The Gamer Chapter 1400 – Fluffy Monday Awakens 4 – AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! (Patreon)

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Momo shouted, as she collapsed to the floor. She pulled her knees against her chest and buried her head deeply between them. Even that failed to hide the red of her face in its entirety. John could still see a bit of her flushed cheeks and the little wrinkles that betrayed her smile.

Plus, the little ‘frrrrrrrt’ of her fluttering wings was a dead giveaway of how she was feeling at the moment.

John reached out, only for his hand to be slapped aside. “No!” she declared. “No! NOOOOO!” Her protests fell on deaf ears. The Gamer manoeuvred around her defences like an assassin player in a MOBA. Once he had her by the waist, it was all over for the fairy maid. He lifted her up and carried her the rest of the way to the new area in the space between their offices.

Momo continued to wail futilely while he wrapped the two of them up in a big, comfy blanket. Pulling it tight around them, he reduced their world to the small hole that their faces stuck out of. Well, that his face and half of hers stuck out of. Momo did her best to hide her dusted cheeks and broad smile behind the warm blanket.

“You can’t just do this to me…” she grumbled.

“I’m pretty sure I just did.” John wiggled backwards. Centimetre for centimetre, he drew the two of them deeper into the fully padded corner of the room. Hard, he leaned against the wall and triggered a mechanism that saw two wooden doors swing closed. The world went dark.

Then, a tiny little light above began to glow. It was barely more than an old flashlight in a dense fog. A few others came to life, illuminating the box in a steadily changing mix of pastel colours. There was nothing in the world except the two of them.

“I’ll always be there to protect you,” John whispered into her ears. “Across a hundred years, and many more, I’ll always let you find solitude when you want it. I’ll always be there to make sure no one bothers you when you’re lost in your book. No harm will come to you. If ever it does, I’ll make sure everyone involved will regret it. Because you’re my favourite fae.”

“MHHHHHMMMMMMMM!” Momo’s high pitched cry escaped her throat despite her clenched lips. She drummed her feet hard on the cushioned floor. A gesture that only turned more overt as he continued.

“The way you lose yourself in your research is adorable. Your blushing in private and confidence in public is adorable. Your every sigh and determined motion is adorable.” By now, the kicking of her feet sent the blanket into fluttering flights. “You’re my beloved Momo.”

“Stooooooop!” Momo buried her face in two fistfuls of warm blanket. Muffled, her voice rang out, “I can’t take it anymore! Dick! Perv! Aaaaaah!”

Her insults bounced off him, for he had no lewd intent whatsoever. Even with her nubile form in his arms, all he felt was the need to hold her. Her scent of wild berries filled the cuddle corner. Her firefly-like wings curved backwards and half-hugged him back. “You can take so much more of my love,” he stated confidently.

In that he was wrong. He could literally see her fuse blow. A puff of pink smoke clouded his vision for a moment and filled his nostrils with the intense aroma of strawberries. Then, Momo’s head tilted to the side and she went limp.

John wrinkled his forehead and nudged her a little bit. ‘Did I just cuddle-break her?’ he wondered. To his relief, she snapped back to consciousness a moment later. “Your fairy shenanigans will not distract me from snuggling.”

“I’m gonna cry.” Momo pouted.

“Because you’re that happy?”

“Yes…” Momo croaked and made good on her promise. The tears ran down her reddened face and John put her into the very depths of the corner, layering himself on top of her while she giggle-sobbed into his shirt. “You better feel guilty!”

“I really don’t,” John confessed, patting her head. “All I feel is blessed that I made this for you.” He backed off a little bit, to clean the tears off her face. “These are the only kinds of tears I ever want to see.”

“Stop being suave. Stop right this instant!”

“You keep telling me to stop yet you keep on smiling,” John teased her. “Come on, Momo, it’s just us in this little world.”

The fairy maid inhaled deeply. She fidgeted with the white cords of her poncho. She glanced away and then back to his face. She said, “I love you… I love you a lot.”

John’s heart nearly melted when she looked at him with unbound appreciation. To even kiss her felt like he would defile something so beyond pure that his hands did not deserve to touch it. When he remained unmoving, she reached out for him instead. Framed his face with her warm hands. Drew herself closer. Giggled when he toppled over and she sat on top of him.

