hips against her own.

she went in to kiss you, tounge tracing your bottom lip before granting herself enterance, she had you like putty in her hands as she sloppily explored your mouth.

You felt yourself becoming more aware of the room, filled by the sounds of your lazy making out and the quiet squelching of wet cloth on cloth, knowing any shrine maiden might appear at the office to see the lady Yae at any moment.

"m-miko," you panted, stifling a moan, "we're going to get cau- hnngh" her hand pulled down the waist band of your panties, adjusting to pull them down far enough to have access to your puffy pussy.

"don't you worry about that," you could hear the sly smirk in her voice as she traced gentle circles around your throbbing hole, gently rubbing your clit before entering with two fingers, curling her fingers slightly the way she knew got you going.

You clenched around her as she pulled in and out, shifting at the absence of her own pleasure as her focus was on you.

"so needy," she cooed as you tried to move your hips to feel her deeper, removing her fingers entirely.

"please-" you began to beg before feeling her bare, wet cunt grinding against your own. You let an absurdly pornographic moan escape your lips, loud enough that you had to put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself in fear that somebody would hear.

Miko moved her hips against you expertly until you came, both your lust dripping from each others legs and covering the wooden chair in the lady's office.

the both of your panting was interrupted by a knock on the door, miko's hand immediately shooting up to cover your mouth.

"lady miko?" a shrine maiden called.

"just a moment."

///

A/N

first time writing actual smut? can I get a high five?? 😍😍 (joking)

[lancedoncrimsonwings]

WIP Wednesday + Writing Share + Out Of Context Line Tag Game

WIP Wed + Out Of Context Line tag: @holy3cake

Writing Share tag: @aintgonnatakethis

No Pressure Tags: If you tagged me, you're tagged to do the other one/s + Open Tag

Rules: WIP Wed/Writing Share: Share any snippet of your writing, often the last thing you've written. Out Of Context Line: Share any line, but give no context.

The fatigue is high today so I'm gonna post these all here, open tag!

Something new today, snippets from a Gwayne Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen (Gwaenyra? Gwanyra?) House of the Dragon "oneshot" since the idea of this pairing ruined me. (I am very much team Black, this is from Gwayne's POV!)

Late WIP Wed/Writing Share;

"Who's this?" The Lady spoke, gentle voice clear and commanding, it echoed through the room. If there was any doubt in his mind as to who this woman was, then the Whitecloak's immediate response confirmed it.

"My Queen," The Whitecloak said, bowing quickly, "We believe it to be Ser Gwayne Hightower, brother to the Dowager Queen Alicent."

The Lady Rhaenyra Targaryen herself, Pretender-to-the-throne, once-heir, enemy of his kin. Whore of Dragonstone, Cole called her. Her violet eyes fixed upon him, doe like in evident suprise.

"Is it true? You are Ser Gwayne Hightower?"

"If you believe you can ransom me, My Lady, you are sorely mistaken." Gwayne told her, dipping his head briefly to make at least some effort to be courteous.

"You will refer to Her Grace with her proper title!" The Whitecloak at his side snapped, to which he scoffed. Lady Rhaenyra held up a hand, waved the man away.

"I do not wish to ransom you, Ser. I want what I am owed, and I want peace. Too much blood has been spilt already." Lady Rhaenyra spoke calmly, but Gwayne could hear the demanding petulance clear as day.

"I'm flattered, Your Grace, that you think of me so highly," Gwayne cared not to hide the sarcastic emphasis he placed upon the false title, smirking up at the Lady of Dragonstone before he continued; "Perhaps once my good sister would have harkened your words, sued for peace for mine safety. Alas I fear those days are long gone."

Her silvery brows knitted into a frown, as she appeared to deliberate what he'd said. The room was silent in anticipation of her response, and Gwayne suddenly found his throat dry, eying the winecup atop the table with a wanting envy.

"Your own sister cares not if you live or die?" She eventually replied. Gwayne wasn't sure he'd been expecting that as a response. Gwayne realised it unsettled him that she hadn't risen to his disrespect, had he spoken to his dear nephew King Aegon that way, he was liable to have his guts strung up with the damned ratcatchers. Not that his dear sister would allow that, but threats would surely have been made.

This though... He knew well enough no matter her standing that Alicent wouldn't be able to do a damned thing amongst the posturing fools that sat at her side, and if Cole had his way, Gwayne would probably be left to rot.

"Oh I'm quite sure she cares, in her own way. But none else share the sentiment, I fear I am quite expendable."

"What of your father? You are his only son- his firstborn. Surely he has a care for you?"

"My Father..." Gwayne paused then, gave an emotionless laugh, "I'm sure it would please him to see you try to use me for political gain."

