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renhanaschewtoy · 12 days ago

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Favorite Bartender

This one also got away from me OTZ I hope I did okay with Strade. Pardon my translation all I have is Google. I'll write Ren the cosplay handler when I get back from a con next week. If you're at Colossal North lmk! 💖 NSFW MDNI

There was something endearing about dive bars, there was something exclusive about them in their own right. People knew each other, there was a decorum of understanding. Regulars were their own type and new folk, out of towners, well- they usually couldn’t appreciate it fully. The Braying Mule was well and good, always rife with interesting people, but nobody could be “on” all the time. Strade knew that. In his own time, on the quiet nights he decided to be out but lay low, not on the prowl, not looking for an easy bright eyed mark, he was in this dive bar. The name didn’t even matter, the sign was so worn it had been taken down in a storm years ago- the owner just never bothered with it. Regulars kept business in order and they helped keep the place in check. Strade included himself in that roster. Granted nobody really knew him, all by his design. But he was endearing, he was liked here. Maybe it was just nice to shed away a little, wear a different mask.

And sometimes, even he had to admit, the acrid smell of the place reminded Strade of his own little projects. Pushing open the door, Strade moseyed up to the bar, giving a little nod and grin to a few other regulars who greeted him similarly or with a small wave or raise of a glass. Settling on an old worn stool, he leaned on the sticky lacquered wood and inspected the beer taps.

“You can stare at ‘em from sun up to sun down, they still haven’t gotten that funny sounding beer you keep trying to pitch.”

A teasing lilt of a voice draws his amber gaze over to your form shouldering the door behind the door open dragging a bucket of ice to dump into the bin and let the metal lid clatter shut. A grin pulls your lips as always. Ah- you. The feisty bartender who wasn’t afraid to talk shit to anybody, get their hands dirty if need be, keep the establishment and all in it in line with a way that was firm but fair. Admirable. “Ah, liebling, I didn’t know you were working tonight!” Strade mirrors your grin with a warm chuckle.

That was bullshit.

He knew your schedule.

He preferred to be here when you were here.

Though of course, sometimes he had to skip out or change it up so nobody, or you, got wise.

You give a playful roll of your eyes as you deftly pluck a stein and pull a tab with the glass tilted at the perfect practiced angle. A rich dark dark beer sits in front of him on an old cardboard coaster so worn it should likely be trash at this point. “It isn’t the one you were talking about but…you must’ve worn him down. He got a German beer.”

“You spoil me!”

“All I did was pour it.” You chuckle and lean against the back of the bar folding your arms expectantly, awaiting his verdict. Maybe it was because it was your job to serve him but Strade liked the attention you paid to him. It was different from the other patrons and regulars. You didn’t snap at him, your lips didn’t curl in a sneer at him, you didn’t wave him off. No- you paid attention, you listened, you participated. All beautiful qualities wrapped up into once very enticing package. Strade gives a little contented sigh before lifting the glass to his lips and taking a healthy swig, setting the glass down and wiping the foam from the corner his lips with his thumb.

“Hmm…it’s good. Strong.” Strade comments with a nod of approval before lifting his eyes to see you look some pleased with yourself about it. You could say all you wanted, but Strade picked up your tells. You were probably the one bothering the owner enough about getting a keg of something for him. You sweet little thing, you. “Do you know what it is?” He leans forward on his elbows with a tilt of his head as a lazy grin curls his lips. You look away and shrug.

“I dunno something something doppelbock or whatever.” You fib lamely, pretending as if you didn’t care, as if you weren’t pleased with your little stripe of success. Strade huffs a chuckle and leans back on the stool giving a hum of acknowledgement as he takes another sip. “How much do I owe you then?”

“Nah, on the house.” He knew that was coming, you always give him a few freebies here and there under the usual saying that everyone gets a free beer here and there with their regular patronage. But that usually only held after he had one or two, not just off rip. He gives you that disarming smile that makes most women swoon. It isn’t that you’re immune to it perse, rather a little more used to it. A motion of endearment to match your own. Strade watches you idly bustle around the bar, serving other customers, fetching fresh bottles, wiping down the bar- though the latter, it didn’t matter how much elbow grease you used. Occasionally he watches whatever is playing on the TVs around the joint, sipping his beer- of which you never let stay empty for too long. You always insisted it was muscle memory and your years of working but Strade noticed that he was given far better attention.

Drumming his fingers on the bar, he lazily looks to you, “It’s a slow night.” He muses thoughtfully, “Do a shot with me. It’s too lonely to alone.” His grin splits to show a flash of teeth and you chuckle, setting down a few clean pint glasses with a shake of your head as you lift a small, narrow can to your lips.

“Sorry, Strade. I don’t drink on the job.” You admit easily with a languid shrug as you take a few sip, Strade’s eyes glimpsing down to the column of your throat as it works to swallow your energy drink. He wonders what your throat might feel like in his grip, how smooth the skin would be against he callouses of his palms. How your pulse would flutter if he applied just the right amount of pressure. If he kissed that soft, unblemished skin, perhaps left marks. What did you like, he wondered? Did you prefer to be taken soft and gentle, peppered with praise and coos of endearment? Or did you like to be roughed up, bruising grips and mottled marks to decorate your skin while you’re growled filth at and degraded? It was a curious thought he entertained quite often, even so much as when he did take a victim home, sometimes he would imagine you when they were face down in the cheap foam mattress, when their hair was in his hand as he bucked his hips into their mouths…but you’d be different. You were different.

“Mmm…what a shame. You aren’t allowed to have a little fun?” Strade flutters his eyes for a moment to focus back on you, with a curious little brow arched on your face as you caught him daydreaming for but a moment. “Come on, it can be our little secret.” He teases mock conspiratorily, leaning towards you on the bar as. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Ah, I just don’t wanna risk getting messy on the clock.”

“One shot won’t fuck you up, liebling. You’re made of stronger stuff.”

“...You’re not going to let up until I do, eh?”

Strade pretends to look half heartedly apologetic but you both know he isn’t in the slightest. And to him a foot in the door is a foot in the door, sure- a shot on your shift is but an inch and he would just love to take your world. To become your world. He watches you give an exaggerated sigh of defeat and roll of your eyes before a playful smirk pulls your lips while you fish two shot glasses and begin to fill them.

Taking you, owning you, breaking you- it’s all part of the same pipe dream. As tempted as Strade is, as easy as it would be; you had family and friends, you had a wide social circle that was sure to garner attention with your disappearance. And he would be directly connected to you with this little song and dance routine he’s come to adore so. Doing such to you is a thrilling danger he can only flirt with but never act on. And that’s part of the allure of it all, of you. The shot glass is pushed in front of him, some of the liquor spilling over the rim before he picks it up and meets you half way in a cheers. “To our little secret.” He grins and you both tap your glasses on the bar twice before clinking your glass against his, downing your shot with the same practiced ease that Strade does. Strade watches you exhale through your nose before shooting him a smirk. “See? And you’re fine!” He chimes and you roll your eyes playfully before scooping up the dirty shot glasses.

Strade shuffles up beside you, easily stringing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side. He smells of the beer you poured him, of lingering cigar smoke, a cologne of spice and musk that's as oddly comforting as it was masculine. “I'm…uh, just around back that way.” You mutter with a blush rising over your cheeks and pointing towards the back of the block. Strade chuckles to himself and nods, leading and preening at the feel of you leaning against him in kind. His large hand gives you shoulder an affectionate squeeze as you walk with some amicable conversation and goofing as usual, Strade's charm laid on a little thicker as he feigns a slur as if it was all your pours that impacted him so.

Hours tick and tock on by before you’re hollering last call for the bar. Strade settles up his tab and leaves you hefty tip that you, as always, try to give at least part of it back. Strade shakes his head, running a hand through his wavy chestnut hair. “You’ve earned it.” Strade insists as you pout at him before begrudgingly pocket the money. Not that you weren’t grateful but it felt excessive. Not that it mattered to him. “Hm…Let me walk you to your car.” Strade hums as he stands from the stool and fixes you with an expectant look.

“What? I’m not going to be done cleaning up here for like…another hour. I’ll be fine. I do it all the time. I’ve got my means.” You reply, waving him off as you begin to collect empty bottles and discarded napkins or coasters around the establishment. Strade’s huff is brief, but he rolls his shoulders back. Maybe he was being gluttonous after convincing you to break one little rule. “Besides, nobody but staff after we’re closed.”

“We already share one little secret, what’s one more? Surely some help and getting home sooner would be nice?” Strade urges, already beginning to upturn some barstools on other tables and onto the bar counter. Seeing you pause and chew your lip, seeing him already being able to sink his hooks in you, in any little way, is simply delightful. You play tough, you’re feisty, but clearly you like being looked after, like the attention he grants you. But you relent and give him a little smile that curls your lips, looking almost bashful. Strade gets a better look of behind the bar, be a little closer, be a little more alone with you and ultimately that’s all this was about really. Fostering trust, drawing you closer. Though it felt as if he was more in your orbit than anything but he was loathe to give up that control. This could only go so far, after all. Eventually you both finish up with your tasks about closing down the bar and you pull keys out of your pocket to lock up the doors as Strade waits behind you, hands leisurely in his pockets while he takes in the stillness of the night, or rather early morning. As if you two were the only people left alive for a moment.

“Ah, your chariot, liebling. Be safe getting home.” Strade grins as you unlock your car and he reaches for your door with a playful flourish and bow. You snicker to yourself, that ever charming grin pulling on your lips as you move to tuck into the driver's seat. He closes the door as your car rumbles to light and you give a shy little wave before pulling away which Strade returns.

Fuck does he want more. Want you. Standing there in the empty back lot he gives himself a moment to envision you again. Spattered in warm, sticky blood…begging under his hands for mercy…what kind didn't matter, tears beading your lashes, the way your eyes would roll back and flutter in agony or pleasure… Strade’s cock begins to stiffen in his pants as a shaky sigh parts his lips, lidded gaze watching your taillights disappear down the street.

×××

Perhaps he couldn't do all he wanted.

But there were some he could.

