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@fiendishfinesse asked: 「 SQUEEZE 」 : for sender to rest their hand on the receivers thigh , giving it a squeeze

It's easy to see in that moment how so many fall to devils. Even the strong will of a faithful cleric such as herself could waver under a devil's piercing gaze, honeyed words, and firm, burning touch. The House of Hope and her very thoughts blur in the background for her, her attention stolen entirely by its master currently in her space. A large hand firmly set upon the top of her thigh; too high up for it to be friendly, not quite high enough for it to be inappropriate. Just on the borderline, a taste of more to come. A threat.

Fingers curl around the meat of her thigh, fingertips digging firmly into the soft flesh though not enough to bruise, not yet, and enough to pull her thighs just that bit further apart. His touch kept her in place, had her staring at his hand for longer than needed before lifting her gaze to Raphael's at last, with a brow raised.

The air was hot, dry, and Marcella found herself swallowing, before she dared to speak as she did not want her voice cracking. She would be lying if she said she did not enjoy having Raphael's undivided attention upon her, dangerous as it may be, but she still had to try to bite back at least.

She did not move his hand away, though she doubted she had the strength to move him even if she wanted to. No, she parted her thighs and kept her eyes on his as she leaned back slightly, hands pressed flat to her seat either side of her hips.

"Forward of you." She noted with a small smile, one that did not quite reach her eyes. "Are you trying to get a guiding bolt to the face?" A beat, she could feel his grip tighten, squeeze, but she willed herself not to flinch. "Or... something else? What could a devil possibly want from me?"

#SQUISHY...#fiendishfinesse #something something radiant damage foreplay i remember reading eriukhsdgj

@badnikbreaker asked: "Y'know, Sonic —" She's comfortable here, tucked into his side, sitting beside one another against a tall, old tree. It's so nice out, finally that time of year when it's not too hot or too cold, and it had seemed a shame to go inside just because the pair had finished their run. They point one of those sunny smiles at him. They let the knitting they've been working on fall into their lap. "We've been spending a lot of time together! It feels like we've gotten closer lately, right?" He's letting them touch him more, even initiating contact — it's sweet! Despite the fact that the words might seem like they're laying the groundwork for flirtation, for once, there's none of that. Amy doesn't want anything from Sonic; just to offer their simple sincere, sweet appreciation. "It makes me really happy!"

Sonic doesn’t consider any place to be his favorite place.

There’s some he likes more than others, sure; he could lounge on the beaches of Station Square any day. But when you’re always on the go, and the entire world is your home, it’s hard to pick just one. “Hm?” He cracks an eye open. Amy is warm, both in presence and smile, looking up at him like he’s some important thing. It makes him feel embarrassed.

“Have we?” Sonic lifts a hand, the one not around Amy’s shoulder, and itches the inside of his ear. “… I guess so.”

Closer… whatever that means. Everything is the same as it’s ever been to him. He still visits Tails’ workshop. Knuckles stays up on his island. Eggman has been quiet since… well, since. Amy is here (aren’t they always?).

Here, against this tree, for some number of time he can’t remember. They’ve done this a handful of times, now. Sonic wonders what makes it so special in the first place, but maybe it doesn’t matter. He glances back at Amy, and her smile, and finds himself smiling back. Yeah — it doesn’t matter. This could be his favorite place.

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