He had spoken true, Gwayne knew well enough if his father, Otto Hightower, the great Hand-of-the-King could see him now... then the man would be disgusted. Gwayne had ever been the family disappointment to Lord Hightower, his "only son a damned disgrace", and now? Bitterness welled up within him at the thought.

The False Queen had grown silent again at his words, appearing to ponder them. The way she had spoken reeked of desperation. Surely he could exploit that somehow, prove that the lessons his father had taught him were not lost on him entirely...

"No matter. Queen Alicent will still desire to see you returned unharmed. We may yet come to some accord with her."

Queen Alicent. And quite suddenly the contrast between how the Lady before him spoke, and how she was spoken of intruiged him. No matter who said it, her name was spat with venom, if there wasn't an outright insult used in place of it instead. Yet Lady Rhaenyra spoke of Alicent with a quiet dignity, no insults hurled. At least not yet. That earned her a modicum of respect, he supposed.

Out-Of-Context Line:

"Your Grace," He kneeled, unwilling or just unable to meet her gaze now, "Please, I-I humbly beg of you, show him the mercy that they denied to you."

[brideofdiscord-rewritten]

Bride of Discord Chapter 6: The Decision

the next day, now the beginning of the next month Kimono knocked quietly at the door of the hut. The gentle roll of her hoof on the oak door gave way to the clinks of hanging metal decorum and the rattles of wood hanging next to the shiny wind chimes. There was the audible announcement of her dear friend. The door opened, notably without creaking.

"Kimono dear, please, come in! Sit down with me and let's begin."

The pony loved her peaceful greetings. "Thank you very much for inviting me here. I'm sure that you can give me all the facts without bias, from outside of ponyville."

"In that case, please be wary, what I will tell you is quite scary! Discord has angered me too, so unbiased fact I cannot give you!"

Kimono snorted. "If I get caught with fake news you're coming down with me!"

"no my friend, you're sorely mistaken! If you are caught I won't be Forsaken!"

"YOURE COMPLICIT! THERE CAN BE NO WITNESSES!"

They howled in laughter as they pretended to square up, before they stopped only because zecora nearly knocked down a jar of roots.

"Ive known the week's chaos as the product of discord's reign throughout equestria from letters. I wrote much down whilst touring ponyville. But I have no idea what happened at the canterlot castle, nor do I know what is happening in this forest."

Zecora spoke slowly, so as to give the pony across from her time to write it all down for the archives. kimono was the keeper of all pony history, and did her best to upkeep her reputation as the mare to go to for knowledge. Zecora looked on as she scrunched her face, stuck her tongue out, and attempted to focus and knew she could be a pony that learns around her. They were mutualists and learned from each other.

Her train of speech of interrupted with Kimono's questions.

"and what of his demands?"

Zecora tensed and scratched her chin. "A bride he demands, as well as land. His next demand is awfully unique. They can't use the elements to defend the meek."

Kimono sipped her Rooibos mango tea.

"and what would he want- in a PLOTTING manner, with a bride?"

"A "plotting manner" is precisely the issue, to hurt his bride I don't think he'd wish to. Perhaps it's love the creature seeks? I don't know, to me he won't speak."

"it has to be somepony... Somepony who can handle prolonged isolation."

"Applejack sent a letter a while back, saying that fluttershy's about to crack. She considers marrying the draconequus. Apple's trying to disparage this wish."

Kimono frowned, her eyebrows screwing up into a sympathetic expression. "Maybe fluttershy thinks it'll bring her purpose. When ponies make big decisions such as this, a sense of inferiority or insignificance is the root cause."

"if that's where the decision resides, she should know she's made great strides."

"Let's send her a letter, I will help you!"

Another 30 minutes passed and betwixt tea, parchment, and ink the ponies sent Fluttershy a letter of comfort and as much advice as they could give. Zecora advised Kimono to sweep the path leading up to where she lived, for fear of evil forces affecting her. Of course, not before sweeping her own porch and blowing up on it cinnamon from her hoof.

"Applejack, some pony has to go with him. What choice do I have?"

"There are plenty of ponies in Equestria! It doesn't have to be you!"

"But how many do you think would be willing to go?"

"I…well…"

"This is my choice, Applejack. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, Sugar Cube. I've seen you face up to a manticore and a full-grown dragon. But Discord…" She sighed. "Look, I just don't want you to get hurt, and I know the others don't wanna lose you to that…"

"If I don't go, no one will. The sun will never be in your pastures again!"

Applejack stared up at her friend with blurry eyes and then hung her head. "I can't stop you shug. I want'cha to be happy with the rest of your life, y'know."

"I can be happy this way applejack." The mare lifted her friend's head with her gentle hoof, caressing her Cheech as gently as she could while a small tear soaked into her coat.