Coincidences were funny things, unexpected, sometimes happy, sometimes messy, Strade usually embraced them with his large open arms. The confidence of a man who lived and knew that he could spin just about any scenario to his favor. Tonight was a night he opted not to go to your humble bar. Sometimes, distance made the heart grow fonder after all and Strade couldn’t bear to let you make him go soft. Well…you usually had a different lingering affect but that wasn’t here nor there. There were some critical things he wanted that you simply couldn’t satisfy. Strade knew better. Nobody should shit where they eat. Strade was many things but he wasn’t stupid. So tonight was a little more routine, a little more…designed for the inclinations that you couldn’t sate. But Strade could pretend through perhaps someone who looked a smidge like you.

Oh goddammit. God, of course he would come over and say something- you made a point to make eye contact. You suck in a breath through your teeth and force a smile as you turn to look at Strade; toothy grin on his face and holding his stein close to his chest. “Hey Strade. Yeah, uh…got cut early so figured I’d have a night out.” You shrug, unable to hold his honey colored gaze for too long which seems to raise his brows, a curious twinkle in his eye as he sets his mug down on the table beside your glass as you idly poke at the straw and shift the ice around. The woman he had been chatting up wasn’t beside him but you could feel her eyes prickling at the back of your neck.

At a different bar across town, Strade was posted up a heavy glass stein laden with a dark doppelbock like you had last served him. Fortunate that the bar served something similar but not quite the same. It seemed to be the theme of the night as he chattered up an oblivious and bubbly woman, they had hair just a few shades off from your own- too (short/long) to quite fit you but Strade could make do. Their eyes were a darker tinge of (color) from your own, their smile didn’t carry that unspoken sarcasm, her clothes nearly polar opposite but that was the least of his concerns. Those certainly didn’t matter at all. “A shame you got stood up, truly. But I will say- their loss is certainly my victory.” Strade chuckles smoothly as the woman gives a titter of laughter, covering her painted lips with her hand trying to be coquettish. He leans in to murmur the final string of words that will put the nail in the coffin.

“Hey- uh…can I get a (preferred drink)? Thanks.”

Strade would know that voice anywhere. What were you doing here? Today was usually another one of your closing shifts. His attention falters as he looks over to you and catches you glimpsing at him with a rather annoyed side eye before turning your attention back to the bartender. Taking your drink you flash the bartender a grateful smile and slip your tip on the bar before quickly turning on your heel to disappear into the throngs of other people in the bar. Your lips set in a tight line as you skulked over to your friend settled up at one of the tall tables and you leaned against it with a bitter sigh.

You had no right to feel this way, to feel jealous. Strade was a regular, he was a patron where you worked. You weren’t blind, you knew he was good with his words, you knew he was charming. You naturally had tripped up at his charms but felt damn good that you’d never gone ass over tea kettle for them. Maybe it was foolish to think you had chemistry. Maybe it was stupid to have a secret little self rule not to date regulars- after all there were plenty of other bars. But seeing him lean over that woman, being so close to her, that lazy little grin he often gave you, the way the woman looked up at him so enamored…it made your stomach twist in taut knots. Your friend raises a brow inquisitively that you simply shoot them a look that makes them swallow their words as you raise your glass to your lips for a sip.

“Buddy! I didn’t know you would be here! What a nice surprise.”

“A night out, well- I’d say that’s a good reward for you, hm? Be served rather than serving? I could never forgive myself if I missed an opportunity to buy you a drink myself.” Strade places a hand to his heart in playful theatrics that for a moment make you forget your sour mood and a small smile quirk your lips.

“I mean, I’d hate to interrupt your night. You seemed pretty uh…busy.” You’d cringe at the delivery of your own words, a small grimace crinkles your nose for but a moment as your shoulders stiffen. It takes all Strade has not to let smug satisfaction come over him as he hears the bitterness tinge your statement. You were jealous. Oh, he relished in that, he adored it even. You simply had a way of always just making his evenings. Elation rose in his chest as a better opportunity presented itself in you. Sure- your beautiful blood would never paint his basement but if Strade played his cards right, he was more than certain he could make you scream and cry in other ways.

“And miss such an occasion? Please. This was a boring night until you came along. As always.” Strade replies smoothly with a toothy grin, “It isn’t every night we get to be on the same side of the bar.” And with any luck he can get you all to himself. Play the right cards, say the right things, get you wrapped around his finger, or his cock- whatever worked. You return his smile, your shoulders relaxing as you look up at Strade and give a little bob of your head to relent.

“...Yeah, yeah you’re right. It could be fun.”

“Of course it’ll be fun, have you met me?” Strade gives you a little wink before being interrupted by the woman who decides she’s had enough of being sidelined.

“Uhmm…I thought we were leaving?” Her arms wind around Strade’s arm, pressing herself against him with an exaggerated pout, trying to set a tone as you simply look between Strade and the woman, as Strade simply arches a brow to her, and your friend raises their brows to their hairline, sipping their drink with rapt attention as if watching some sort of reality TV program.

“Hmm? Mein Gott, wie peinlich…” Strade mutters for but a moment, his words and tone are genuine though some irritation belies the sheepish look he forces onto his rugged features. “Just a moment, buddy.” Strade gives your shoulder that same squeeze as the nights before as he places a hand firmly on the other woman’s back and leads her away from the table. Your throat grows tight again with an irritated exhale.

The night carries on, you getting a little bolder with each drink, every shared shot as you laughed and joked, growing a more and more affectionate with each little sip of courage Strade was happy to give you. But you were smart, you didn’t want to wake up hungover and with no recollection of this night. You wanted to remember whatever it was that you got from him, be it another simple walk to your car and a night of revelry or if it was tangled up in either of your bedsheets. And Strade was all too happy to oblige, watching you flaunt your mettle in the bar but being careful all the same as not to lose your head. Strade wanted you to cut loose. Wanted you to be as untethered and wild as possible. But maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Your friend had since excused themself quietly- reading the room and sending you a knowing little wink and wave that you gleefully grinned at.

Unbeknownst to you, ever the opportunist, Strade wasn’t willing to let the other woman go either. After leading her out through the alley and cracking her head hard enough to the wall to hear the skull fracture, she was swiftly bound, gagged and deposited in his trunk. A midnight snack for a later date. So when he returned with a reddened cheek, he had an easy story to spin.

“The fuck happened to you? Christ.” You remark, instinctively reaching out to his cheek before retracting your hand.

“Ah…well, she didn’t quite take so well to being told I…wasn’t interested.” Strade remarks with a roll of his broad shoulders and he could almost see that flicker of approval in your eyes that he’d opted to spend his night with you instead.

“Feels like I should be the one buying you a drink.” You quip playfully, nudging him with your elbow, you’re careful with your contact now, you don’t want to seem too eager. And that’s fine. Strade flashes you a grin of pearly whites before slinging an arm around your shoulder again to tug you close in a side hug again.

“No, no, no, I am a man of my word, liebling. Tonight is all about showing you a good time.” Strade chuckles warmly, the timbre of his voice sending a shudder down his spine that he can feel against his built frame. His hand slips from your shoulder to the cinch of your waist this time with a firmer squeeze, possessive. And you leaned in. Like he knew you would.

“I could go for a cigarette right about now…care to join me?” Strade’s voice is low in your ear, warm breath fanning over the side of your neck as he carefully tucks a strand of (color, type) hair behind your ear before his hand slips down past your hip to slip itself into your back pocket. A large hand gropes the plush of your ass through the denim eliciting a sharp inhale from you, a rosy hue blooming over your cheeks as you bob your head and let him guide you out the back door as the crisp night air meets your exposed skin.

“I didn’t know you smoke.” You look up at him curiously as Strade tucks the two of you into the cover of an empty side alley.

“There’s much you don’t know about me yet, liebling. But I could say the same for you, no?” Strade’s eyes glance to the side before returning back to you, leaning against the brick wall so cavalier, so unaware of what Strade could do to you, all he wants to do to you.

But he would take this, there was an outlet for later.

Sweet serendipity.

Your eyes drift up as you see Strade’s frame looming over you, silhouetted by the moon. Suddenly aware of how close he is to you, that you can smell his cologne again and your breath hitches slightly before you swallow thickly. “...Stra–mmpf!” His name is barely off your tongue before his lips crash onto your own. Hungry and all consuming as Strade descends upon you, devouring you as he presses you back against the cold brick wall, pinning you to it and the bulk of his body. His teeth nip at your lower lip, demanding entry that your foggy brain is powerless but to comply to. You can taste the bitterness of beer on his tongue and he can taste the sweetness of whatever you had been ordering on his tab. Strade’s groan is swallowed as your arms lift to string around his neck, fingers carding through his hair and nails raking against his scalp. He feels your back arch, pressing your body closer to his own, Strade lets a low growl at your willing surrender as he shifts a thigh between your legs, applying pressure to your aching core. Strade’s lips leave your kiss swollen lips to let you pant and catch your breath, rivulets of spit connecting your mouths as your lidded, glassy eyes slowly lift to Strade.

“Look at you, liebling…” Strade coos almost mockingly and it makes something tighten in you abdomen as the vice grip on your hips moves you lightly as if to help you ride his thigh that pulls a ragged moan from your throat. “Mmm…needy, hm? Don’t think I didn’t see that…that look from before…” Strade mutters as he dips his head to kiss along the curve of your jaw down to your throat, teeth nipping and tongue laving at the spots to leave a litany of marks in his wake. Little mewls leave your lips as you squirm under his grip, wanting to be closer, trying to form words but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. “...Don’t be embarrassed. I liked it…I’m flattered.” Strade purrs as he feels your hips buck against his thigh eagerly, hands fisting his wavy tresses that sends shockwaves straight to his cock that strains against the zipper.

