Chapter Text
In the soft, amber haze of Lloyd’s bedroom, the air was charged with the intensity of their shared desire, a palpable energy that rippled between them. The wooden walls of his modest home on the outskirts of Zephyr Town seemed to hum with the tempo of their passion, the creak of the bedframe a steady counterpoint to their ragged breaths.
Lloyd hovered above Gretel, his lean frame tight with exertion, his obsidian black locks falling in silky strands around his face, brushing against her flushed cheeks as he moved. His red eyes, usually sharp and reserved, were dark with lust, fixed on her with a look that made her heart race. He thrust into her with a deliberate rhythm, each deep stroke drawing a shuddering moan from her lips, her body arching beneath him in a desperate dance of pleasure.
Gretel’s hands were tangled in his hair, her fingers gripping the soft strands tightly, anchoring herself to him as waves of ecstasy coursed through her. Her teeth sank into his shoulder, a sharp bite that made him hiss, the sting mingling with the pleasure as she cried out in a raw, trembling melody.
“Lloyd—oh gods, Lloyd!” she gasped, her words muffled against his skin, her breath hot and uneven. The sensation of her teeth on him sent a surge through Lloyd, his hips snapping forward with a particularly forceful thrust that made her pull back, her head tipping against the pillow as a loud moan tore from her throat, her purple eyes fluttering shut in bliss.
Seizing the moment, Lloyd dipped his head, capturing her parted lips in a deep kiss, his tongue plunging into her mouth to swallow her moan. His tongue danced with hers, a hungry edge to the kiss as he relished the way she melted into him, her body pliant beneath his. He broke the kiss just enough to whisper against her lips, “You’re so beautiful, Gretel.”
His gaze roamed over her, drinking in the sight of her in the throes of passion. Her cheeks were flushed a deep pink, her blonde curls a wild, tangled halo around her head, strands sticking to her sweat-dampened forehead. Her purple eyes, blown wide with lust, shimmered like amethysts in the evening light as she looked up at him, her lips parted in a soft pant.
The sight of her, so undone, so utterly his, made his chest tighten with a fierce, possessive love, his thrusts growing more erratic as the heat in his core coiled tighter, his own release looming closer with every pump.
“Lloyd,” she moaned, a caress that sent a shiver down his spine, her hands sliding from his hair to clutch at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she writhed beneath him.
The sound of his name on her lips, laced with such raw need, made his cock throb inside her, his rhythm faltering as he felt her pussy tighten around him, her body teetering on the edge of climax. She’s so perfect—it’s driving me wild, he thought, his heart pounding, his body aching to bring her over the edge with him.
They were both so close, the tension between them a taut wire ready to snap—when a sudden, loud knock at the door shattered the moment, the sound echoing through the small house like a thunderclap.
Lloyd froze mid-thrust, his eyes widening as the realization hit him like a bucket of cold water. “Dammit,” he cursed under his breath, growling in frustration as he buried his face in the crook of Gretel’s neck, his breath hot against her skin. Felix—I completely forgot he was coming over today.
The memory flooded back in a rush: Felix, the mayor of Zephyr Town and one of Lloyd’s closest friends, had ordered a batch of mithril for a town project and was supposed to pick it up tonight. Lloyd had prepared the package earlier, setting it on the table in his living room, but the moment Gretel had arrived—her playful smile and teasing kiss igniting a fire in him—everything else had slipped his mind.
What had started as a simple embrace had quickly escalated, their clothes discarded in a trail from the living room to the bedroom, their bodies now tangled in the sheets, lost in the throes of passion.
“I’m so sorry, Gretel,” Lloyd mumbled regretfully as he slowly pulled out of her, both of them shivering at the sensation of their bodies parting. The loss of her warmth around him made his cock twitch in protest, still painfully hard, his arousal refusing to subside.
Gretel let out a soft whimper at the feeling of emptiness, her thighs quivering as she caught her breath, her chest heaving with each pant. She giggled breathlessly, her voice light despite the pink still staining her cheeks, her amethyst eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s okay, Lloyd,” she said, her words warm and teasing as she propped herself up on her elbows, her gaze flicking to his erection with a playful smirk. “Looks like you’re having a hard time, though.”