"Just…promise me you'll write. And even if he don't let ya see the letters, just know I'll still be writin' em."

The cold and unyielding castle they housed felt warmer.

Fluttershy embraced her friend. "I knew you'd understand, Applejack." When she pulled away, she smiled smugly. "So what's this with you and rainbow? You've both been going to Rarity's more often!" The farm pony bolted upright

Applejack turned beet, (or rather apple,) red. "It ain't nothin'! Really! It's just an idea!"

"What would THAT be, applejack?"

"Rarity really likes us both real bad, but she dont wanna date just one mare. It's this poly-whatsit thing..." her very ears seemed to flush red. "Me and dash ain't dating, but we're both... goin steady with Rarity. It's kinda embarrassin'. Ya can't tell any pony, ya hear?"

Fluttershy giggled. She squealed in awe "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye! You're just like a filly again!"

Applejack nudged her shoulders.

Fluttershy said nothing and headed towards her room. Applejack caught up with her before she could close the door.

"Fluttershy," she called, "whatever you choose, I just want you to know…"

She turned to her. "Yes?"

"You…you just might be the bravest pony I've ever known."

Fluttershy smiled, knowing that it was always the truth with her. "That really means a lot to me, Applejack."

That night, she slept lightly, slumped over a large circular pillow, and a small parchment wrapped in her hooves. of, and the words that her friends had written: "He may not be an angel from above,but perhaps what he needa is love" The words soothed her. The more she thought about it, the less worried she was. She was scared, but never terrified. She liked to think it was all true. Discord is an animal just like her, so he surely has a heart, doesn't he? And hearts are the symbols of love.

Twilight gazed out her window. The sun hadn't risen in the week leading up to this month. The moon seemed to fly away from the earth. There was nothing left amongst the clouds. There was nothing. This was the before, the dreamscape.

A cry from Rainbow Dash interrupted her thoughts. "YO EVERYONE! Twilight! You'se not gonna believe it!"

"What is it?" the princess demanded.

"It's Fluttershy, she's gone! She freakin' did it!!"

Twilight didn't waste a second and followed the pegasus to Fluttershy's room. Rarity, Pinkie, Applejack and Spike surrounded the empty bed. The dragon held a note in his claws. The unicorn removed it with her magic and read it aloud:

"Dear Fluttershy,

Do not let the needs of the few outweigh the needs of self. In turn, the needs of your mind being filled will save everyone who matters. Go to the draconequus, if it's truly what you wish. He's not be an angel from above, but perhaps what he needs is love."

Every pony turned suspiciously towards Applejack, who bore the expression of a foal who'd eaten a lemon for the first time.

The cowgirl stomped her hoof. "She did it! She gone and did it! I tried to talk her out of it, I really did! She made me Pinkie Promise not to say nothin' before she did it!"

"Calm down, Applejack. What happened?"

What would've been daybreak. The sun should've illuminated the foggy dew kissing the plants that reached towards the great pink-orange heavens. Instead, there was what only looked like night.

She took a deep breath and looked up at them with tears in her eyes.

"Hello?" she called out weakly. "Anyone home?"

Fluttershy stood at the cave entrance. A part of her was telling her to turn back, but another was telling her to go in. She had to do this for her friends, for the princesses, for Equestria. She inhaled deeply and walked in.

It was dark, but that's not what frightened her. She had the feeling that he was going to jump out at any moment. Stop it, Fluttershy, she told herself. You need to be brave.

"Well, well, well."

She yelped in surprise and spun around to find the draconequus standing over her.

"If it isn't the Element of Kindness herself? How nice of you to drop in!"

Suddenly, the ground beneath her disappeared and Fluttershy screamed as she fell through a hole. She landed with a thump and looked around to find that she had landed in the same spot that she had fallen.

"How did…?" she stammered.

Discord laughed maniacally. "Oh, that was priceless!" He wiped away a tear. "So what brings you here, horsey? Come to negotiate some more?"

Fluttershy struggled to stand, as her knees were shaking. "Well, I have come to negotiate something…" the term "horsey" made her blood boil.

"Strange that Twilight would send you to try to reason with me. Well, you can tell your precious princess that I will only take a bride and that's final!"

"And a bride you shall have!"

Discord stared at her, shocked at her sudden outburst. "Is that so? Well, where is the lucky mare?" His outfit appeared as that of a game show host.

Her teeth started chattering. "R-right…h-here."

He blinked. "Say again?"

Fluttershy closed her eyes and straightened up. "I will be your bride."

For a long while, there was silence and she opened her eyes to see his face full of confusion. Then he erupted into a roar of laughter.

"Oh, I get it! This is a joke, right? Alright, who put you up to this? Twilight? Maybe that prankster Pinkie Pie?" She did not respond. "Rainbow Dash?"