Large hands drift to the button of your jeans, popping them open and the draw of your zipper being pulled down that makes your lashes flutter. “W-Wait…woah, St-Strade…not here, I-”

“Mmm? Why not here?” He teases, dragging the fabric down the smooth skin of your thighs that you suddenly tried to clamp shut. “No, no…” He tutts softly, prying them back apart, “Wouldn’t this be just so perfect? We are in private…and if someone were to see, well…” His tone is alight with amusement, “They could be jealous instead…that I have you.” Your nervous eyes can’t tear themselves away from the sight of Strade crouching between your legs, forcing you to lean back against the wall in nothing but your underwear that he moves about to expose your throbbing, eager sex. “Behave, liebling…I don’t do this for just anybody.” And that might be one of the truest things he’s ever said. Control was always a given, Strade to take what he wanted, perhaps you made him feel…generous. All the attention you’ve fawned upon him in your own way, how pliant you showed him you could be- and only for him, that was something that deserved to be rewarded. To melt you, make you more malleable in his hands. His tongue traces shapes and patterns along your sensitive flesh, one hand keeping your thighs apart before one disappears to nudge a finger at your entrance before easing a finger in, crooking it against that spongy spot of nerves before thrusting slowly as he spelled his own name with his tongue in a way that had you fighting against bucking your hips.

“F-Fuck…St- shit..! Strade…!” Your breath fans out in ragged pants as you watch him lave attention over a bundle of nerves paired with a thrusting digit that almost has your knees buckling. “...’m gonna…!” You keen eagerly, lashes fluttering as he feasts upon you wetly, soft sounds in the alley with your muffled moans as you bit down into your knuckle to feebly stifle your wanton sounds. Pressure builds and coils tight in your belly, flirting with the edge of euphoria until Strade bites the inside of your thigh eliciting a yelp from you. “The fuck?!” Strade stands up fast, with a dexterity and agility that didn’t match his size and stature, that had your body falter slightly against the bricks. Strade’s hand holds your chin in place as he looks down at your lips and your furrowed brow. Your pleading was so sweet, so beautiful…god- he could make you beg more. But for now…well, Strade has his ways, as always. “Strade, please…” You groan and he seems amused all the more.

“Open your mouth.”

“Wh..huh?”

“Open, liebling. I won’t ask again.” There’s an authoritative edge to his voice that has your core throbbing, leaking as you’re exposed in the alley. The thrill of it all sending lightning through your veins as you slowly part your trembling lips. Strade gives a low, rumbling hum of approval before spitting onto your tongue making heat flood your cheeks and a humiliated whine in the back of your throat. “Swallow. You should be grateful…you taste so good.” Strade watches you close your mouth, your throat bob slowly as you swallow and sigh before your breath is stolen from your lungs again in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moan greedily. Parting for air is brief as you feel large calloused hands gripping your waist to pull you further upright, shuffle you around until your front is pressed to the brick, the fat of your cheek pressed to the cold bite of brick but Strade seems to mind the pressure and strength he holds over you as you’re bent, pants now pooled around your ankles but you’re too far gone to care. You arch your back with purpose, pressing your ass back against his hardened cock with an eager obedience that Strade adored so.

“So good for me, liebling…like you were made for me…” Strade huffs as you hear the soft clink of his belt buckle coming undone, a calloused hand groping the fat of your ass before shifting your underwear to meet with your jeans below you before you feel the bulbous head of his cock press against you. The hand on your ass moves to grip your hip and keep you steady while the other trails up the beautiful curve of your spine, up the nape of your neck before his fingers tangle in your hair, the grip is firm enough to sting a little but not hurt. Strade could if he wanted to, temptation was there most certainly but he’d go slow for you. Breaking you in piece by piece with rough affections that would leave you satisfied. He could feel how eagerly you were, how badly you wanted this, and how readily you responded to his means. You whine with his fingers in your hair, pressing your hips back and urging him in. And that’s all Strade needs, to have you wrapped around him. And wrapped around him you will be. Until you are bent and broken, full and delirious; treated better than anyone one else. You were something different, something special. Untouchable but in a way immortal to Strade.

Maybe you could be something… special and more permanent.

He was already flirting with something similar in Ren back home but you…oh, what fun it could all be. Thoughts for another day.

With a sudden snap of his hips, Strade buries himself in you with a brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs and has you choking on air as your body quivers at the sudden intrusion. “Ich kann fühlen wie du dich nach mir sehnst (I can feel you aching for me)…”Strade huffs with a smug smirk curling the corners of his lips as he sets a ruthless pace, the wet sound of skin colliding with skin, his heavy sac slapping against you with each push of his hips that you reciprocated in kind as your teeth dug into your lower lip trying to keep your sounds hushed but your body betrayed you. Strade bent over your back nipping at your ear as he stilled to more shallow thrusts to torture you further, “Just imagine, Liebling…someone seeing you spread out here for me…” He lilts in that low silken tone that has your walls clenching around him, fluttering with each filthy, honeyed word that drips from his lips. “Just a perfect little cock sleeve…just for me, yes?” Punctuated by a deliberate roll of his hips that has your lashes fluttering and eyes threatening to roll back into your skull. A sharp tug to your hair leaves your mouth agape as you tighten around his dick again with a breathy groan. “...Say it.”

“Sh-shit…please! Yes, please!” You nearly sobbed, desperation and want clouding all rational thought as you begged Strade, giving him the allowance to do as he pleased with you. Soft mutterings in his mother tongue left his lips; an assortment of praise, of filth, obscenities as his thrusting became staccato before a long, low growl parted Strade’s lips, muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Spilling into you with rivulets of thick, viscous cum while your walls milked him greedily, your own orgasm threatening to have your knees to collapse around you but Strade was quick to move his thick arms around your middle to keep you up, keep you in place as he pumped you full of his cum until it dripped out of you obscenely, forming a small puddle on the concrete. The vacant alley was only given life by the two of you panting raggedly to catch your breaths, Strade’s grip still a vice you wouldn’t be able to break from.

“Hhnngh!...fuck…just for you!” You manage to choke out pleadingly, trying to push your hips back but Strade halts entirely in a way that makes you whine.

“You can do better than that.”

“I d-don’t…wh…uh…” The brick digs into your palms as you try to collect your addled thoughts, of what words might appease him, “Haah~...mmm…J-Just for you, Strade.” You try as his name seems to be all that can fill the folds of your brain; his taste, his smell, the feel of him felt ingrained into you.

“That’s better…” He croons to you, however the feeling of you throbbing around his aching cock was just as torturous for Strade but he could be patient from time to time, when it counted anyway. Impulse won most of the time. “Taking me so well…” his breathing labored as you could feel him pressed to your back, hips pistoning with newfound vigor as Strade’s hand left your hair to close around your throat. No pressure is applied, simply relishing in the feeling of your erratic pulse as he fucks all coherent thought from your brain as he uses the leverage to bring your face to his in a sloppy kiss. All tongue and teeth, as if to consume you whole, that you would be devoured. “Mnnngh…hah…sucking me back in like that…such a slutty little hole…” Strade growls against your mouth as his hips slam against your ass so hard you were certain you’d be bruised by the end of it. “...fill you to the brim…” He huffs, a deep flush had risen from his throat to his cheeks, a heady look that washed over his features as sweat beaded on his brow dampening the curls that fell over his forehead.

“F-Fuck…” You breathe, slowly raising your hands to rest on his forearms, giving them a little tap, “I just…I can’t…” You were still trying to collect your thoughts and you could almost feel him smirk against your skin as you felt his breaths warm your sweat slicked skin.

“...Maybe I can interest you in a nightcap? At my place?” He hums, dislodging himself from your depths with a deep grunt as he watches you quiver and leak. You seem to take stock again, remembering where you are, as you quickly reach to tug up your underwear and jeans, pulling your shirt back down as Strade tucks himself back into his pants and adjusts his belt. You look so pretty like this, embarrassed but thrilled, debauched but dressed again- the tell tale signs of what- or rather who, happened to you, evident on the outside and inside.

“Huh? Oh, no…I don’t think so.” You breathe with a little chuckle and Strade looks at you, a dark and almost hollow look upon his face but for a minute that you seem to misinterpret. “Just cause my place is closer. C’mon.” You give him that fond, disarming smile as you dare to reach for his hand and lead him to the parking lot that has the brief uptick of annoyance assuaged from Strade entirely at your quick turnabout. He pushes a small smile on his lips before raising a hand to cup your jaw before holding the back of your skull and pressing another searing kiss to your lips.

“Give me your address and get ready for me…I just have to stop home very quickly. But I will be there.”

“If you stand me up, I’m pouring you Malort every time.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, liebling. You said so yourself, you’re just for me now.” He flashes you grin that holds an underlying meaning you can’t quite ferret out, but you giddy stride to your car to do as your told for a promised nightcap.

#boyfriend to death #btd #btd strade #ykmet strade #ykmet #btd strade x reader #strade x reader #boyfriend to death strade #strade #ykmet strade x reader

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unluckywisher · 4 days ago

Text

-> Audiovisual references <- -> AO3 Link <-

Summary: You go with Nero to a Wanderer Convention (the LaDS equivalent of Comic-Con) and shenanigans ensue after you win a cosplay contest...

Content: MDNI Porn with plot, hanging out with Nero, tension between you two, a bunch of cliche situations, Carter cameo because yes, experienced dom!fem!Reader, virgin extremely sub!Nero, coworkers to lovers, handjob, fingering, blowjob, p in v sex with protection (cowgirl to cuddling), overstimulation (crying), pussy eating, pegging, aftercare.

Word count: ~15k (this got out of my hands so fast) (+ extra at the end)

A/N: I wrote this for me and the other 3 freaks in the fandom who like Nero. I had so many ideas and scenes in mind but it honestly felt like too much for ONE fic so... Don't be surprised if I write more stuff for Nero in the future. I'm far from done. Mwah <3

There was a stillness in the air, uncomfortable for anyone who could feel it. In this case, most of the Hunters in the room could, except for the one who had caused it.

Nero had barged into the floor where you all worked, waving two pieces of paper high in the air, yelling, “I got free tickets for the WandererCon, and they let me bring a +1, so who wants to come!?”

It had been so out of character for him, to be so loud and cheerful, that you all had turned from your desks to stare at him. The question now was, who wanted to go with him? He was the only one that liked Wanderers to that extent.

And so, a silence fell across the room. His expression started to falter, realizing how embarrassing it was to yell such a thing to his coworkers, and the lifted hand with the tickets began to plummet.