Lloyd groaned, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands running through his hair in frustration as he shot her an annoyed look. “Not funny,” he muttered, his red eyes narrowing at her, his face also flushed from their interrupted intimacy. His cock throbbed insistently, the ache almost unbearable, and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to will it away as another knock sounded at the door, this one more insistent.
Gretel’s smirk widened, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes as a wicked idea took root. Oh, this’ll be fun. She slid off the bed with a grace that belied her still-trembling limbs, her feet padding softly against the wooden floor as she sauntered over to the pile of their discarded clothes near the foot of the bed.
Lloyd watched her, his brow furrowing in confusion, until she bent down—not to pick up her own dress, but to grab his long, black robe. “Gretel, what are you—” he started, his ruby eyes widening in alarm as she slipped the robe over her shoulders, the fabric draping over her smaller frame. She tied the belt around her waist with a clumsy knot, the robe’s sleeves dangling past her hands, the excess fabric pooling around her feet.
The sight of her in his clothes, her hair a mess and her cheeks still glowing with the aftermath of their sex, made his blush deepen, a fresh wave of arousal surging through him despite the circumstances.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get the door,” Gretel chirped as she flashed him a cheeky grin, her purple eyes dancing with delight. She gave him a playful wink before skipping out of the room, the robe trailing behind as she headed for the front door.
“Gretel, wait!” Lloyd called after her, panicking, but she was already gone, her laughter echoing down the hall. He cursed again as he scrambled to his feet, stumbling toward his dresser. She really is going to be the death of me, he thought frantically, his heart racing as he yanked open a drawer, fumbling for a quick change of clothes. He pulled out a simple white shirt and a pair of gray pants, his hands shaking as he hurriedly dressed.
But he was too late—Gretel had already reached the door.
A gentle evening breeze slipped in as she swung the door open with a flourish, her smile as bright and cheerful as ever, though her appearance told a very different story. Lloyd’s robe hung loosely on her, the black fabric contrasting with her pale skin, the belt barely holding it together, the hem dragging on the floor behind her, collecting faint traces of dust as she stood there. Her golden curls were a wild tangle, strands sticking out at odd angles, and her cheeks glowed a deep rose, a lingering sign of their earlier passion, her lips slightly swollen from their kisses. The scent of their intimacy still clung to her, a subtle hint of sweat, chamomile, and floral notes, and her eyes sparkled with mischief and satisfaction.
Felix stood on the doorstep, his tall, muscular frame filling the doorway, his top hat and colorful attire standing out against the simplicity of Lloyd’s home. His blonde hair and beard were neatly groomed, and his green vest and red scarf added a festive flair to his appearance—but his usual jovial demeanor was replaced by shock as he took in Gretel’s state. His hazel eyes widened behind his glasses, a flush creeping up his neck as he registered the oversized robe, her messy hair, and the telltale blush on her cheeks, the implication hitting him immediately.
“G-Gretel?” he stammered, his voice higher than usual, his hand dropping to his side as he shifted uncomfortably. “I, uh…I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Gretel tilted her head, her cheerful smile never fading, though the impish sparkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement at his reaction. She couldn’t help but notice the way he turned crimson, a tiny part of her feeling a flicker of sympathy for the poor mayor—but the hilarity of the situation quickly won out, and her grin widened.
Poor Felix, but Lloyd’s face is going to be worth it. “Hi, Felix!” she chirped, her voice as bright as a summer day, completely unfazed by her disheveled state. “What brings you here?”
Felix’s flush deepened, his gaze darting to the ground as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I-I, uh…I’m here for the mithril I ordered from Lloyd,” he spluttered, his words tumbling out in a rush, his embarrassment palpable. “He said it’d be ready tonight, so I thought I’d…pick it up.”