"They…don't even know I'm here. Well, they should by now. I left them a note."

"Why would you leave them a…? Nevermind!" Buzzers and Foghorns pelted her ears. Flashing colorful neon lights and confetti brightened up the scenery.

He would have never expected her, the pegasus afraid of her own shadow, to accept his offer. Actually, he was beginning to think no pony would come forth at all.

"And no pony put you up to this?"

She shook her head. "This was my decision. But…" She backed away nervously. "If you'd rather have some pony else…"

"Now hold on!" She jumped as he appeared behind her. "I didn't say I wasn't interested."

He circled her, studying her carefully from every angle. Comedically, of course; with an oversized magnifying glass he examined her like a crime scene. He'd never stand there and check her out like a pervert. He lifted the mare's hoof and studied her well kempt horseshoes. Her hooves, which had been through so much for years, perfect because of this hunk of metal.

"hey now, where'd you get that made? And does it come in more sizes?" He popped off his hoof and showed her the size 13 mens' label.

Discord had to admit, for a pony, she wasn't that bad to look at. Her silky pink mane was well-groomed and smelled of honeysuckle, her big teal eyes, though closed now, were almost adorable, and her voice was sweet as honey. This must have been a trick of some sort. There was no way this pony could have come out of her own free will, but he knew she wasn't a trickster. Besides, when was he going to get another chance to do this!

He poofed a giant boom box now held above his head as he stood there, in a white snapback, open white button up shirt, and baggy white pants. The boom box blasted throughout the air, making the nearby corvids fly away in sheer awe of the smooth R&B caressing their pathetic bird lives.

"You'll do," he said with indifference. "But are you certain this is what you want, my dear?"

°°I vow, To never call you out your name

I vow, To treat you as me the same°°

Fluttershy looked up at him boldly. "If I were to go with you, you will keep your promise and let the princesses go?"

"My dear," he said with a bow, "you have my word."

°I vow, To cover that with love actions and words

I vow, To talk to you sincerely°

"And…my friends?"

"Will never hear from me again."

She gulped. "Nor me?"

He stooped down to her, his face just inches from hers. "Of course they can talk to you! It's just that I would have to send you back, and that's against our agreement! So, letters will have to do. Don't you want your every need catered to?"

°°To bow down at your feet, Not to worship you as a God, But as a queen°°

"Catered to my every need?"

"If we are to be married, what's mine is yours. If it is in my power, I shall give you whatever you desire. Call it a prenup."

She could not tell if he was serious. Being offered whatever she desired did sound tempting, but why would he do that for her? Perhaps Zecora and Kimono were right. Maybe he was desperate for a companion.

Seeing that he was getting to her, he placed his hands on her shoulders. "So what'll it be, my dear?"

It didn't matter. Equestria needed the princesses returned. She breathed in.

"I'll marry you."

"Excellent!" He leapt excitedly into the air.

"Now where are the princesses?"

Instead of answering, he smirked. "Why don't we make it official?"

He snapped his fingers and a box materialized in his paw. He opened it to reveal a sparkling diamond ring. Intricately carved within it was words.

"Oh dear," Fluttershy muttered.

He chuckled. "I'll ask again. Will you marry me, my dear Fluttershy?"

"Fluttershy, don't!"

The pegasus turned to see Twilight racing towards them, the others running behind. The song

°Me and you Against the world, No matter what comes up before us baby-° the music abruptly stopped.

"DUDE I THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING!" Rainbow shook fluttershy. Applejack carried dash to the ground and kept her as close as possible.

Discord stopped them all with his magic. "Do you mind? I'm in the middle of a proposal here!"

"Put them down!" Fluttershy begged. "Please, just let me say goodbye to them!"

He rolled his eyes and released them from his spell. Fluttershy rushed to Twilight's side.

"you shouldn't have come after me, I'm grown! I know what I'm doing!"

"We couldn't let you go with him!" the unicorn bellowed, pointing accusingly at the draconequus.

"You don't understand. I have to do this."

"No, you don't! There has to be another way!"

"If I don't do this, Equestria's doomed for all eternity. I'll be doomed! This is the safest option."

"But do you have any idea what this monster might do to you?!" Pinkie shouted, "he might just lock you in a tower!

"Now, THATS A harmful stereotype-"

"No pony chooses my fate but me."

"Fluttershy," Rarity pleaded, "you can't possibly marry this…beast!"

Discord dramatically clutched his pearls.

"I'm sorry, but this is my decision."

"But Fluttershy," Pinkie sniffed. "We'll never see you again."

She looked at her friends sadly. "I know."