“Me! I wanna go!” You jumped, feeling nothing but pity for the poor guy.

He brightened up again, “Really?”

You walked up to him, giving Tara a look, and nodded. “Yeah, when is it?”

Back to his usual introversion, but motivated by your display of interest, he presented the ticket to you. “This weekend… It lasts the whole two days, b-but! We can go at whatever day and time is best for you…”

You took the ticket. It was a bright blue piece of laminated paper with a drawing of a chibi Wanderer waving glow sticks, the words ‘Come wander through WandererCon! Weekend pass for 1. Only valid if presented with its twin ticket.’ were written in glittery white. He was holding an identical one.

There was a choice to make. Clearly, Nero wanted to spend the whole weekend at this event, which would mean sacrificing all of yours for his happiness. Would it really be that bad? It was a once-a-year event, and the guy didn’t really have friends outside of forums to go to this with.

“I’m completely free this weekend, so let’s make the most of it!” You smiled.

Blush creeped up his face, mouth opening and closing a couple of times, fighting the urge to assure you that - No, it’s really okay if you don’t want to spend the whole weekend there - because damn it, he did actually want to do that, and since you were offering so nicely…

“Okay!” He finally exclaimed, clutching his ticket tight.

“We can discuss the details later, we have to go back to work or Jenna will think we’re slacking.”

“R-right, yeah, of course…” He stumbled over to his desk, glancing at you once over his shoulder before disappearing behind his wall of monitors.

On your way back to yours, Tara rolled his chair closer, whispering, “That was nice of you. You know, I doubt he would have complained if you had only offered an hour of your time.”

“It’s fine. I really didn’t have plans for this weekend, anyways.”

“Have fun. And good luck with Nero… He’s probably going to be very excitable.”

You chuckled. “Thanks. I’ll buy you something.”

Hours later, it was time to head back home.

You turned off your computer and walked over to Nero’s. He was typing up a storm and didn’t notice you approaching. An extensive document analyzing the material and composition of Wanderer’s body-formed blades, and whether or not they can be considered an exoskeleton. You recalled Jenna asking for such a report earlier, but you didn’t expect a whole dissertation about it. Squinting, you could see that there were… 143 pages of text, all written today.

“Damn, fast fingers…” You muttered, before realizing you had said it out loud.

The typing stopped abruptly. “What?” He swiveled in his chair, face pale in shock, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Nothing! I just, um, came here to say ‘I’ll text you later to discuss what we’ll do tomorrow’, so, yeah, message delivered. I’ll leave now.” You waved goodbye, smiling awkwardly.

“Okay.” He nodded, waving back. He was still recovering from your words, though he couldn’t tell if he had heard correctly.

You arrived home and sighed. Were you truly ready for the activities of the next two days? Only time could tell.

After having dinner, now relaxing in your living room, you opened the messaging app. You couldn’t remember the exact moment you two had exchanged phone numbers, but this would be the first time you had texted each other, and the revelation made you strangely self-conscious about what your introductory message should be. Shaking your head, you went for something simple.

-> CLICK HERE TO PLAY THE TEXT MESSAGES! <-

Your patience be damned, you were determined to help Nero have a good time at the convention no matter what. Setting the phone down, you walked to your closet and rummaged around for the Lumiere costume, which was pleasantly clean and ready to be worn.

Goal in mind, you went to bed, ready for whatever the weekend would bring.

The alarm went off, signaling the start of your (most probably) eventful day. You rolled out of bed, had breakfast, took a shower, and commenced the Lumierification.

In theory, it was simple, but it took you a minute to manage to fully zip up the dress since you couldn’t reach, and the thigh highs refused to stay on your thighs until you used fashion tape, not to mention the mask kept tilting to one side.

Eventually, everything was perfectly in place, hair and make up as well. Just in time, too, since the clock now read 10:30. You grabbed your bag and made your way out.

Parked outside was an unremarkable small gray car, but that was the last thing in your thoughts. Leaning on it with his arms crossed, stood a perfect recreation of a Luminivore, so much so that your first instinct was to reach for your gun - even if you weren’t carrying it.

Whatever cool and composed attitude Nero had went right out of the window once he saw you approach, uncrossing and crossing his arms again only to uncross them and scratch the back of his neck, which he couldn’t, because of the costume, so he let them drop and shifted on his feet.

“You- You said-,” he coughed, sound muffled through the headpiece, “I thought you were going to wear-”

You looked down at yourself. Ooooh, right. He was probably expecting a male version of the costume.

“My bad, sorry for the confusion,” you waved a hand in the air, chuckling, “I guess I’m a female version of Lumiere. Is that okay?”

“Okay?” he said a little louder than intended, “Yes, of course- Of course it’s okay.”

You stepped closer to look at his costume. “This looks amazing, by the way.”

He froze.

“Don’t tell me you drove here wearing that helmet, though, because… That seems dangerous.”

He quickly shook his head. “N-no, I didn’t, I just wanted to show you the whole thing put together…”

“Ah, good,” you lifted your hand to touch one of the glowing ridges on his arm, “You did a great job. Looks just like the real thing.”

“Thanks,” he squeaked out.

You clapped your hands together and smiled. “Well, let’s go! We have a great day ahead of us!”

The noise made him straighten up. He nodded and reached up to take off the headpiece. Under it, he looked like always, glasses lopsided and hair a bit ruffled from wearing the Wanderer’s head, but nothing different. You also took note of the red hue on his cheeks, but you attributed it to the same cause as the others. He smiled and gestured for you to get in the car.

The drive was mostly silent, except for the music coming from the radio. Nero had asked you if you wanted to put on your own playlist because ‘his music taste was bad’, but you shook your head, so he settled for the radio. Otherwise, neither of you talked.

You decided to look up what the event’s activities were. He had probably planned it out already, but you were still curious.

A lecture on Wanderers by a Xander scientist, a card tournament - you didn’t know they sold cards, a Meet and Greet with some renowned Hunters, a cosplay contest, a Twinkle Toys plushie reveal, a DIY Protocore candy station… The list went on. It seemed like people took this more seriously than you thought. There were also many merch stands all over the enclosure.

One of the activities stood out to you, though.

“Are you going to enter the cosplay contest?”

He gripped the steering wheel, “N-no. Why are you asking..?”

“You should! You have a shot at winning with yours.”

“Mmm… I don’t know. I’d have to go up a stage, with so many people looking…”

“It’s up to you. In my opinion, you could win, but I might be biased because we’re friends,” you giggled.

He chuckled, brow a bit furrowed.

An hour later, you arrived at the place where the convention would be held. It turned out that there was a parking lot reserved for those attending, so you didn’t have to go in circles looking for an empty spot.

You got out of the car and stretched, looking around. Quite a few people - some in costume, some not - were already gathering at the entrance.

Nero put the headpiece back on and walked a few steps towards the crowd, before stopping and turning to make sure you were following. He tilted his head in a “coming?” gesture.

Sliding your tote bag up your shoulder, you skipped along.

A queue rapidly formed, with a coordination you didn’t expect from a group of sleep deprived nerds. Some of them looked at you - more like ogled at you. Great.

“QuantumSocialite?” A random guy approached Nero, calling him by his username. His friends gasped and whispered among themselves.

“...Yes?”

“Dude, it’s me, LuxLuxLucis.”

“The Lightchasers mod? Oh, wow!”

“You really wore the costume! It looks insane. You’re a legend. The material looks so accurate, how did you do it?”

“Thank you. I analyzed many Luminivore pictures and samples of their chitinous exterior, then compared what materials would be best to use without risking the quality while…”

Aaand just like that, you stopped paying attention. Instead, you noticed how this guy’s friends kept whispering stuff and giggling while looking at Nero. They were giving you major bad vibes. Pretending to be still listening to the incomprehensible yapping, you shuffled closer and eavesdropped on what they were saying.

“...paid her to come along with him.”

“For sure, he’s chronically online and he made that costume, there’s no way a female is hanging out with him willingly.”

“Wow, you guys know a lot about Wanderers,” you said pointedly, joining Nero’s conversation, “I’m actually learning a lot. I’m really happy I was the one that got to be your +1 and not our coworkers,” you gave him a warm smile.

The whispering ceased, now replaced by confused looks. He was completely still, his thoughts a mystery since his face was hidden.

“If you want to learn about Wanderers, you’re in good hands,” said the guy he was talking to, “He’s the most knowledgeable in that area.”

“I know! He really is. I’m really lucky we came together.”

Nero looked down at his clawed gloves, fidgeting with them. The two trash talkers were staring in anger, which you interpreted as jealousy since they were most likely projecting. Suck it.

Just then, an announcement rang out, stating the opening of the gates and the inauguration of the convention. Everyone got their tickets ready and began entering the place.

People were getting a bit pushy and the crowd got thick around you, so you hooked your arm around Nero’s to avoid getting lost or trampled, feeling safer next to his bulky costume. He jerked his head towards you, then realized why you were standing that close to him, and folded his arm to let you hold onto him better. An imperceptible tremble ran across his body.

You both walked to the gates and presented your tickets.

“Alright, let’s see… Couples’ weekend passes… Everything looks in order! Have fun,” the staff member smiled.

“...couples’?” You asked when he was out of earshot.

“W-wait, n-no, I- I didn’t, I mean-,” he gestured wildly with his hands, “They w-were given to me, you remem-ber, how I said, I said I got them for f-free? But I didn’t want to uhh… Um, to make it weird! At the office! S-so I skipped the fact that they were for, uh, couples…”

You chuckled, “Nero, it’s okay, I was asking out of pure curiosity. I have nothing against them being for couples.”

“O-oh. Okay. Right. Ha…” He visibly relaxed at your reassurance.

“So, what do you want to do first?”

“I was thinking we could walk around and see all the stands. Should be enough time until the first scheduled event…”

“Sure! Let’s go.”

It was a big space with rows of stalls selling merch, but also ‘official’ booths, including a Hunter’s equipment showcase, one for the show Super Hunters - with exclusive art never seen before, another with Lumiere memorabilia straight from Linkon’s History museum, Wanderers’ life-sized replicas…

Obviously, you visited all of these with Nero. Even took a picture of him next to the Luminivore replica per his request. It was cute seeing him struggle to find a good pose.