Back in the bedroom, Lloyd had finally managed to pull on his shirt and pants, the fabric sticking to his damp skin as he ran a hand through his tangled hair, his ruby eyes wide with mortification. He pressed his hands to his face, his palms warm against his red cheeks, and let out a muffled groan, the sound vibrating against his fingers. She’s absolutely shameless, he thought, his heart pounding as he overheard the exchange, his own blush deepening to match Felix’s.
The image of Gretel standing there in his robe, her appearance screaming of their interrupted intimacy, made him want to sink through the floor.
“Oh, the mithril!” Gretel exclaimed, clapping her hands together, the sleeves of Lloyd’s robe flapping with the motion. “I’ll get it for you!” She turned and shuffled over to the table in the living room, the robe dragging behind her as she moved. The wrapped package of mithril sat where Lloyd had left it, neatly tied with a piece of twine. She picked it up, her movements light and carefree, and returned to the door, holding it out to Felix with a beaming smile. “Here you go!”
Felix took the package with a mumbled “Thank you,” his eyes still averted, his flush now spreading to his ears as he clutched the package to his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, the implications of her appearance and Lloyd’s robe too much for him to handle. “I’ll, uh…I’ll see you later,” he muttered, already turning to leave, his boots scuffing against the ground as he speed-walked away, eager to escape the awkward situation.
“Goodbye, Felix!” Gretel called after him, her smile widening as she watched him retreat, his top hat bobbing with each hurried step. She closed the door with a soft click, snickers bubbling up the moment the latch fell into place. She doubled over, clutching her stomach as peals of laughter filled the house, the sound as clear as the chime of crystals, echoing off the wooden walls, her body shaking with the hilarity of the situation.
Back in the bedroom, Lloyd sat on the edge of the bed, his face still buried in his hands, his cheeks burning with embarrassment and amusement. Gretel’s laughter reached him, a melodic sound that tugged at the corners of his lips despite his mortification. He let out a quiet chuckle of his own, the sound muffled against his palms, his shoulders shaking as he finally gave in to the absurdity of it all.
She’s absolutely shameless, he thought again, but this time, the words were laced with a deep, abiding affection, his heart swelling with love for the woman who could turn even the most awkward moment into something light and joyful. But I wouldn’t have her any other way. I love her more than anything.
Gretel’s laughter eventually subsided, and she straightened, wiping a tear from her eye as she turned to head back to the bedroom. She leaned against the doorway, her eyes twinkling as she looked at Lloyd, her smile softening into something tender. “You should’ve seen his face, Lloyd,” she said, her cheeks stained pink from both their sex and her laughter. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Felix so red.”
Lloyd lowered his hands, his eyes meeting hers, a small smile playing on his lips as he shook his head. “You’re…impossible,” he said, his tone full of exasperation and fondess, his blush still lingering as he stood to meet her. He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, the robe bunching between them as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his hands settling on her hips. “But I love you for it.”
Gretel melted into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his waist as she tilted her head to look up at him, her smile radiant. “I love you too, Lloyd,” she whispered, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt as she nestled closer, their shared warmth a quiet comfort in the aftermath of their chaotic evening.
Gretel pulled back slightly, her amethyst eyes gleaming with a familiar spark as she traced a finger down Lloyd’s chest, her touch sending a jolt through him. “You know,” she purred, “we never did finish what we started.”
Lloyd’s breath hitched, his ruby eyes darkening with renewed desire as he looked at her, heat and lust flooding back into him. “You’re insatiable,” he said, his voice low and rough, but the way his hands tightened on her hips betrayed his own need.
Gretel smirked, slipping out of his embrace to tug at the belt of his robe, letting it fall to the floor in a pool of black fabric, her naked form revealed once more. “Only for you,” she whispered, pulling him back toward the bed, her lips capturing his in a heated kiss.
Lloyd groaned into her mouth, his hands roaming her body as they fell back onto the sheets, their earlier interruption forgotten as they lost themselves in each other once more.
~.~.~
The morning air in Zephyr Town was crisp, carrying the scent of freshly baked bread from Madeleine’s café and the faint tang of dew-kissed grass from the fields beyond. The distant hum of windmills blended with the chatter of early risers, their voices a soft murmur against the rustle of leaves in the breeze.
