"Tsk. Only a dozen of them? And they all died so easily. Honestly… it's not nearly enough."
It had taken her less than a minute to wipe out the small group of thugs.
Dark Seele, savoring the thrill that came with the kill, once again slipped into that familiar, uncontrollable bloodthirsty state.
She glanced at the blood that clung to the blade of the massive scythe she had shaped with her power. If not for the fear that her wife, Seele, would call her a pervert—and the undeniable stench of the filth she'd just killed—she might have considered the idea that the blood actually did stink.
Otherwise, Dark Seele really might've gone ahead and licked it—just to know how it tasted.
"Seele! Don't go after the innocent! We've already dealt with these lowlifes. Let's hold off until we find that guy, alright?"
Sensing through their shared consciousness that Dark Seele's emotions were spiraling again, Lunelle quickly stepped in and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a gentle embrace that carried the faint scent of milk.
But she was also mindful of the simulation's restriction: "No active sexual advances."
Even though she desperately wanted something more to happen with the woman she loved, Lunelle didn't dare cross that line, no matter how tempted she was as she held and comforted her wife.
As that warm scent reached her, the chaos in Dark Seele's mind began to settle, her thoughts clearing bit by bit.
(My wife smells amazing… hugging her feels so good. Too bad I can't make a move. QWQ)
As Seele's condition finally stabilized, Lunelle reluctantly released the embrace—carefully restrained and just a little too proper.
Lunelle had only just begun to withdraw, a fleeting movement meant to slip away quietly — but such a signal never escaped the gaze of a woman like Dark Seele. Especially not when that woman had long since abandoned the idea of letting her prey escape unscathed.
"Hmm? Trying to run away already?"
With a knowing smile that shimmered with charm and mischief, Dark Seele's hand shot out, wrapping smoothly around Lunelle's narrow waist. Her fingers sank in with practiced ease, as if that curve had belonged to her from the beginning. And just like that, she yanked Lunelle back into the heat of her embrace, their bodies pressing together without a breath of space between them.
"A-Ack—!"
The startled cry barely left Lunelle's lips before her own instincts surged. Perhaps out of pride, or maybe desperation, she reached around and grabbed Dark Seele just as fiercely. Her arms closed tightly around the woman's back, their faces mere inches apart, breaths tangling.
"Seele… you… what are you doing…?"
The fluster in her voice was unmistakable — a trembling mix of annoyance and something softer she didn't dare name.
From this close, Dark Seele no longer resembled the sweet little wife she always played. No, her presence now was overwhelming — forceful, commanding — like a domineering CEO who always got her way. That glint in her eye could bend steel.
"My precious Seele," she murmured, her voice low and husky, "I cleaned up your mess like you asked. Isn't it time you showed me a little… appreciation?"
She leaned in closer, letting her lips ghost just along Lunelle's ear. Her breath sent a shiver through her.
Lunelle's cheeks burned. "T-The hug just now… that doesn't count?"
The arrogance that normally filled her chest had scattered like dust. She felt small under that gaze, trapped in an unfamiliar position — and not just physically.
Damn it! I'm the husband!
If it weren't for the accursed rule from the simulator barring her from taking the initiative… with a wife like Dark Seele, she would've shown her exactly who held the reins in this marriage. In minutes, no less.
But reality had her pinned. She could only retreat inward, clinging to fantasy while being thoroughly disarmed by her wife's relentless affection.
And Dark Seele… wasn't done.
"My dear Seele," she whispered, trailing her fingers up Lunelle's side. "You really don't get it, do you?"
With a smirk dancing on her lips, she reached out and gently lifted Lunelle's chin. The soft resistance beneath her touch only made it sweeter.
Their eyes met.
Lunelle's gaze flickered, unsure whether to avert or hold her ground. Her breath caught as she felt the slow, deliberate tilt of her face—guided by her wife's firm hand. Her legs felt lighter, her thoughts heavier.
"What… what don't I understand…?" she stammered, the words barely above a breath.
Dark Seele's gaze darkened slightly, and her lips curved upward like a cat savoring the moment before a pounce.
"A hug's cute," she said softly, "but hardly enough to repay me. Since you're so innocent… shall I teach you how to properly express your gratitude?"
Lunelle opened her mouth to object — but no sound came. Not when her heart was pounding so loudly.
Her wife's face loomed close again, and she knew the look in those eyes. Knew what it meant when that dangerous softness lingered just a second too long.
What followed could hardly be described — only felt.
What followed wasn't a kiss in the ordinary sense. It was more like a slow, deliberate conquest.
Dark Seele pressed forward with an overwhelming force masked in softness, her lips sliding against Lunelle's with a hunger that was both tender and consuming. The first contact was featherlight — a teasing graze — but it deepened fast.
Too fast. Lunelle barely had time to breathe before her wife's mouth claimed hers again, fuller, hotter, tasting her with an intensity that left no space for thought.
Lunelle's knees buckled slightly, and her hands reflexively clawed at the front of Dark Seele's clothes, not to push her away — but to hold on.
Her breath hitched as Dark Seele tilted her head, deepening the kiss until there was no mistaking the wet sound of lips parting and pressing, again and again, slow and deliberate.
A subtle, slick heat pooled in Lunelle's mouth — not enough to be obscene, but unmistakably intimate.