“The lecture is going to start soon… I’m going to head over there, but if you’re not interested, you don’t have to go.”

“The Xander lecture? No, I’m going with you,” you said with determination. You didn’t tell him that it was because you thought they were shady as hell and this was a good opportunity to get further information about them, but it’s not like he needed to know.

With Nero’s planning, you managed to get a good seat at the lecture hall before it filled up. He took off the headpiece to be able to see better and to avoid bothering the people behind him, placing it on his lap. Both your bags rested between your feet.

A staff member appeared, microphone in hand. “Hello everyone, and welcome to Xander Sciences’ lecture on the nature of Wanderers. Without further delay, let me introduce the man who will be speaking today, Dr. Carter!”

Everyone clapped as the man himself walked onstage. You were immediately on high alert, eyes trained on him.

“Thank you, thank you. It’s a pleasure to be here,” he took the microphone.

The next hour was spent picking at every word he said, trying to find any kind of incriminating loose threads, but it was clear the lecture was well rehearsed and none of what he said was useful to you, even if the way he talked about Wanderers put you on edge.

At the end, you grabbed Nero’s arm and pulled him along, “I want to talk to Dr. Carter for a moment.”

“Okay,” he followed, cheeks pink.

The rest of the attendants walked to the exit, which gave you a clear path towards the stage’s stairs.

“Dr. Carter!” You called out, waving your hand up.

He stopped for a moment, surprised to see you there. He smiled, “Ah, Miss Hunter, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I didn’t know I’d have such esteemed listeners in the audience today,” he extended his hand to shake yours. You didn’t.

“It’s an honor to meet you in person, Dr. Carter, that was a very insightful lecture,” said Nero.

“The honor is mine. You seem to be a Wanderer enthusiast,” he looked at his costume.

“He’s my coworker,” you cut in, putting a little more emphasis on ‘my’ than you intended, “don’t bother trying to recruit him for anything.”

“As cold as ever I see, Miss Hunter. It was a simple observation, I didn’t even say anything.”

“Why did you decide to give a lecture here, Dr. Carter?” You ignored his remarks.

“Why not? I’ve done a lot of research on Wanderers, and I thought it’d be best to share my knowledge with those seeking it.”

You were sure there was something more to this than that, but you doubted he would outright admit it. It could even be something much simpler, shameless Xander Sciences publicity to make people interested in being under their care, whatever that entailed. You hoped people wouldn’t fall for it.

He continued, “Since you’re here, you wouldn’t by chance be interested in a quick chat between us, would you?” He took half a step closer.

You felt a weight around your shoulders, pulling you back. Nero, who had been silently watching, spoke with a frown.

“She clearly wants nothing to do with you. What do you think you’re doing?”

You looked at him, eyebrows raised. He had a very determined look on his face, one you had only seen when someone insulted Lumiere in his vicinity, and to be honest, he was kind of intimidating. Kind of.

The tension could be cut with a knife. They glared at each other for what felt like an eternity. If it was your turn to say anything, they were out of luck, because you had no idea what to say. Finally, Carter stepped back and slid his hands in his pockets.

“Have fun in the convention, Miss Hunter. And your Wanderer pet too,” he smirked.

He walked away, leaving you both huffing at his arrogance. No, actually, as you looked at Nero, you discovered you were the only one huffing. He was tomato red.

“You had more things planned for today, right?” You snapped him out of it.

“A-ah, yes,” he pushed his glasses up, “let’s go have lunch.”

There were food trucks stationed outside of the convention center. The walk helped Nero calm down, though he couldn’t seem to look you in the eye. He wished he could put the headpiece back on, but it was a pointless action since you were about to eat and he’d have to take it off again.

After some deciding, you settled for skewers of deep fried chicken that were easy to eat standing up. You chose the honey sauce, he chose the sweet and sour sauce. For something so simple, it was delicious - the queue you had to wait was definitely worth it.

“Do you want to try mine?” You held up a skewer to him.

His eyes darted between it and your face, blinking.

“I mean, we got different flavors, so…” You shrugged.

At that, he shook his head like he was getting rid of his thoughts, then nodded.

“Okay. I’ll trade you- Mhmph!?”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence - ‘one of my skewers for one of yours’ - not that you had heard the beginning of it in the first place. All you heard was him agreeing to try yours.

You shoved the skewer into his mouth.

It took him a moment to understand what just had happened, but when it dawned on him, he turned red again. You were confused as to why he was staring at you instead of biting.

“...”

He bit down and gently pushed your hand away.

“How is it? Good, right?”

“Y-yes…”

“Can I try yours now?”

He lifted a skewer to give it to you in hand, but you-

“Aaah…” You opened your mouth expectantly.

The chances of him surviving this weekend decreased with every minute he spent by your side. Alas, he moved the skewer closer to your mouth with a trembling hand. You met him halfway and bit down on it, causing him to flinch.

You tore off a piece of the fried chicken, relishing in the taste with a “mmmm” as you chewed. By this point, he was fully looking away, covering his mouth with his gloved hand; it was so difficult to keep a clear mind.

“Yours is really good too!”

He hummed in response.

After finishing the food, a few people in cosplay walked past, followed by more, and more groups. The contest must have been about to start.

“You’re really not going to participate?” You asked.

Nero shook his head. He had put the helmet back on, to feel less ‘exposed’ more than anything.

“Is there any way I could convince you? What if we went together? You wouldn’t be alone,” you pulled out your phone, “I read there’s exclusive merch as reward for the winners that won’t be obtainable otherwise, and, look, there’s even a surprise prize for the couples’ category.”

You swore you heard him inhale sharply.

“We already have the couples’ tickets, don’t we? What’s the harm?”

You knew you were pushing him a bit too much, but you were sure that deep down he wanted to join the contest, all he needed was some bribing convincing, and limited merch was sure to do the trick.

“…Do you really want to join?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. Unless you think my costume isn’t that good. I don’t want to bring our score down.”

“No, no, no! Your costume is perfect! You look perfect. It would be great if we went together, actually…”

It was crazy to you that he got flustered over the smallest things but was able to say that to you with no trouble. Maybe he didn’t notice what he just said.

“Great! Let’s go register, then!”

Following the cosplayers, you walked back inside towards the hall where the contest would be held. They all looked fantastic, from many other Lumieres, to Wanderers of all kinds (a girl dressed as Heartbreaker was so cute), to characters from the Super Hunters show. All could be winners. But you looked to your left to the nervous mess that was walking alongside you, and you were certain that he would score the highest.

Names written, you were given the number 34 to go onstage. While you waited for your turn, you made sure everything about your costumes was in place. You even managed to convince him to practice some poses.

“I’m not sure about this…” He fidgeted with one of the protruding crystals on his elbow.

“We’re already inscribed, you can’t chicken out now.”

“I… There’s so many people here…”

“Nero,” you swatted his hand away so he wouldn’t ruin his own costume, “forget about them. Don’t look at them. Just look at me. We’re going to crush this, okay?”

He nodded faintly.

“When we go up there, keep your eyes on me if you want. Pretend the judges don’t exist.”

“O-okay.”

And so he did. When you two went onstage, his eyes didn’t stray from you. Not as you unsheathed your sword and struck a pose, not as you pretended to fight him, not as you gave a final smile and bow to the judges, not as you grabbed his arm and dragged him off the stage. The thing was, hadn’t you told him to keep his eyes on you, he still would have. He had been marveling at you from the corner of his eye whenever he had worn the helmet.

“You did great, Nero!” You clapped, giddy. “We’re gonna win for sure!”

He fidgeted under your praise, “Thank you.”

The rest of the contestants had their turn, which made you increasingly nervous; you wanted to know the results as soon as possible. You had gone through the trouble of convincing Nero, it would be a shame if you didn’t get at least a minor prize.

“And now, on the couples’ category…” The voice of the presenter echoed backstage, “In third place, couple 52!” Applause. The respective couple walked out. “In second place, couple 19!” More applause. They walked out, too. “Before we announce first place, a few honorable mentions…” Oh, come on.

“It’s okay if we don’t win,” Nero said with a soft voice.

You took his hand, “We are going to win.”

You had only taken his hand to calm down your own nerves, excitement and anticipation coursing through your veins, but it also helped him relax slightly, as long as he didn’t think too hard about the fact that he was holding your hand.

“In first place…” You both tensed up. “Couple 34!”

He squeezed your hand in reflex. Time stopped for a second. It wasn’t until a staff member pushed you both towards the stage that your face broke into a big smile, jumping and shaking Nero.

You were received with applause, like the previous couples. They made you walk to the center of the stage, standing between the other two pairs of winners, who were also clapping. The judges spoke.

“Congratulations to all of the winners, and thank you to everyone who participated. If you may all please take off the parts covering your faces so we can see our champions properly…”

The couples beside you took off theirs, you took off the Lumiere mask, and Nero took off the helmet. Applause followed. He smiled shyly, looking around at the crowd. Confetti rained down. Lost in the excitement of the moment, you moved closer to give Nero a kiss on the cheek. Just as he was turning to you.

Now, it’s not like you kissed him. But your lips did land on the corner of his mouth.

You blinked at each other.

“H-HUH?” He reeled back, covering his flushed face.

No time to explain yourself, as the staff members brought the prizes and shoved them into your hands. A large basket filled with all kinds of merch was given to all three pairs of participants.

“And for the couple who placed first, a special bonus! WandererCon has collaborated with a nearby hotel for a unique experience, offering you both a one-night stay!”

The staff gave you some documents detailing everything.

“That concludes this years’ contest…” The judge continued, but you weren’t listening anymore.

Because if what the documents said was true, you were about to spend the night with Nero in a room with one bed. Judging by the look on his face, he had just read that part, too.

“We have to tell them, that there’s been a… Um. A mistake,” he told you later, sitting on a bench, helmet back on to hide his expression.

“What if we tell them that we’re not a couple and they take away our prizes? They would question why we entered the couples’ category if we’re not one,” you reasoned.

