Here in your dimly lit room, a much more romantic and comfortable place than the simple white bone slab that he had in his abode of dust and ash, you two were coming to terms with your blooming affections. You were on the edge of the bed and Death was standing between your legs. Both of your hands surveying the other's body in an admiring sort of way. He wasn't all that rough with you, but gentle wasn't the word to describe this treatment either. He was firm and his hands were callused underneath this wrist wrappings as you expected. What you didn't expect was for his hands to be so warm over your comparatively smooth skin, or for him to palm you so lovingly. He must really trust you to be doing any of this with you, and you must really trust him considering what you've seen him do to the legions of heaven and hell. He was the Charred Council's best enforcer after all so there was no need for tenderness, only hardened tact and scrutiny.
When it came to you though, Death was different. Yes, his sarcasm was still just as biting, but his body language was a lot less aggressive and somewhat protective. He often brushed his large hand over your shoulder or rested it on your upper back when you stood to admire the world around you. You and he had come a long way from those first forms of physical contact: throwing you over his shoulder, dragging you around by the upper arm, and the occasional light shoving.
At this moment now, he was the epitome of tender. You'd never expected to become so intimate with him, but time and communication have a way of turning things on their heads.
He roused you from further thoughts on the differences of yesterday times and today's moments with hands trailing up your clothed back and down your thigh; His body was asking that you confirm or deny his request and his eyes, gleaming jewels in the darkness of his shadowed face, were determined to read your thoughts.
You peered back, eyes bright and full. You had never seen his eyes hold so much emotion. They were honest about his feelings, even if his words and actions were not, and right now they were worried. Was he making the right move in furthering this relationship, could he trust you to not betray his love, is he really worthy of your praise and devotion; He was a vile being who had destroyed worlds and he thought himself unworthy of your affections as well as the love from his family.
You ended his doubts by bringing a small hand from his broad shoulder to caress his gaunt cheek. His eyes closed and he turned his head into your hand, reaching with his own to grab your wrist as he softly pressed his full lips to it.
It was nice to see his full face. You could appreciate the gentle curve of his nose, his strong brow, and the soft look of his lips. He wasn't ugly by any means, in fact he was incredibly handsome, almost beautiful. What more did you expect from the unholy mixture of angel and demon dust: Death had a dark, otherworldly beauty all his own that no one but you were allowed to see.
From your wrist, he trailed down your arm, hunching lower and lower to reach your shoulder. Doing that looked uncomfortable, and you knew Death was flexible and agile as any unearthly being could be, but you didn't want to risk it. You pulled away and retreated further onto the bed, reaching out for him to follow.
He did follow, and in doing so looked like a big prowling panther, eyeing you smugly from the foot of the bed as he crept up to you, his huge shoulders rolling smoothly. Your face flushed at the idea of an animalistic lover, and Death smirked in response, loving your now shying air. He'd never met someone who was so submissive or sensitive to his will. You weren't a quite slave, but you didn't threaten his authority the way others did. He could tell he'd be the dominant one in this sexual environment, that he held the power to sway your body, and it ultimately turned him on all the more: it made him more predatory.
Death loomed over your reclined figure, smoldering eyes striking you speechless. He was ever so much bigger than you and he was inhumanly strong to boot, an intimidating idea that sent shivers plundering your body. He placed his hands on either side of your midsection as he dipped his head down to kiss paths from your hips upwards. Each kiss was loving and hungry, nudging your shirt further up your body. A few times he nipped at you with soft fangs so much like the ones his younger brother War had, or he'd lightly lick and suck with open mouth kisses, only sending ripples of excitement through you.
Once he reached the area just beneath your brazier, he lifted his eyes to burn holes into yours. You'd never taken the time to study those fiery pools, but now you saw them in a mesmerizing haze. He could render you speechless with a glance if he wanted. You were paralyzed and he smirked ever the more seductively.
"How many times have you done this before, Death?" Your voice was unsure and a little intimidated by how overwhelming his change of attitude was once you and he began the liaison. I know I'm probably not his first, but he seems to be a little too experienced at this for someone who seems to hate interacting with others more than he has to.
"Little one, there is still a lot about me that you do not know" he breathed back. His voice was even more low, and the hoarseness of it let slip many of the things yet to come that late evening, "you are not my first sexual encounter, but you are the only one that I have ever truly cared for and will care for until the end of my days."
The butterflies in your stomach turned to frantically flapping caged birds and your heart thundered so loudly that Death looked down at your chest in surprise. From there he lowered his massive upper body gently down onto you and laid his head between your breasts. He in no way hoped to calm the rapid palpitations, but instead chose to listen to them, smiling softly. He'd no way of knowing that the human creature he'd met all those years ago in the ravages of a demon infested earth would be beneath him right now, or that he they would be the only one to have his heart in their hands. He felt vulnerable and simultaneously secure in the dim room.