Lloyd’s boots padded against the cobblestone streets as he made his way toward the heart of town, his robe swaying with each step. His beige scarf was tucked loosely around his neck, the ends fluttering in the gentle breeze, and his blue hat sat snugly atop his obsidian hair, which hung in silky waves past his shoulders. Behind his glasses, his ruby eyes were half-lidded, his thoughts drifting to Gretel, her laughter from last night still echoing in his mind, the way her lips had felt against his, the warmth of her body pressed to his after Felix’s untimely interruption.
A faint flush crept up his neck as he recalled the way they’d tumbled back into bed after Felix’s departure, her body arching beneath him, her breathless moans filling the air as they lost themselves in each other again. I’ll never get enough of her, he thought, a wry smile tugging at his lips, his heart swelling with a love that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
He adjusted the strap of his leather satchel, its weight light against his hip, and focused on his errand: a quick stop at Miguel’s shop to pick up some supplies for the bazaar; new twine for wrapping minerals, a ledger for tracking sales, maybe a bottle of ink if Miguel had restocked.
Lloyd pushed the door open, the bell above jingling in the quiet morning air, and stepped inside. The shop smelled of cedar and dried herbs, with a faint undercurrent of cornmeal from the barrels near the entrance. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars, sacks, and rolls of fabric, while a colorful woven rug lay on the stone floor. A wooden shelf against the back wall held an assortment of goods, alongside crates and barrels, with a tapestry and a vibrant portrait adding splashes of color to the space.
But then he froze, his breath catching in his throat like a stone lodged in a stream. There, standing near the shelf of goods, was Felix, his huge frame unmistakable. He was inspecting a jar of pickles, turning it in his hands, oblivious to Lloyd’s entrance.
Lloyd’s stomach lurched, his pulse spiking as last night’s chaos flooded back—Gretel flouncing to the door in his robe, her laughter ringing out after leaving Felix speechless with the mithril in hand. Oh no. Not now, Lloyd thought, his face heating as he considered bolting back through the door, itching to retreat to the safety of the street.
Before he could move, Felix turned, perhaps sensing the shift in the air, and their eyes locked. Lloyd’s ruby gaze met Felix’s hazel one, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to still, the clatter of the town outside fading, the shop’s warmth turning stifling. Felix’s face reddened instantly, a flush spreading from his cheeks to his ears, and he jerked his gaze to the floor, clutching the jar tightly enough that his knuckles whitened.
Lloyd felt his own cheeks burn, a deep crimson that rivaled his eyes. He instinctively pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the gesture a flimsy shield against the embarrassment pooling in his gut, his fingers lingering on the frames as if they could hide the heat radiating from his skin.
“M-morning, Felix,” Lloyd mumbled, his voice barely audible, the words tumbling out like spilled coins. He curled his fingers into fists as he tried to steady himself, the fabric of his robes brushing against his knuckles a faint comfort.
Felix cleared his throat, his hand flying to the back of his neck, rubbing furiously as if he could scrub away the memory of last night. “Uh…morning, Lloyd,” he croaked, his eyes darting to a random spot on the shelf, anywhere but Lloyd’s face. The jar in his other hand wobbled slightly, the pickles inside sloshing softly, and he set it down with a clumsy thud, the sound sharp in the awkward silence.
The air between them crackled with unspoken discomfort, a shared understanding that neither wanted to address the elephant in the room—or rather, the image of Gretel in Lloyd’s robe, her smile too bright for the situation.
Lloyd’s mind raced, grasping for something normal to say, something to bridge the chasm of embarrassment. Maybe I could ask about the mithril…no, that’s worse. The town project? Gods, no, anything but last night. His throat tightened, his usual composure fraying like an old rope.
Felix, apparently reaching the same conclusion, took a hasty step back. “I—I just remembered,” he said, his words rushed, his hand gesturing vaguely toward the door. “Got a…meeting. Right now. Sorry, Miguel—Lloyd, I’ll…catch you later.” He tipped his top hat in a jerky nod, the motion almost knocking it askew, and bolted for the exit, the bell jangling wildly as he disappeared into the street.