The thought of losing the merch made him pause.

“It’ll be fine. I read that the room has a couch. One of us can sleep on it. And! Did you read the part about the Wanderer-themed food they’ll be serving us for dinner and breakfast? That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah… It does…”

In the end, he relented. That’s how you found yourself taking the keys to the room in the hotel’s reception, where you were informed of all the amenities and services provided.

A few of the guests gave you weird looks, but the receptionist asked to take a picture with you both.

“You must be the winners of the contest!” She had said with excitement. “Well, lovebirds, enjoy the room,” she added at the end of her explanation, winking.

The ride in the elevator was awkward after that moment. Floor 1… Floor 2… Floor 3… All the way to floor 6.

Luckily, the luxuriousness of the room took over all of your thoughts as you stepped in. It made you wonder what WandererCon could gain by partnering with this hotel for such a sum of money spent on this suite.

“The description on the document did not do this place justice,” you commented.

“Yeah… That sofa is bigger than my bed back at home…” He took off the helmet to see the place better.

The floor-to-ceiling windows gave you a view of the hotel’s garden below. A massive TV hung from the wall, coffee table and sofa in front of it. There was even a kitchenette in a corner, minifridge filled to the brim with free stuff that you couldn’t help but want to try right away just because it was free.

To the left, the entrance to the bedroom. If the sofa was already big enough to sleep, the canopy bed must’ve been king size. On it, a pair of folded pajamas and a change of underwear had been left, as well as a gift basket filled with…

“I’m going to put that away,” you said promptly, not giving Nero the chance to process its contents.

You opened the wardrobe and shoved it in the lowest space available.

“Woah… Look at this,” he beckoned from the bathroom door.

Peeking from his shoulder, the only word that you could really use to describe what you were seeing was lavish. Marble floors and walls, a massive shower, a massive sink under a massive mirror, and of course, to top it off, a massive jacuzzi. The reason for their sizes being that they were meant to be used by two people at once.

Room fully explored, you sat down on the sofa to discuss what to do next.

“They’ll bring us dinner as soon as we ask for it. I don’t know about you, but I want to take a shower and change first,” you said, taking off some of the costume’s accessories.

“Uh, yeah, no, I agree. You can use the bathroom first, I’ll go after you.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

You took the provided clothes and stepped into the bathroom, feeling tiny. It was easy to take off most of what you were wearing, except the same item that gave you trouble when you first got Lumierefied: The dress. You tried to reach the zipper at the top of your back from different angles, but you couldn’t get enough leverage to pull it down.

“Damn it.”

Nero was on his phone when you walked back to the sofa, presumably on one of his forums.

“Hey.”

He almost dropped his phone, startled. “Yeah?” He turned to you.

“I can’t unzip my dress. Would you mind helping me?”

Instantly red. And phone dropped.

You turned around to show him the zipper. “If you pull it a bit I think I can reach the rest of the way.”

He had taken off his clawed gloves already to be able to use his phone, so he had no excuse to procrastinate. As he moved to stand behind you, you could feel his shaky breaths on your nape, and you could swear you heard his heart hammering in his chest.

Ziiip.

It was faster than you had expected. Then again, you guessed he wanted to be done with it as soon as possible.

“T-there.”

“Thank you!”

Back in the bathroom, you took off the dress and turned on the shower. If you had been on your own, you would have tried the jacuzzi, but you didn’t want to take up too much time.

The water was nice and hot, not to mention the shampoo and gel given by the hotel smelled really good. Like coconut.

You finished showering and wrapped a towel around your body, drying your hair a bit too. There were a few steps in your post-shower routine that you usually went through, but you remembered that Nero was quite resolute about cleanliness and would want to use the shower as soon as possible, so in the name of efficiency, you took your clothes and lotions out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

“I’m done! You can go now,” you called out.

“Okay!”

He came trotting through the door, only to freeze and cover his eyes with his hands upon seeing your towel-clad form.

“Y-you said you were d-done…” His voice got quieter and quieter.

“I am! I know you like being clean, and you already did me a favor by letting me go first, so you can shower while I finish changing here!”

“It’s okay… Really, I, I can wait…”

“Nonsense. Come on.”

You grabbed his set of clothes and pushed them into his hands, forcing him to look at you, the way you wet hair clung to your skin, your flushed cheeks due to the heat of the water, the dangerously low point the towel was resting on your chest- He swallowed.

Completely ignoring his wandering eyes, moreso because it amused you, you grabbed his arm and forced him into the bathroom.

“See? Was that so difficult?”

You closed the door before he could answer, but he had little to say.

Time to finish your self-care routine. You grabbed the body moisturizer and started applying it to your arms and legs, the texture soft. Would they tell you the brand if you asked in the hotel’s reception?

While you pondered this, there was a crash.

“Nero…? You okay?”

“U-uh, yeah! I- I fell trying to get this off…”

“Having trouble with your costume, too? Yours looks harder to put on and take off than mine.”

“I didn’t really have trouble putting it on, but now…”

“Okay, let me help,” you knocked.

The door opened a crack, then closed as soon as he saw you.

“You- Ah, mm… Change first.”

“I can’t put on the pajamas yet, I have to let the lotion dry. Just come out.”

One second of silence. Two seconds of silence. The door opened again.

Making a gesture with your hands for him to move closer, you instructed him to lean down so you could pull off the upper part of the costume. He was glad he didn’t have to look at you and could look at the floor instead.

It was difficult to find the right amount of force to use, since you didn’t want to ruin it, but you had to get it unstuck.

So you pulled, and pulled, and pulled, each time with a bit more strength- Too late. The piece came off, but now there was no time to brake. You stumbled back, making Nero stumble forward, the costume part flying off backwards over your head and landing on the other side of the room… Just as you landed on the floor and Nero on top of you.

“Ow…” You reached to rub your head. At least there was a carpet.

“I- Uh- Um- I-”

You blinked your eyes open to see why Nero was speechless now. Ah. The towel.

It wasn’t completely off, but a straight line of skin was exposed from your right shoulder to your right thigh. That included half of your chest.

The rest was covered, but it’s not like it mattered right now.

He couldn’t function. His eyes were glued to your body, and his face was poppy red. Even his glasses were fogging up.

“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes, “Nero, it’s a body part. You’ve never seen a body?”

He didn’t answer, still overwhelmed.

Well, since this had happened, you might as well have fun.

“Look.”

You grabbed his hand that was planted next to your head and pressed it to your breast, lifting an eyebrow.

“See? Just a body part.”

He squeaked and reeled back, pulling his hand free and crawling away from you. You sat up with a mischievous smile.

“Be honest,” you started, crawling towards him, “you like all this, don’t you? When I’m close to you, when I pay attention to you, when I touch you…”

He whimpered in response. The towel had fully fallen off by now.

“You act all shy, but we both know… You’ve been wanting this from the beginning.”

You reached him, caging him beneath you as he lay flat on the ground to stay as far away from you as possible. He was wearing a white T-shirt under the upper part of the costume, but he had yet to remove the bottom half, and you were certain that there was no space for him to wear pants of any kind under it, so he must be in boxers.

“I won’t do anything else unless I have your permission. If you want me to continue, you have to say it.”

Droplets from your wet hair fell on his face. Somehow, he managed to keep eye contact.

“You…” His chest fell and rose. “K-kiss me again, like before? P-please…”

Right, the accidental kiss. Had he been thinking about it this whole time? It was a quite innocent request compared to the situation you had put him in, but surprisingly direct coming from Nero.

His eyes darted to your lips several times, but he didn’t dare move.

“You want me to kiss you,” you repeated, then smirked, “is that all?”

He made a sound of protest and frustration. His fingers clutched the carpet in an attempt to hold himself back from doing anything embarrassing. He shook his head.

“No? What else? Use your words, pretty boy.”

His hand flew to his mouth. Did you really just call him that? You chuckled.

“Fine, we’ll take it slow.”

You pulled his hand away and pinned his arms to the floor. Slowly, so slowly, you leaned down until your lips brushed against his. Nothing more than a feather touch had him already gasping.

“Let’s see…” You whispered, “this is what I did before.”

Repeating what had happened in the contest, you kissed the corner of his lips. This time, however, letting the contact last longer, and making sure that a ‘mmm’ sound reverberated into the kiss.

When you pulled away, Nero was practically panting. His body squirmed under you, but you were certain it wasn’t because he wanted to escape your cruel intentions.

“There. That’s what you asked for.”

“W-wait!” Afraid that you were going to leave him like that, he found his voice again, “I want… Uhm- If you could, ah…”

“All you have to do is ask for it.”

He closed his eyes tight, as if saying these next words took all of his strength, “Do whatever you want with me.”

Your eyes widened. Oh, wow. He was actually a freak. Always the shy ones… You huffed a laugh, brushing the tip of your nose across his cheek to prompt him to open his eyes.

“Whatever, huh. Let’s be sensible. Just in case, let’s agree on a safe word,” you looked at him with genuine consideration.

He nodded, growing increasingly nervous at the thought of what you were about to do to him.

“How about… ‘Protocore’?”

“O-okay,” he knew this wasn’t a silly matter, so he was trying his best to be verbal about it.

“Alright, test it out. When should you say it?”

“Um… When I, if I feel uncomfortable… I should say p-protocore.”

“Good boy.”

Those two words made bumps appear all over his arms. You smiled with amusement.

That matter settled, your eyes made a very deliberate path to his lips. Since you were holding his wrists, your finger rested right over the pulse point there, showing you just how fast his heart had started beating at your gaze.

He tilted his head up to get himself the smallest bit closer to you, practically begging for a kiss. An actual proper kiss.

Your lips pressed against his, finally. You noticed they were slightly chapped, the texture rough in contrast to your softness, but that only made you want to run your tongue over them. So you did.

He instantly opened his mouth in response. You plunged your tongue into his mouth, which earned you a muffled whimper. He swiped his tongue against yours with caution, growing more comfortable as you kept going. It became messy very fast due to his inexperience, the deeper you kissed him, the more he started drooling.