Their breath mingled, their tongues brushing just barely, not quite tangled but lingering at the edge of something dangerously close.
Every time Lunelle tried to retreat, Dark Seele followed, dragging her back into that sticky rhythm, as though she were determined to pull a moan right from her throat.
The warmth between their lips spread to their skin — flushed cheeks, trembling shoulders, the faintest twitch of a thigh muscle. Lunelle felt her heartbeat pound in her ears as she gasped for air, only to be swallowed whole again a breath later.
By the time Dark Seele finally let go — lips slow to part, a thin thread of saliva still connecting them for a moment too long — Lunelle was dazed, trembling, her lips red and faintly swollen.
Dark Seele didn't kiss her so much as consume her — possessive, patient, devastating. It was the kind of contact that blurred the edge between thought and sensation. Lunelle could only clutch at her wife's clothes and try to keep herself together.
Even with their consciousnesses linked rather than their bodies, the effect was all-consuming.
The feedback loop of their spiritual contact was intoxicating in a way no physical encounter could mimic. Like plunging into ice and fire at the same time.
And Lunelle? She could do nothing. Not under the simulator's frustrating restriction. She could only squirm and whimper inside as her wife left invisible trails of heat across every inch of her soul.
Dark Seele couldn't hold back any longer.
That unbearably soft look on Lunelle's face — half-defiant, half-helpless — ignited something ravenous in her. She leaned in, her breath grazing Lunelle's flushed skin, and without a word, pressed her lips to the curve of her neck.
Lunelle flinched, the breath she was holding escaping in a sharp gasp. It was supposed to be just a kiss, but Dark Seele didn't stop there.
Her mouth lingered — open, insistent. She didn't just kiss. She claimed. Lips parted, teeth brushing skin, tongue barely flicking the tender hollow above the collarbone. Then again, lower. Slower. Wet. Each contact left a tingling trace, a subtle sting that would deepen into color by the minute. A mark.
Lunelle's body tensed beneath her, but her breath betrayed her — shallow, trembling, each exhale caught between protest and submission.
Dark Seele's lips traveled, dragging hot trails down the side of her throat, stopping to press a kiss just under the ear, then biting — not hard, but with enough pressure to make Lunelle gasp again and cling tighter.
"You're too quiet," Dark Seele murmured, voice a velvet threat against skin. "Shouldn't you at least whimper a little, my lovely Seele?"
Her hand crept up Lunelle's side, not invasive — just possessive — as her mouth dipped lower still, past the collar, kissing where fabric barely offered resistance. She pulled the neckline aside just enough to expose the pale skin above the heart, then bit down again, slower this time, more deliberately.
By the time Dark Seele finally pulled away, the evidence was all there — soft pink marks swelling into deep reds, lips-shaped bruises blooming across Lunelle's neck and collarbone, each one an unspoken sentence. Her skin was practically glowing from the heat, breaths shallow, lips parted in disbelief.
Lunelle reached up to cover her chest with both arms, not from shame — but from the overwhelming feeling of being seen, touched, owned.
She had once wondered if Dark Seele was born in the year of the dog — because she sure bit like one.
Eventually, Dark Seele drew back, her lips glistening with satisfaction, her skirt fluttering with the movement as she adjusted it with a flourish.
"That'll be enough… for now," she said with mock generosity. "But my sweet Seele is always welcome to keep paying my appearance fees."
Lunelle stood there dazed, her skin tingling, her neck and collarbone flushed with faint crimson marks of affection. Her lips trembled as she sniffled quietly.
[W-Why does my house feel ruined… (╥╯^╰╥)]
She couldn't speak. Couldn't scold. Couldn't even muster the energy to glare.
After all, this was the wife she'd chosen. And even if she was devoured whole, bullied senseless, and left with nothing but dizzy breath and aching pride—she was still hers.
"Hmph… It's only because of the simulator. If I were allowed to take the lead…" she muttered inwardly, teeth gritted.
But her inner voice fell limp.
Even she didn't quite believe herself anymore.
So, with her last shred of dignity gathered like a crumpled handkerchief, Lunelle stood tall — or tried to. Furious. Flustered. Utterly defeated.
And completely unable to look her wife in the eye.
--+--
T/N: Bro might be huffing copious amounts of copium at this point. Embrace the bottom. I was lowkey smiling the entire time editing this. I was lowkey concerned cause I extended the graphic scene a little too long.
Also, I know my own fanfic(not tl) is chopped asf but yall ever read a fanfic where the original characters(Not the mc) is so out of character you can't help but wince? Like I know I fucking nerfed the shit out of sitonai, but at least i tried to keep her personality and the others as well, then you look at other fanfics where for some reason they tweaking.
Just a rant.
Also, I REALLY REALLY wanted to write a Sodom's Beast/Draco fanfic in DxD, cause she's the Beast of 666 if only I actually knew said original content. I watched to season 4 and switched over to fanfics. Makes me sigh in dispair cause the universe is so fucking wide and I can't live with myself if the universe itself is inaccurate asf.
I also wanted to write a Oberon Vortigern fanfic in DxD cause of the possible synergy cause he is an insect of the abyss and there could be some relation to ophis, cause she wants silence, like... you see my vision? But the same issue came up and also Oberon is a complicated character to write in the first place cause he is the Great Liar and in essence hates reality so there's no specific reason or goal I could think of for him to intervene in canon.