“You can surrender to me a bit more often,” she whispered and kissed him. Her lips were salty sweet. Her body warm and so wonderfully nimble. His arms wrapped around her and did not let go, while her tongue pried his lips open and encouraged him to reciprocate. When the enchantment of her cuteness wore off, he did. Their snuggling and kissing continued, in this little corner that existed just for them. “Yes, you can.”

The words confused John for a moment, then the door of the cuddle corner opened. Through the gap, Beatrice slipped in. She let the mechanics seal them off from the outside and wordlessly dropped on top of him.

John felt it his obligation to recuperate some of the control here. He put his arms around their waists, and pulled them with him into a sitting position. The blanket was soon back over them. It was much too large for even three people. It got hot in the box – in a pleasant way. Like partners huddled up in front of a fireplace in a winter retreat.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” John asked the new arrival.

The passive maid adjusted his collar, until it was symmetrically aligned. “No.”

“You know I was supposed to not interrupt your work, right?” John asked. He had compromised that goal thoroughly on his own, but Beatrice was the first to come out to meet him.

“Statement: I set my own breaks.” The passive maid tilted her head, until her smooth horns brushed against his neck. “I didn’t want to take your time on my own. You already know what I do.”

Of all his women, he certainly was the most familiar with the work of Momo and Beatrice since they worked directly with and next to him. “Still, I should make time for all of you,” the Gamer whispered.

“You are,” Momo said, eyes closed. “But don’t overwhelm me by making my private fantasies true next time.”

“I won’t make any such promises.” John squeezed her petite frame, wanting her closer to him than physical reality allowed. “I think it’s my job to overwhelm you with joy. I don’t think there’s anything else that’s even close to as important.”

“…Bae, can you think of a way I can get upset with that?”

“Response: I can’t think of a way you should get mad at that.”

“Hrumph.” Momo tried to frown. It didn’t even last a second. “I’m not here because I thought about it reasonably. I’m here because I followed my heart. My heart tells me to tease this… big beautiful man that I cherish.”

“Summary: you’re a definitive brat.”

John burst out laughing. The intense up and down of his entire torso stirred the two maids from their blissful still. They raised their heads to escape the constant bumps and turned their heads to smile at him. The two white-haired maids beheld him like he was the most precious thing in the world. Whether that was the reason that he cried a couple of tears or if it was just the intense laughter from Beatrice’s dry delivery.

“God, I love you two,” he stated and wiped the wetness from the corners of his eyes. He pulled them back against his chest. “I love you two so much,” he whispered.

________________________________________________________________________________

Rex Magnar’s spike sunk into the sandstone with the same ease that a spoon penetrated pudding with. Thrown with the right intent, it would have sliced through the entire rock. Instead it came to a halt when the axe side of the halberd connected with the surface. Another showcase of that strange phenomena that kept the fights of high-level Abyssals comprehensible to the human mind, despite the laws of physics they were coming into contact with.

“RUN FASTER!” Metra roared.

John followed the soldiers breaking out into a sprint. As swift as they could, the superhumans crossed through the sandy terrain and jumped into a moat filled with alligator sized tendrils. More than a few were grappled and tossed around. Few managed to wind out of the constricting grasps. Most were tossed back ashore. “I’m not sure I like the way you’re drilling my troops.”

“It’s proper fucking training. Be happy that I’m not employing actually lethal means, you overly cautious softie.” Metra extended her hand to the right. With a couple of drumming sounds, Rex Magnar appeared in it. She rammed the weapon into the dirt, causing a minor quake in the process. One of the soldiers stumbled and caught themselves. “BE PREPARED FOR EVERYTHING!”

John eyed the constant wagging of Metra’s tail. The platinum blonde hairs threatened to whip against him, always reverting course just before there would be actual contact. Still, he could feel the little gusts the motion created. “Well, soldiers are meant to prepare for the worst,” he surrendered that point. “I was more referring to the absurd amount of glee you’re taking in it.”

“I think they have a saying in this age: do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.” Metra rolled her head and stopped, green eyes, narrowing in on someone. Her hand shot forwards, disappeared in a dimension rift for a split second. Out in the training track, one of the soldiers was yanked out of the water. “DON’T YOU DIE ON ME, MAGGOT!”

“I wouldn’t dare, Lady Metra!” the soldier shouted back.

The blonde berserker babe’s tail stopped moving. She clenched her teeth and growled, sharp canines showing. “Lady?” John’s question snapped her out of her anger.