Despite that, he was a very desperate kisser. Like he didn’t believe this was happening, nor it would ever happen again in the future, so he might as well go all out in the present.

You pulled back and licked your lips, looking down at his state. His glasses, apart from foggy, were now crooked, and a line of drool ran down his chin. You licked it up.

“I’m curious,” you announced with an air of mystery.

He tilted his head, silently asking ‘about?’. Not answering, you moved to sit next to him, setting his arms free. He mentally debated if he should touch your naked body with his newfound freedom, but he didn’t have time to reach a conclusion as your hand slid to his pants - still part of the costume - and pulled them off, along with his underwear.

He froze in flustered silence, completely exposed to you. Part of him wanted to cover himself up, it was too embarrassing to let you see his fully erect leaking dick, he felt too self-conscious about it, but the other part of him was curious to know your opinion. Maybe if you insulted him now, it would be easier for him to accept that he had fumbled you once he got back home.

But, you didn’t say anything.

No, as you stared at the 8-inch cock in front of you, you really didn’t have anything to say. Always the shy ones indeed.

With almost wonder in your eyes, you wrapped a hand around it. Nero twitched.

“W-wait, mh-”

He pushed himself up on his elbows, reaching to grab your wrist with half-lidded eyes. You didn’t move your hand, but returned your gaze to his expression.

“Wait? For what?”

“I just, well, you were kissing me and- I’m not saying I didn’t like it, t-the opposite, but well I’m nervous now, so… Uh, not yet because, because I-”

Cutting him off, you started pumping up and down, precum helping you slide along his length. He bit down hard on his lip to prevent a moan.

“W-wait! I! Ah-”

He let go of your hand in order to keep himself lifted on his elbows.

“Stop, s-stop, I’m too sensitive-”

You didn’t let up. If anything, you sped up, brushing your thumb across the tip.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” you said with a smirk.

“B-because, mh, fffh…” His words became higher pitched and whiney, “I don’t-”

His worst nightmare was realized right then. Having any sort of sexual interaction with a beautiful girl and cumming in less than thirty seconds. How pathetic of him, he thought.

The cum spilled over your hand and shot all across his T-shirt, his abdomen and legs shaking. His elbows gave out and he fell on his back.

“I’m s-orry- I’m sorry, I’m so- sorry-” Was the only thing he said through the orgasm, covering his eyes.

You stood up and left to go to the bathroom, and it solidified the fact for him: You thought he was disgusting and wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

Nothing further from the truth, as you returned with a damp towel after cleaning your hand to help him clean up. You moved his hands away from his face and repositioned his glasses.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“What for?” You asked now that he had calmed down somewhat, handing him the towel.

“Mm… I, I came too fast…”

“But I wanted you to cum.”

“W-well, yeah, but, you know, that’s uhh…”

He didn’t look you in the eye as he cleaned himself and took his stained shirt off.

“It’s what?”

“Kinda… Pathetic…?”

He stood up and realized you were both completely bare in front of the other, and he still hadn’t touched you. The passing contact of his palm on your breast burned his skin.

“Maybe, but I found it hot.”

The blush returned to his face. He looked down and started fidgeting with his hands. You remembered he was about to shower before all of this happened, so you slid your hand in his and led him to the bathroom.

“Um, what are you-”

“I’ve been wanting to try the jacuzzi.”

“Oh.”

Water started filling the tub. In the meantime, you turned to Nero and stepped closer. He wanted to put his hands on you so badly, but he was too embarrassed to try.

Honestly, you just wanted to eat him up.

“Relax. We’re just going to take a bath, and then we’ll have dinner.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

You reached up and gently took off his glasses. Before setting them aside, you tried them on, curious, only to find he had a very high prescription. Even though you were blurry, the way you widened your eyes wasn’t missed and it made him giggle. As you looked at him, he coughed to cover up his laugh and looked away.

“I’d give you um, a compliment, about how they look on you but, you know uh… I can’t really see. Although I k-know for a fact that you look good in them because, because you… You look g-good in anything…”

You took them off and put them near the sink, then kissed his cheek.

“Thank you.”

Your bodies brushed when you got closer, and he instinctively lifted his hands with fear as if to say ‘I didn’t touch you on purpose! I’m not a pervert!’.

You shook your head and facepalmed. He panicked again at your gesture.

“Nero, I just gave you a handjob,” you sighed, “You know what? It’s okay. Forget that happened, maybe I went too fast. Let’s start from the beginning.”

You turned off the faucet, water having reached an acceptable level, and gestured for him to get in first. Like a small animal in distress, he followed your command and sank into the water, cowering because you seemed angry - you weren’t.

Before he could protest, you entered and sat on his lap, facing him, straddling his thighs. His hands gripped the edges of the tub.

“You said-!”

“And I meant it! Calm down, I just want you to get more comfortable with me. My body. Not every skin to skin contact has to be about sex.”

He relaxed the tiniest bit.

“Now, put your hands on my waist. And you have to understand, I want you to touch me. I’m not going to judge you for doing that. I was the one who put your hand on my chest!”

He nodded along with your explanation, sliding his hands down the white marble and bringing them to your sides. It still felt forced.

“Tell me something. Do you want to touch me?”

“Yes! Y-yes…” He sank his mouth underwater, blowing a few bubbles.

“Then do it. I give you full permission to move your hands wherever you want. Would you rather I… Don’t look?” You tilted your head. “Is that it? You feel judged if I’m looking at you?”

“A bit…”

“Okay.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned forward, resting your head against your bicep. Your chest pressed against his. He got hard again.

A few moments passed, but seeing you weren’t moving nor saying anything, he began to slide his hands up. You could feel his warm face pressed to your cheek.

He stopped right when he felt your breasts, gathering the courage to continue. As gently as he could, he cupped each breast in his hands until his palms were flush with your skin.

“C-can I… squeeze or will that hurt you?”

“As long as you don’t do it very hard, it’s fine.”

Worried about how hard was ‘very hard’, he squeezed with barely any force, then ran his thumbs across your nipples. That made you exhale.

He froze.

“That feels good,” you reassured him.

“Oh, okay,” he was taking mental notes of every piece of information.

He continued his exploration, moving his hands down this time, to your thighs. The sound of water and his echoey breathing were the only noise in the bathroom, since you hadn’t turned on the jacuzzi function yet.

He squeezed them, too, sliding his way up, but staying on the outer part.

“You’re- Very um, soft.”

“I think it’s the lotion I just used, but thanks,” you kissed his cheek, “your hands feel nice.”

“A-are you going to, uh, kiss me every time I compliment you?”

“Yeah, why not.”

“Well, I think you’re very pretty, b-but! Obviously that’s not the only thing about you, I mean, you’re a great Hunter and you’re very intelligent, every time you come back from a mission and I read your reports it’s always amazing to see how efficient you are, and you’re so much fun to spend time with, I-I’m very happy you came with me- Ah! I didn’t tell you before but you wear the costume so well, and you’re so talented-”

You cut him off with a kiss, which he instantly melted into. His arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close. This time he was a bit more sure of what he was doing, tilting his head and returning the motions of your lips. You pulled back but he furrowed his brow with a whine and dipped his head to kiss you again, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek.

Far from complaining, you kissed him back. The hand still on your back slid down to your rear. He broke the kiss with urgency.

“Y-you… made me feel good so I want to m-make you feel good too… Um… Show me how…?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled, glad that he was warming up to intimacy.

He took his hand off your cheek and presented it to you. Grabbing his wrist, you plunged it into the water and brought it between your legs.

“Feel around first, don’t be shy.”

The pads of his fingers traced down your pubes, over your clit and into your folds, finding your entrance.

“Do I just…”

“Hold on, you overlooked something.”

“I- I did?”

You moved his hand back slightly.

“That’s my clitoris. I thought you’d like to know.”

He blushed furiously, “O-oh. Yeah, mhm…”

His finger circled it a couple of times, getting used to its feel. Your breath hitched. Encouraged, he kept rubbing it.

“So is it better to do this… Rather than, you know, f-fingering you…?”

“Both are different, but I’m going to show you the best way. Put your ring and middle fingers together and put them in.”

“A-at the same time?”

“Yeah, slowly.”

He followed your instructions, ever careful. Once they were fully in, you spoke up.

“Okay… Now curl-”

The action was immediate, a gasp falling from your lips as you gripped his shoulders.

“Did I hurt you!?” He was about to pull his hand back but you kept it in place, shaking your head.

“Quite the opposite. You’re doing great. Now, press your palm up…”

Your hips bucked into his touch as he did.

“Y-yeah, like that, now you just move your fingers and rub with your palm.”

He started slow, pumping his fingers in and out while curled, making sure to keep the friction against your clit. You suspected he had skilled hands ever since you had seen him typing away on his computer, but his coordination was surpassing your expectations.

You grew breathless, your hips rocking in tandem with his touch. The water sloshed around you.

“And… You can…” You grabbed his free hand and placed it on your breast with a squeeze. “Mmm, like that…”

He was just as worked up as you, if not more. Unprompted - to your delight, he dipped his head and started kissing your neck. Very sweet and innocent kisses compared to what his hands were doing.

“C-can I, hm, b-bite you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, the pronunciation of the word more lewd than you intended.

You felt his dick twitch on your thigh. His teeth clamped down on your neck, tongue licking the skin with intent. You moved your hand down to jerk him off again, but he stopped you, a frustrating loss on your chest.

“No. T-this is for you… Just concentrate on feeling good, okay?”

“Okay,” you dug your fingers into his hair instead.

“Am I doing well?” His hand returned to fondling your breast.

“You’re doing great… Mh- Maybe you can go faster now.”

No more words were needed. He picked up the pace, hitting your g-spot just right each time, grinding his palm against your clit with more determination.

The moans couldn’t be held back anymore. He planted open-mouthed kisses to the spot where he had bitten, noting how you clenched around his fingers. How would that feel on his dick?

Pleasure started pooling, your movements becoming more erratic, reaching for that high. He noticed and pushed his fingers harder against your spongy walls.