"We'll find another way to get the princesses back!" Twilight insisted. "I'll even go in your place! We'll…"

"She's right!" Applejack interrupted. They all turned to her in shock. "Fluttershy's the only pony in control of her destiny. If her decision is to save Equestria, we should respect that decision." She walked up to her friend. "You take care of yourself, ya hear?"

Fluttershy nodded and embraced the earth pony. "Make sure my animals get everything they need."

"Of course, Sugar Cube."

"Fluttershy," Rainbow started to say as she flew down to her. "You can't…you won't…"

She hugged her childhood friend. "You stood up for me so many times. Now I can return the favor."

She hovered over to Rarity. "You can keep my clothes, if you like."

The unicorn was astonished. "Darling, you can't expect me to…" She stopped as she too received a hug. "Don't be silly. I'll send them over."

Fluttershy then turned to the pink earth pony. "Pinkie Pie, I…"

Pinkie let out a wail and flung her hooves around her neck. "Don't forget us, okay? I mean even if you'll never see us again, don't forget our names! I mean it's easy to forget a pony's name after not seeing them for a while and…"

"I won't forget you, Pinkie."

She sniffed and hugged tighter. "I know."

Once Pinkie had loosened her grip, Fluttershy turned to Spike. Before she could say anything, he wrapped his arms around her legs with a whine. She then looked up at Twilight, who was on the verge of tears.

"I'll be fine," she assured her. "I promise."

How can you possibly keep that promise?" the unicorn choked.

"You know how good I am with creatures." The rest she said in a whisper. "I think I can tame him."

"But…but…"

"For equestria."

She nodded and embraced her. Discord was about ready to gag.

"Hello?" he called, waving the ring box. "Waiting for an answer here!"

Fluttershy pulled away from her friends and courageously faced the draconequus. She stuck out her hoof and uttered, "Yes, I'll do it."

Discord smiled in triumph as he zapped the box away. The ring then reappeared on a chain around Fluttershy's neck. The draconequus cackled as he scooped his bride-to-be in his arms. The ponies watched in horror.

"If you hurt a hair on her head…!" Rainbow warned.

"I assure you, she won't be harmed. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a wedding to plan!"

With a final triumphant laugh, Discord vanished with Fluttershy and in their place, the three princesses appeared, their horns restored to their heads.

"What's happened?" Luna demanded. "Where's Discord?"

The ponies burst into tears. Applejack was the only one with the strength to speak.

"He's…taken a bride."

Their eyes widened. "Who?" Celestia asked. In receiving no response, she beseeched her student. "Twilight? Who did he take?"

The purple alicorn buried her face in her hooves, knowing her friend was gone because of her failure as a princess. "I'm sorry, Fluttershy…I'm so, so sorry!"

[gladdygirl18]

Laughing All the Way

Happy Holidays, everyone! Surprise @sunstone-smiles! I was your Secret Santa once again for SquealingSanta2023! I cannot tell you how glad I was to get you again! You are one of my greatest friends, and I wanted to make this special. Like last year, I made it Christmas/holiday-themed. I really hope you enjoy it!

This fic contains zero spoilers, so happy reading!

Theme for this fic: One character is trying to make the other laugh/smile, and what better way than to tickle them?

Summary: Dimitri is trying to get Felix to smile since he hasn't seen it since they were kids. After asking for assistance from Sylvain, the red-haired lace-wielder has the perfect idea to get their gloomy friend to smile again.

Word Count: 2255

Felix Hugo Fraldarius is a very stoic young man; he's a Duke, for goodness sake. Those meeting him for the first time would think he was like this since he was a kid. Well, those people would be sorely mistaken. In his youth, along with Dimitri, Sylvain, Ingrid, and Glenn, Felix was a very energetic and happy kid. Every time you looked at the young nobleman, he was smiling. It warmed his father's heart to see him smile. However, after Glenn died, Felix's smile did, too. Throughout most of his preteen and teen years, Felix has never appropriately smiled. Over the years, Dimitri and some other Blue Lions would attempt to get the young nobleman to smile. They succeeded with a chuckle here and there and maybe a small grin or smirk, but never a full-blown smile. Now that the war between the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Adrestian Empire was over and the orchestrator of the Tragedy of Duscur was no more, the season of giving was drawing near. More than ever, Dimitri was determined to make his childhood friend smile again.

"Okay, okay, how about this one," Dimitri said with a slight chuckle, "What does Santa suffer from if he gets stuck in a chimney?"

"I don't know, what?" Felix asked, annoyance tainting his words.

"Claus-trophobia!"

Dimitri giggled at the joke, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder for support. The young king looked at the kingdom's shield to see his normal, deadpan expression.

"Oh, come on!" Dimitri said, "Not even a chuckle? That was so funny!"

"It was, but the person who told it isn't." Felix said, his words colder than ice.