In the Nephilim culture, before the end of their days, sex was something done out of bodily necessity and, on rare occasion, love. There were breeding programs similar to the way humans now breed animals to get better select traits, but there were also brothels where one could go to alleviate stress. Death himself was chosen for the breeding program, but he hardly participated in it the same way he hardly visited a brothel or had a long lasting partner. It wasn't that he didn't want it, but rather that he didn't feel the need to have sexual relations as often as others or that his time was spent bettering the plans for battle or training. Any acts of sex were usually by himself or with some passing whore that he used purely for their body. That's what they were there for, wasn't it?
This was different for him though. You were not some "passing whore", but the person that, in his incredibly long life, was the only one he'd considered a dear friend and potential significant other. He'd be damned if he would treat you any less than what you were to him.
Now as you and Death were naked and caught in the throes of passion, each calling the other's name in hushed breaths and boisterous howls, the sex he was used to having so long ago was wiped from his mind. He didn't care if you were inexperienced compared to his previous affairs. All that mattered was your beautiful body writhing beneath his own pale form. Until now he never really noticed much about your body, so it was like seeing it for the first time to him. His burning eyes lingered on the stretch marks around your hips and thighs, the moles up and down your arms, and that scar that you received from falling off your bike that you prayed to God would fade away: He believed all of you was beautiful and he'd never change a thing about you.
Right now, he was above you, his body was large and dark in the orange, misty candlelight. Since he was much taller than you he wasn't able to kiss you, so he settled for hunching over you and petting your hair. The horseman's elongated fingers twisting and tangling in the messy, sweat matted locks at the crown of your forehead and large, muscular arms shielding you from prying eyes that weren't even there. His narrow hips, thrusting home into your wet heat and then snapping forward as he reached his hilt to punctuate each movement. Occasionally Death would slow down and bury his length so deep into you that you nearly felt like you were merged at the groin with him. Every movement was passionate, the way that a singer dedicated a song to another in the audience, or the way a lonely, broken soul professed their undying love in a letter never to be sent: his body was romancing yours as both of your figures melted and pooled into sticky, lust-scented beings at the epicenter of your sexes. Once Death had enough of the romantic lovemaking he pulled back and rested on his heels, letting his hard member pull from your dripping core.
From his position he could see everything for what it was: the bed sheets were tangled and pulled up, but not removed from the corners; crimson, silk covered pillows were scattered about the head of the bed, framing you haphazardly; your hair was disheveled and your entire body was layered in thin sheens of sweat whereas he was hardly exhausted, although his and your breath was ragged and uneven. He watched the way your chest heaved and fell and then let his eyes wander downward from there to your legs, both knees pulled up and leaning together to hide your entrance from view.
Death's senses were keener than any humans so the smell radiating from between your listless legs only led him to grow more aroused, and the tired, glazed over look in your eyes told him that he needed to keep things interesting. To meet his new agenda, he slipped back off the edge of the bed, circling around to the foot to eye you from a distance. He looked back at you and now his eyes were more piercing than smoldering. Death was a man of action and independent charge, so now was his time to take control and show you the ways in which only he could please you.
Staring up at you from under his heavy brow, he reached his hand up while the other rested on his hip, and he curled his fingers so that only his pointer motioned you to him.
"Come hither, Little one. Let me satisfy you in ways that you've never known with any other," command and purpose echoed in every single word, and you did exactly as you were told, no questions asked. This pleased him greatly and now you were kneeling before him on the foot of the bed.
"Sit in front of me and lay back." Death said the word and you again obeyed, letting your legs dangle off the bed before him.
From here he let his arms fall to your hips, fingertips deliberately grazing the soft flesh. Afterwards letting one of his hands meander up your body, stopping to tease your soft buds until they hardened back to the nipples he'd fondled earlier in the escapade, while his other hand ever so gingerly traced back over his own pale thigh to the tip of his erection. He let the hand on you do the walking while the other did the talking, softly running his thumb over the deep, plum colored glands and smearing the precum over the head, while the rest of his fingers and palm kneaded steadily at the shaft, allowing more translucent juices to slip out of his tip. Seeing you so disheveled and unkempt, a great contrast to what you were earlier, and knowing that he was the sole reason made him thirst for more contact and more carnal intimacies.
After massaging his length he removed said hand to reach forward, grabbing your legs to pull you closer to the edge to meet his hips, afterwards placing his hand back on shaft to trace his throbbing tip across your entrance, dipping into your sex only to wet him a substantial amount. From there he traced back upwards to nudge at your tender clit. At the time you were sensitive enough that even this miniscule contact made you whimper and undulate, trying to grind harder into him. Death put a quick stop to that by using his unoccupied hand to still your hips and graze his rough thumb over you as one might do to calm a frightened animal.