“The FRONTLINE PIGS!” she shouted that at the soldier who was, wisely, booking it. “…They have found out I find it super awkward to be called a lady, so now they are teasing me with it.” She ripped Rex Magnar out of the ground. Cheerfully, it shredded, like a death metal guitar invited to a children’s birthday party, as Metra drew her right arm back.

John just had to marvel at her pose. The way her back muscles popped out when she twisted and bent. Her left extended upwards to serve as counterbalance. Then all of her snapped forwards, a shockwave scattered nearby sand, and the spear hurled almost straight up into the air. Her left almost ended between her spread ankles. Then, she straightened up and all those tensed muscles settled back down, leaving her with her usual, impressive but not bulky physique.

“Lady Metra bothers you that much?” John followed the weapon on its ascent. Metra had chucked it with a lot of gusto. John wasn’t even sure the soldiers could perceive it right now.

“Not when it comes from you,” the brown-skinned blonde stated. Arms crossed, she stared at a point beyond the tentacle pond. “You’re different… my king?” She glanced at him for a moment, to gauge his reaction.

John wasn’t quite sure what to feel, so he felt an atypical emptiness. The revelation from yesterday still sat in his bones. Of course Emrik’s words were just his opinion, but the amount of people that told him he was cut out to be a king was ever growing. Comparatively, the only people that ever said he made for a good president were those that wanted a republic. Whether he was fit for the position never really came up.

“That’s really eating away at you, huh?” With a disappointed beat, Rex Magnar appeared next to her again. Wherever she had wanted it to land, it had never gotten to. Instead, she secured the weapon back in the ground. “Want to… talk about it?”

John loved her for the concern on her face. “I don’t know if I’m holding onto an ideal that’s ultimately doomed to fail,” he confessed. “Look… I want to be like George Washington. Not the real person, the ideal. The hero. The founding father. How can I be that if I can’t do the same thing he did? Refuse the crown because of my principles.” Metra tenderly put an arm around him, while he rubbed his forehead. “But it’s starting to set in that I may be applying mundane standards to the Abyss. In the end, the king’s position is arbitrary, propped up only by the belief of his subjects. But mine? I can actually place a claim that I am ruler by God’s grace. After all, I was born with powers that others cannot compete with. How much more legitimate can it get?” He waited a little bit for an answer. “Not going to answer that?”

Metra’s firm hand massaged his shoulder. “I’m not going to push you in a moment of weakness.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just take it under advisement,” he assured her.

“I said it before and I can say it again: I think your republican ideal is naïve. When the chips are down, people need a strong leader. The mundane may be nice enough to skip that necessity, but the Abyss is not.” Metra indeed said nothing new in that. All of that was the usual that came up when they had this talk. This time, it cut a little deeper.

Metra’s hand glided down his back, then off his body entirely. When he felt it again, her fingers were interlocking with his. He spread his hand wide open, then held on tight. The tall, ancient weapon bumped him with her shoulder. Beyond them, the sun was setting. Monday would soon face its end. Tuesday would be a continuation of this.

That thought cheered him up. It was a simple, basic pleasure in his life that his harem was now so large he couldn’t visit all of them in their workday between sunrise and nightfall. That brought with it a few concerns, but he would be lying if he said it did not scratch the most primal of itches to have this many women around him. When he had set out to do this, to exploit the lack of strong morals in the Abyss for this very basic goal, he couldn’t have imagined to succeed that much.

“What’re you thinking about, hm?” Metra must have noticed the sudden rise in his mood.

“Just counting my blessings,” he told her. “One – Jane. Two – Aclysia. Three – Gnome. Four – Salamander. Five -…”

Metra playfully flicked his ear. “I get the point.” She kissed him on the cheek. Her pinkish brown lips were so incredibly soft. “Whatever you do, just keep being you. You’re… you’re more important to me than resolving the king candidacy.”

John was genuinely awestruck by those words. “That means everything to me,” he told her.

“It better.” She just stared at him for a little bit, then dragged him off to the side. “We’re going home.”

“Don’t you have a drill to oversee?”

“The fuckers know what I want from them, they wouldn’t dare to slack off just because I’m not around.” Metra continued to drag him in the general direction of the black walls that isolated the multi-terrain Drilling Field from the rest of the Military District. “I’m tossing you into that stupidly enormous bed of ours and then we’re making love.”

John could not refuse her when she was that determined.