Dimitri tried not to take offense to the comment, but that hurt weighed heavy on the chest. The holiday season was here, and the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus was blessed with a layer of snow. Snow covered every nook and cranny from the castle to the town. In that same breath, the kingdom was preparing for its annual Christmas tree lighting and party. Dimitri had extended the invitation to Claude and the other members of the Golden Deer, but they respectfully declined since they still had to tie up some loose ends on their part. While some of the Blue Lions were assisting the townsfolk in setting up the town for the party and tree lighting, Dimitri tried to get Felix to smile by telling some jokes, but it wasn't working.

"Come on, Felix," Dimitri said, "Just smile. It's the holidays,"

"Why should that be my reason to smile?" Felix asked, his tone a tad cold.

Dimitri breathed a heavy sigh, seeing his breath appear and disappear into the chilly air. The young king patted the duke's shoulder before walking away from him, defeated. After passing by some townsfolk, he saw Sylvain helping some people set up a stall filled with cookies and pastries.

"Sylvain." Dimitri called out.

The young lance-wielder perked up and smiled when he saw the king.

"Your Majesty," Sylvain said, placing down the decoration box, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Please, Sylvain," Dimitri said, shaking his head, "You know how I feel about you calling me that,"

"Haha, I know; I'm only teasing."

"You're lucky I do."

Sylvain chuckled before handing off the decoration box to one of the knights.

"So, what's up, Dimitri?" Sylvain asked.

"It's Felix," Dimitri sighed, "I've tried to get him to smile, but nothing has worked. I haven't seen his smile since we were kids; I miss it, and it's the holiday season, so he should be smiling."

Sylvain hummed in thought as he paced in front of the young king.

"What have you tried so far?" Sylvain asked, crossing his arms.

"All I've been doing was telling him Christmas-themed jokes." Dimitri said.

"Yeah, jokes don't work on him anymore."

Dimitri groaned in defeat as he leaned against the stall.

"I just want to bring his spirits up for the holidays," Dimitri confessed, "Is that so wrong?"

"Not at all," Sylvain said, placing a hand on the king's shoulder, "Your actions are very commendable, just... you need a better approach when making Felix smile."

Dimitri nodded as the pieces gradually came together. The young king turned to the redhead with a knowing look.

"You say as if you know how to get Felix to smile." Dimitri said.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't." Sylvain said with a wink.

Dimitri's eyes widened, as well as his smile.

"Please, you must help me to get Felix to smile!" Dimitri half-begged.

"Haha, alright, alright," Sylvain chuckled, "It's been a while, so I don't know how effective it'll be or if it'll work at all."

"I'll take any suggestion and assistance at this point."

Sylvain nodded with a smile.

"Just leave it to me, Dima," Sylvain said, "So, where's the Scrouge?"

Dimitri smiled and gestured for the redhead to follow. After walking through the town, the two men reached the castle's courtyard to see Felix assisting some knights in decorating the small area.

"Just follow my lead," Sylvain whispered, "Hey! Felix!"

The young duke turned around and let out an annoyed sigh.

"What do you want, Sylvain?" Felix asked.

"Geez, heck of a greeting," Sylvain said, "But to answer your question, I want you to smile."

Felix scoffed and shook his head.

"The boar already tried, alright? I don't need another one attempting the same thing." Felix said.

"Ah, but you see, where one fails, another succeeds," Sylvain said, waltzing over to the duke, "And I will be the one who succeeds."

Felix rolled his eyes and turned his back to Sylvain.

"Do your worst," Felix said, "I'm not smil-IHING!"

The young duke let out a small squeal when he felt something poke his side. Felix whipped around to see Sylvain grinning like an imp.

"Sylvain," Felix began, "Don't. You. Dare..."

"Say, Felix," Sylvain said, stepping close to the young duke, "Do you remember the method I used to make you smile?"

Felix growled under his breath as he backed away from the lance-wielder. Dimitri analyzed the situation before a slight, sinister grin spread across his face when he caught on. Without warning, the young king tackled the duke into the snow, wrestling to keep him pinned.

"What the hell, boar!?" Felix questioned, "Did your brain freeze over or something? Get off me!"

"Now, now, Felix," Dimitri said, "Is that any way to talk to a friend? More so, your king?" Sylvain asked, kneeling beside him.

The young duke growled as he struggled to escape the young king's grip. When he saw Sylvain's approaching wiggling fingers, Felix's struggling became a bit more violent.

"Sylvain, get your hands away from me!" Felix said.

"Now, that scowl won't do," Sylvain said, "We need you smiling!"

When the redhead said that, he pounced, skittering his fingers up and down the young duke's sides. Felix inhaled sharply before biting his lip, stopping the giggles that bubbled in his throat.