"Patience, friend. I'll let you have all the fun you crave in due time," he removed his hand from your hip and the other from his shaft to take one of your legs in each hand, spreading them further apart, the smell of you stirring up his urges in agonizing waves. From there the mighty nephilim man wrapped both of your legs around his hips, reached underneath your back to wrap his large hands around you and lifted you upwards, pulling you into an upright position and fitting you just above his length in an erotic balancing act.
Since Death was roughly a foot, maybe two taller than you, you were higher up than you expected to be, so the only logical thing to do was to grab tightly to his broad, scarred shoulders to keep you from falling.
"I won't let you fall, Little one, now let go of my shoulders and let me take care of you." He was calm in saying this, almost nonchalant about it, which gave him even more of an authoritative air than he had before.
You did as you were told when he finally had his hands in comfortable positions, one resting in the middle of your upper back for support and the other sitting firmly behind you on your lower back to guide you. After your hands slipped from his shoulders you felt him let you drop to sheath himself inside of you to the very hilt. This new position along with the help of the forces of gravity had you fall at just the right angle for him to hit your sweet spot on the first go, a low groan fleeing your plush lips.
"Good girl," he murmured,"now say my name." He lightly bounced you.
You whispered his name airly.
"What was that," he nudged again a little harder than the first time,"I can't hear you."
Again you breathed his name in a daze of pleasure. Unsatisfied with the response he growled and snapped his hips into you, and you pulled towards him with a surprised yelp.
"We'll be here all night, until you tell me what my name is," he stated calmly. To help you come down from that sudden surge he let his thumbs rub circles on your back.
Once soothed enough, you raised your eyes to meet his and said, with a voice as clear and determined as a bell on the noon hour chime, "Death."
"Good girl."
His lips turned up at one side in a smirk and he rewarded you by lifting you once more and thrusting into you roughly. You tossed your head back in writhing ecstasy, mouth open in a silent scream and your hands found their way to his forearms to grip for dear life.
Death leaned back to see the most perfectly erotic view before him: your breasts bouncing vivaciously, the light sweat catching the candlelight just enough to make you glow rapturously, and your head pulled back to reveal to him that pretty throat of yours.
Death loved your throat and neck. He loved to nuzzle them because the aroma, one that was purely you, was strongest there and it completely engulfed his senses every time he caught a breath of it. In the current moment all he wanted to do was lean into you to nip and suck at the tender flesh, leaving marks that could be easily hidden by wearing one of his cowls but visible any other time. He'd do it on purpose just so you'd have to wear something of his and also to mark you up.
His thrusting continued, only becoming deeper and more sensual with each passing moment; Death almost completely stopped snapping his hips into you and instead began rolling and grinding them, his trimmed hair grazing over your clit as added stimulus. The entire time he growled low and hotly, sometimes grunting and tossing his own head back when he'd feel your tight walls clamp acutely around his shaft.
You on the other end had never felt such a heat in your life. It was roaring flames that licked and slithered up your body and deep into your core. The room was relatively warm around you, but the blossoming heat between you and Death's legs made you feel weak at the knees. Thank goodness the horseman was the one standing and not you. You were sure to fall otherwise. Before the clothes came off you didn't think much of his size and you assumed that he'd be roughly average; Although, you never took into account that Death was not a human and was naturally all around much larger than the average man, including his nether regions.
Right now, you were on the verge of exploding with immense pleasure from being explored my his impressive length. It was a soft periwinkle hue that sprouted from his semi-unkempt hair and gradated into a more plum magenta as it neared the head and it honestly surprised you that you could take him all the way inside of you.
He brought you back from your musings to place you down on the bed, still pumping into you. You looked up half confused and half disappointed that he'd slowed considerably and the fact that the new position made him lose that delicious angle at which he was previously ravaging you from.
"D-death, what are you-"
"I'm growing tired of that position," he still held you mounted on his shaft and was slowly crawling with you cradled against him up to the middle of the California King sized bed, "how about something a little less demanding of me and more pleasurable for the both of us?"
You assumed that meant you would be on top, but you still didn't feel all that ready to top Death. You honestly couldn't see him as a bottom either. He seemed much to dominating for that. Thankfully you were wrong as he knelt in the center pulling you into a straddling position. He leaned back some so that he could nearly be at eye-level with you and he pulled you forward into a kiss, using the one hand that was helping him to crawl along the satin sheets (the same one that rested before that on your lower back) to hike you up into him by the rear. He even threw in some groping while his hand that was previously on the upper portion of your back slid up to wrap itself along the side of your throat behind your head and ear. Death's lips never parted from yours during the entire shift as he proceeded to dive in and give you wet, passionate, open-mouthed kisses, only pulling back slightly a few times to nibble at your jaw. He hummed and groaned when you pulled him into more urgent kisses, tangling your hand in his raven locks simultaneously letting the other slip to his toned back. The way you gripped him was almost desperate and he was humbled that you desired him both romantically as well as sexually.