Lloyd exhaled shakily, his shoulders sagging as the tension drained from him, though the flush on his cheeks lingered like a stubborn stain. He adjusted his glasses again, a nervous tic, and turned toward the counter—only to find Miguel watching him with a raised eyebrow, his tanned face creased with curiosity.
The shopkeeper leaned on the counter, his red vest bright against his white shirt, a matching red hat with an orange band snug on his dark, wavy hair. His mustache framed a sly grin as he tilted his head, brown eyes twinkling with amusement, the gold clasp at his collar gleaming faintly. “What was that all about?” he asked, his tone tinged with a teasing edge, carrying the confidence of a man who loved the game of business, always on the lookout for a juicy tidbit to turn to his advantage, especially when it came to his rival, Lloyd.
Lloyd’s flush deepened, his heart stuttering as he scrambled for a response. Nothing happened. Gretel just…answered the door. In my robe. After we—gods, no, don’t think about it.
He cleared his throat, forcing his voice to steady as he waved a hand dismissively, the motion too quick to be casual. “It’s nothing, Miguel. Just…Felix being Felix. Probably remembered some urgent mayor business.” The lie felt thin, but he pushed on, striding toward a shelf of supplies to avoid Miguel’s gaze.
Miguel’s eyebrow climbed higher, his smirk widening into a grin that showed a hint of mischief, the kind that had once tried to charge Lloyd a million gold pieces for a shipment just to test his limits. “Uh-huh,” he said, his words dripping with skepticism as he picked up a small ledger from the counter, flipping it open with a casual flick. “If you say so, Lloyd.” He scribbled a note, the scratch of pencil on paper a quiet reprieve, though Lloyd could feel the weight of his amusement lingering like a shadow, always calculating, always watching for an edge.
Lloyd busied himself with the shelves, his fingers brushing over coils of twine, their rough texture grounding him as he tried to banish the memory of Felix’s mortified face.
Gretel’s going to laugh herself silly when I tell her about this, he thought, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips despite the embarrassment. He could already picture her, doubled over in her farmhouse kitchen, her purple eyes sparkling like amethysts as she teased, “Poor Felix, he’s scarred for life!” The thought warmed him, chasing away the lingering awkwardness, his love for her a steady anchor in the storm of his flustered mind.
He selected a spool of twine, a small ledger bound in brown leather, and a bottle of black ink, its glass cool against his palm as he carried the items to the counter. “Just these,” he said, his voice steadier now, though he avoided Miguel’s eyes, focusing instead on the striped cake on the shelf behind him, its red and white swirls a dizzying distraction.
Miguel rang up the items, his movements leisurely. “Got a big day at the bazaar tomorrow?” he asked, his tone conversational but laced with that competitive edge, as if he were already calculating how his stall might outshine Lloyd’s minerals.
Lloyd nodded, grateful for the change of subject, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah, expecting a good crowd. Need to restock some things, keep the books straight.” He handed over a few coins, their metallic glint reflecting the light as they passed between them, and tucked the supplies into his satchel, the weight settling comfortably against his hip.
As Miguel handed him a receipt, he added, “Say hi to Gretel for me. Tell her I’ve got some new seeds she might like for her fields.” His smile was genuine now, the teasing fading into warmth, though Lloyd knew Miguel’s mind was likely already on his next scheme—perhaps dreaming of a way to impress Mina at the bazaar.
“Will do,” Lloyd said, managing a small smile of his own, his blush finally starting to fade. He adjusted his hat and turned for the door, the bell jingling softly as he stepped back into the morning light.
Outside, the town buzzed with life, the air alive with the distant sound of windmills and buzzing insects. Lloyd’s steps felt lighter as he headed toward Gretel’s farmhouse, his thoughts drifting to her—the way her laughter would fill the room when he recounted this morning’s disaster, the way her touch would soothe the lingering embarrassment, the way her love made every moment brighter.
Felix is a good man, and I hate that he had to see that side of us, he thought, his smile softening with a mix of regret and resolve. But Gretel…she’s my everything, and I wouldn’t trade her for the world.