"S-Sylvain, s-stohohop..." Felix said, letting a giggle slip.

"Was that a giggle I heard?" Dimitri asked.

"N-No, it wahahasn't."

"The lies we tell," Sylvain said, "Well, you were always a terrible liar, Felix."

Felix was cracking bit by bit, giggles occasionally slipping through his pursed lips.

"Ugh, this is getting us nowhere," Sylvain said, pulling away, "Time to get serious."

Felix breathed out a sigh of relief when the redhead stopped. However, his moment of breath was short-lived. The young duke let out an unmanly squeak when he felt something poke all over his ribs, causing Felix to exhale adorable giggles.

"Sylvaahahahain! Nohohoho!" Felix giggled, "You are suhuhuhuch a jeheheherk!"

"There's that smile!" Sylvain exclaimed, "Hey, Dimitri, try out one of your jokes again; I guarantee Felix will laugh at 'em."

The redhead gave the young king a knowing look and a wink, to which Dimitri returned.

"Alright, let's see," Dimitri said, pretending to think, "What is it called when a snowman has a temper tantrum?"

"I don't knohohohohohow!" Felix giggled.

"A meltdown!"

When Sylvain pinched one of Felix's middle ribs, the young duke squealed as his giggles went up an octave.

"Goodness, Felix. I knew my jokes were good, but I didn't think they were that good." Dimitri joked.

"Shuhuhuhut uhuhup, bohohohoar!" Felix cried, "Sylvahahahain, stahahahap! This isn't fuhuhuhunny anymohohohohore!"

"Really, because it seems like you're just finding everything funny at this point," Sylvain said, "I mean, I can say something stupid, like, I saw two black birds kissing in a tree. Guess they were under a mistle-crow."

Felix tried to purse his lips together, but when Sylvain pinched that one middle rib, Felix lost all composure and snorted before giggling again, causing the other two to join in.

"Oh, man, that was great!" Sylvain laughed.

"Sylvain's funny, but I didn't think he'd be able to accomplish such a feat as that!" Dimitri laughed.

When Felix felt the young king's grip loosen, he took a gamble to wriggle free. Dimitri quickly gained his composure before strengthening his grip once more.

"I don't think so, Felix," Dimitri said, "I've been wanting to see your smile all day; I'm going to enjoy this,"

"Claude's definitely rubbing off on you," Sylvain commented, "Not in a million years would I ever hear you say something like that."

"Well, it's true, is it not?"

Sylvain fondly shook his head as he glanced back at the giggling duke, his heels scrapping at the snow beneath him.

"Sylvahahain, enohohohough!" Felix cried, "Let me gohohohoho, you bohohohoar!"

"Maybe... if you call me by my actual name," Dimitri said, "Then I'll consider letting you go!"

"Oh, yohohohou jeheheherk!"

"What was that?" Sylvain asked.

When Sylvain heard this, his hands dropped to the duke's waist, causing Felix to give a small buck and a light squeal.

"Sylvahahahahain! Nahahahat thehehehere!" Felix cried, "Hahahahehehehe! Enohohohough!"

"That's no way to speak to your king, Felix," Dimitri said, "Instead of calling me boar, please, call me by my actual name."

"Over my dehehehehead bohohohody!"

Sylvain sighed before pulling away.

"Well, I've done all I could do," Sylvain said, "I mean, I could get him to break by tickling in one spot, but why don't you do it, Your Majesty?"

Sylvain grinned at Dimitri, who gave him a quizzical look.

"And what spot would that be, Sylvain?" Dimitri asked.

Sylvain smiled as he leaned over to whisper in the king's ear. The sinister grin that spread across Dimitri's face could put fear in Claude. When Dimitri glanced down at Felix, the young duke shuddered with a nervous giggle.

"H-Hey, w-wehehe... can talk about thihihis..." Felix giggled through his pants.

Dimitri hummed in thought as he and Sylvain prepped Felix. Now, Sylvain had Felix's hands pinned above his head while Dimitri rested his hands on the duke's sides.

"Sorry, but no," Dimitri said, feigning regret, "I'd much prefer it if you laughed."

Before he could protest, Felix erupted into deep, adorable laughter as the young king scribbled under his arms.

"AAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHA!" Felix laughed, "YOU BOHOHOHOHOHOAR! STAHAHAAAAP!"

"That's not his name, Felix," Sylvain said, "You know how to make this stop,"

"YOU SHUHUHUT UHUHUHUP! AND LEHEHEHEHET ME GOHOHOHOHO!"

"Which do you want me to do, Your Grace? I'm only capable of doing one thing."