The time for wanton kissing was over now as he pulled away from you and replaced the hand in your hair back to your upper back. He then lowered you down onto his length again, a sigh escaping both of you, as he bent you further back until your head met the bed. The entire time he let his hand slide down you to meet his other at your hips. This kept you both connected at the hips.
"Are you ready?"
You nodded as he proceeded to roll his strong hips into yours. This angle let him massage that sweet spot more directly with the tip of his shaft. The entire time he stared entrancingly down at you from heavily lidded eyes, letting his hand graze over your arching body while the other held your hips up. He wasn't sure if you had any more strength in your knees after how he ravaged you earlier so he ground your hips into his for you. He was making love at this moment, which was all he had left to give after the instinctual urges subsided. All that was done while standing was for him, and now was the time to focus on pleasing his significant other, and what better way than to pamper them sexually.
The roaming hand that explored your body retreated back to him now, and he used it to reach between your sexes to rub over your hidden nub. Doing this almost sent you and him reeling: you arched your back and called out his name, and your walls clamped down harshly on Death's pulsating manhood. He knew you would get tight, but not this tight. Although he was surprised, he continued rolling his hips and massaging your clit, reveling in you nearly screaming his name and almost losing your mind. It amused him, and at the same time it brought him closer to the edge along with you.
Not long after you felt yourself orgasm harshly and suddenly. Death was surprised too because there were no signals before hand that told him you were going to come, only your moaning turning into half formed words and garbled noises, and it was so intense that he nearly did himself, but he held on as tremors of pleasure shot through you.
You were lost in an ocean of ecstasy that you didn't even notice him removing his thumb from your pulsating clit. Now his hands were gripping either side of your hips and he was harshly rolling his hips into you, riding out your orgasm to bring his own. It wasn't soon after that he was coming hard into you, his body hunched hard over yours. You could see his eyes screw shut and his lovely mouth hang open letting out a low, throaty groan you didn't even think he could make. The entire time his broad shoulders shook while he buried himself in your wet heat one last time before stilling himself and flinging his head upwards, one last moan of your name fleeing him as his raven hair floated back down to his shoulders.
Ragged breaths were no more as slow, deep breathing took their place. Both you and Death had finally come down from your euphoric highs of the final orgasm that shook each of you to the core and back, and now there was stillness in the air. The two of you laid on your sides staring at one another.
"Are you ok?" you asked sleepily. It seemed that Death had hints of concern encrypted on his features, but that also could've been the moonlight highlighting his brows in ways the extinct candles failed to do. Either way, it was the first time you two had shared a sexual bond and there were sure to be a few bumps along the way and you wanted to be sure there were very few hiccups.
"The real question is, 'are you'? I honestly never expected our relationship to go past just being traveling companions, but that's obviously not how the world works. It's also been brought to my attention that being in such intimate standing puts you at risk as well as myself." Now Death was resting on his elbow, propped up and looking a little disdainfully at the foot of the bed into the darkness of the room.
"Death," now you were propping yourself up in an attempt to get closer to him, "I think we'll be alright. I am perfectly ok if you don't want to have a relationship right now, or-"
"It's not that I don't want this!" He was glowering at you now, his hair falling a little wildly about him and his eyes blazing harshly,"wanting this is the problem, (y/n). I need to uphold the balance of countless worlds, but having someone tie me down will make that difficult. Don't you understand? I shouldn't want this."
You were taken aback at the sudden mood change, and his glowering startled you into silence. Now he was getting out of bed and putting his pants back on, muttering irritably about needing some air. All you could do was look after him as he stepped out the sliding glass door that led to your back porch from your cozy bedroom. He didn't even close the door behind him, which let in a fierce draft that ghosted angrily over your bare skin.
By the time you'd put some clothes on and made it out to the porch, he had already progressed to the middle of your moderate backyard and was crouched low with his head in his hands. You paused, and wondered whether you should approach the angry horseman. Instead however Death stood up and turned to go back to the house.
His eyes were soft and somewhat weary, and he looked sad when he pulled you into a soft one armed hug. The entire time he avoided your gaze staring up at him, preferring to look off somewhere else, while the hand that was holding you close rubbed between your shoulder blades absently, most likely for his comfort rather than your own.
"Things will be ok, Death. Whatever you're happy with, I'm happy with too. The only thing that matters to me now is your happiness," you were so concerned for him right now that it nearly brought you to tears knowing you would be the cause for such inner turmoil for him.
"I know," he paused to look down at you, sliding his free hand up to caress your face, " and I appreciate your willingness to make me happy," Death leaned in and spoke gently above a whisper:
"Thank you, friend."