Felix let out a cackle as he thrashed in Sylvain's grip. Dimitri found himself smiling at the young duke's face. Felix never looked happier, his cheeks a similar tint of red matching Sylvain's hair, tears of mirth dotting the corners of his eyes; Dimitri thought he'd never see Felix look this happy again after losing his brother.

"COME OHOHOHOHON!" Felix laughed, "PLEHEHEHASE! I CAHAHAHAN'T! HAHAHAHAAAHEHEHE!"

"Just say His Majesty's name, and I'll let you go." Sylvain said.

Felix growled through his laughter, but when Dimitri hit a sensitive spot, Felix cracked.

"DIMITRIHIHIHIHHI! PLEHEHEHEASE!" Felix cried, "IT TIHIHIHIHICKLEHEHEHES! HEHEHEAHAHAHA! DIMAHAHAHAAA!"

When Dimitri heard his childhood nickname, the young king chuckled and stopped the tickling, leaving the young king breathless, his shallow breath visible in the chilly air.

"Felix, do you know what you called Dimitri?" Sylvain asked, releasing the other.

"What...?" Felix asked through his pants.

"You called him Dima."

Felix's eyes widened before he turned to the young king to see him smiling and nodding. The young duke's blush returned, but it was redder.

"I-I didn't mean to," Felix said, "It just slipped and-"

Before Felix could say anything more, Dimitri embraced him tightly.

"You don't have to explain yourself, my friend," Dimitri said, "All I have ever wanted from this was to see you smiling again, but I guess I got more than I had originally intended."

Felix felt his body relax in his king's embrace. When Felix felt tears well in his eyes, he returned the hug with a smile.

"I love you, you boar." Felix said.

Dimitri felt tears of his own well in his eyes as he embraced Felix tighter. Sylvain smiled and sighed with contentment.

"Guess my work here is done." Sylvain said, standing up.

Before the redhead could walk away, Felix grabbed his arm and pulled him into the embrace.

"You, too, dunce." Felix said lovingly.

Sylvain smiled and embraced his childhood friends, his brothers in arms. The three young men stayed like this for many minutes before getting up and continuing to assist the townsfolk with the party and tree lighting. Every so often, Dimitri would glance at Felix and see the young duke smiling and laughing without a care in the world like he did when he was a young boy.

"There's that smile I've missed so much..." Dimitri said.

[treacheryinblue]

God (of death) Complex

Chapter 3 Preview

Here's a little snippet of the next chapter since I know people are ready to see what's in store! It's just a mini conversation between Noah and his demon lackey, but I like it because it's the first we're seeing him interact with someone that isn't the main 'you' character. This chapter is going to be very different from the last two, and I'm really excited about it.

ANYWAY. Thanks for listening to my rambles.

PREVIEW BELOW THE BREAK.

“That soul is not meant for this land, my lord.”

Silence was given as a response. 

“She is not destined to be here, and you know what will hap-”

“Yes, I am well aware of the consequences to my actions.” Noah heavily exhaled, though he appeared uninterested in the conversation. 

Sitting atop his throne, black and sleek, one hand gripped the arm rest while the other was bent and lifted to his face. He examined his nails, further showing his boredom. 

“Please forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn, my lord, but…the Light Ones are not happy. It has been nine times now and each plays out just like the last.”

A growl was emitted from him, dark eyes flickering to the creature who stood below. “I do not need you reciting my failures to me, demon.”

Noah couldn't bear to think of how you had been ripped from him countless times now. Pried from his hands. Stolen away. You had spent centuries together, longer than any human could dream of living - if one could call you alive - but he knew an infinite amount of centuries more would never be enough. He needed forever. 

“If the Light Ones think I'm going to give up just because they look down upon my doings, then they are sorely mistaken. Maybe they aren't as all knowing as they like to remind us of every chance they receive.” He spat with disdain.

The demon clamped his mouth shut in fear that he may further anger the embodiment of darkness sitting before him. This is how they remained for a long moment, neither speaking, but the demon holding many questions on his pointed tongue. 

“‘My lord…” he cautiously began after a moment. “Might I ask…what is it about this girl that you're so drawn to? You encounter humans everyday, thousands of them, but none have made you so…”

“Weak?” Noah finished the demon’s sentence for him, his eyebrows quirked. 

The demon immediately fell to his knees, his jagged forehead pressing to the marble floor as if to already begin begging for forgiveness. 

“No! I would never say as such, my lord!” 

Noah shook his head as his focus returned to his nails, just as the ruby encrusted dagger appeared within his grasp out of thin air. 

“There's no need to grovel,” he exclaimed while turning the dagger, inspecting every inch of the blade. “I have become weak when it comes to her…but I don't have an answer for you as to why.”  

It was still a mystery even to him. 

“Does Death itself not deserve the chance to love and to be loved in return, though?”