“Nero- Mh… Keep going like that, yes, just like that- I’m gonna cum- Fuck, don’t stop-”

Your hands clutched his hair, head falling back, and-

With a gasp, followed by a moan, the orgasm wrecked through you. He kept moving his hand until your head fell on his chest, just to make sure you had fully finished.

He pulled his fingers out and hugged you in silence as your breathing returned to normal.

Once your senses came back, you lifted your head to give him a sweet kiss. He smiled, shy.

“You… Liked it?”

“Yes. I didn’t expect you to be so good at it,” you chuckled.

Pride overtook his expression.

“You sure you don’t want me to…” You looked down at his erection.

He shook his head, “A-after dinner… If you want, I- We-”

You laughed again, “After dinner, absolutely. Let me help you wash your hair, at least. It’s all tousled now…”

Since you had already taken a shower earlier, you focused on helping him, which he really appreciated. All the contact and intimacy that he had never had made this day easily one of the best of his life.

You washed his hair and massaged his scalp, sneaking a few kisses when he closed his eyes. He washed the rest of his body himself, blushing as you absentmindedly traced your fingers across his skin while you waited.

Before leaving the bath, you remembered the reason why you wanted to use it in the first place: The jacuzzi function. You pressed the button and relaxed for a few minutes under the bubbling water.

It wasn’t healthy to stay too long, though, so you said goodbye to the jacuzzi with a mock salute.

Nero passed you a towel and wrapped one around himself. Luckily relaxing in the water had made him go soft again, relieved that he didn’t have to feel embarrassed about having a tent.

You dried off then put on the pajamas and underwear, all very comfy and soft, and he put his glasses back on.

“I’ll call them to bring our dinner while you dry your hair,” he offered.

“Okay!”

The hair dryer was also really good quality. You were definitely going to participate in more contests in the future, regardless of whether a hotel stay was in the prizes or not.

You brushed your dry hair and walked out of the bathroom. Just then, a knock at the door.

Nero opened it and a staff member entered, pushing a serving cart filled with covered plates. They left it next to the coffee table.

“We have organized it so the entrées are on the upper tray, and dessert is on the bottom tray. The idea is that you go down each tray of food. There’s also a triptych on the top describing each meal. Do you have any questions?”

“Nope.” You looked at Nero. He shook his head.

“Then I’ll get going. Enjoy your food!” They smiled.

“Thank you!” You both said in unison.

The door closed. You took the first tray and put it on the table, then sat on the sofa.

“Want to do the honors?” You said to him.

“Yeah. We can do one each,” he sat next to you and lifted the silver cover.

The food was amazing. Both in presentation - they nailed the ‘Wanderers’ theme - and in taste. As you ate the meals, however, you noticed that Nero had grown weirdly quiet, and not in the usual shy way.

“Is everything alright?” You put your fork down.

“Hm? Why?”

“I don’t know, you seem upset or like, lost in thought.”

He put his fork down too.

“D-do you like me?”

“...What? What do you mean?”

“I mean… A-are you interested in me or… D-do you just want, uhm, a one night stand…?”

“Oh! No, no, I’m interested in you, Nero. I like you. You’re so cute and sweet. I would… It would be nice if we started dating.”

“Wait- Really?” He looked up at you with bright eyes, pushing up his glasses in a nervous gesture.

“If you also want to, yes.”

“Yes! Yes, I want to. I want you to be my g-girlfriend.”

You hugged him, covering his face in little kisses that knocked his glasses off. He laughed nervously, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your hair.

“S-stop, that’s too much…” He complained, but you knew he wasn’t actually annoyed.

“I can’t help it, you’re sitting here looking so kissable… Hehehe.”

You grabbed his glasses and put them back on his face.

“The food will get cold. You can continue your attacks after we eat,” he said, letting go of you.

“Oh, I intend to.”

That sent a shiver up his spine, but he refrained from saying anything in case you would change your mind and forget about the food entirely. After all, he wanted to enjoy this cute moment of eating dinner with his girlfriend.

Meals finished, cart taken away, you stood up with your arms crossed.

“Well?”

“...well what?” He looked around nervously.

“Are you going to stand up and join me in the bed or are you going to keep editing those pictures you took of the food?”

“A-ah…” He dropped his phone for the second time today.

You picked up the phone and left it on the table, away from him, to then pull him up by his arms.

“That wasn’t a response.”

“I’ll join you,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact.

You walked to the bedroom, hand in hand, but you stopped in front of the closet as you remembered the basket.

This time Nero got a good look at it.

“We-! We’re not gonna-! We-! Use all of that!?” He pointed at all of the items with a bewildered look.

“Calm down, we’re not. Geez, how freaky does the hotel management think we are?” You said with sarcasm, knowing exactly how much of a freak you were.

Nero seemed in particular distress about the strap on, which you lifted with curiosity but promptly put down. No, you were just looking for the condoms. For now.

“I feel like you should know, well I, I’m not exactly, um, what I mean is, I’m… A virgin.”

How sweet of him to mention it, as if it wasn’t obvious. You held back your snarky comeback, since this was serious for him and you weren’t that evil.

“Right. That’s okay. You remember the safe word?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re good!”

You took one of the condoms and guided him to the bed, sitting down.

“I also don’t… I have no idea how to… Put one of those on.”

“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” you were concerned about the lack of sexual education he had received, but that was a different matter entirely.

He looked unsure of what to do next. Kiss you? Start undressing? Jump out of the window from embarrassment?

Those doubts dissipated as you started kissing his neck, his eyes closing in bliss.

“You left a mark on my neck,” you whispered between kisses, “it’s only fair I return the favor.”

He tilted his head up, grabbing a fistful of your hair, realizing he might be hurting you and letting go, ultimately grabbing again once you bit down. The noise he let out was borderline pornographic.

You sucked and licked the skin, only stopping to admire how it looked before moving on to a different spot and repeating the process.

By the time you were done, his neck was covered in hickeys, he was panting, and he was visibly hard. Your hands had stayed on his shoulders the entire time on purpose, but now, as you looked at him look at you, they wandered down to unbutton his shirt.

He tried to avoid your gaze by looking at them, but you were quick to tilt his chin back up.

“Unbutton mine.”

He complied, fumbling with the buttons and taking twice the time you did out of pure nervousness. He was about to lose his virginity with you of all people. Fuck, he was about to lose his virginity period.

You took off the pajamas and discarded them on the floor. Despite having seen you naked not that long ago, it took him a moment to calm down again.

Gently pushing him back, you took off his pants and knelt between his legs.

“I’m gonna show you how to put on a condom but first I wanna do something…”

“Hm?”

You lowered your head towards his erection and he immediately palmed your forehead to stop you.

“W-wait!”

He retracted his hand, but kept it between you and his dick.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow.

“If- If you do that, I am certain, I am… I will c-cum right away…”

“I still don’t see the issue.”

“But- You- I- Well- We-” He started gesticulating incoherently.

You took the opportunity of his hands being busy to lower your head the rest of the way and lick up his shaft.

“Ah!” He threw his head back, then shot you a glare.

The eye contact in that moment was when you decided to put your whole mouth around it, sucking it completely. It was the right choice, as you got a perfect view of his flustered expression.

His hands gripped the sheets, unintelligible sounds falling from his lips.

“Mh! Nghh…”

You sucked from bottom to tip, dragging your tongue along the veins, making sure to cover all of it with your saliva. Your dominant hand followed just after your lips, while the other fondled his balls.

“You have such a pretty dick, you know,” you kissed the frenulum.

It twitched in your hand, precum already dripping, and Nero grabbed a pillow to cover his face and muffle his moans.

“No, no, no, c’mon,” you pulled it away, “don’t you wanna see the cum all over my face when you finish?”

“Why do you-, why are you-, I’m just, I feel like-”

You sucked it fully again, swirling your tongue around it. His stomach trembled in tandem with his heaving breaths.

“Ahgh! Mmmff… P-please- Ahh…”

He was holding back. He was trying so hard not to cum, to impress you, to prove to himself that he could last, that he wouldn’t be a mess when he was finally inside you, but sucking up the length while rolling your eyes back and humming was all it took.

Thick ropes of white painted the inside of your mouth, his hips stuttering. Another apologetic string of sentences rang out of him, only a lot more garbled, his head on the mattress and his back arched towards you.

You licked and swallowed all the cum. When you finally pulled back and looked at his state, he refused to make eye contact, but his eyes were fixed on the top of the canopy with suspicious concentration.

You looked up and, ah, of course, a mirror. Your eyes met his and he instantly looked away, moving to lie on his side and bury his face against the mattress.

“Nero, are you embarrassed or are you upset? I can’t tell.”

“Mm mmm,” he answered, words muffled.

You lied down next to him and caressed his cheek. He slowly came out of hiding.

“I didn’t understand that. Can you repeat it?”

“The first,” he repeated with a huff.

“So, embarrassed. But, did you like it?”

“Are you joking!?” He exclaimed, “I- I mean… Yes…”

“Great, because I’m far from done with you,” you lifted the condom to his flushed face, “wanna be on top?”

He shook his head so hard that his glasses almost fell off.

“Listen,” he tried to explain as you got on top of him once more, “I’m still sensitive, a-and I might cum just as fast anyways, so I’m really sorry in advance for how much of a mess I’m going to be, I promise I’m doing my best, if you don’t want to do this anymore that’s fine by me, we can do whatever you want- Aah-,” he shuddered as you slipped the condom on his still hard dick, “...that was easier than I expected- A-as I was saying! If you don’t like this, I could e-eat you out instead- MMMGH!”

You sank onto him in a swift move, the full length now buried to the hilt inside your warm cunt. It made you gasp, too. It felt better than any sex toys or past flings you had had.

“With how fast you talk, I don’t doubt that it would be nice, but you made me so wet with all your moaning that I couldn’t wait to fuck you properly.”

He mumbled a response, hands grabbing your thighs to keep you still for a moment; it was too much for him to process, and he knew that if you started moving he would-

You rocked your hips, propping yourself with your hands on his chest, and his nails dug into your skin with a broken whimper.

“Wait!”

Ignoring him, you did it again. God, he felt good.

“Agh-!” He arched his body, scratching your thighs, which he looked really apologetic about but he couldn’t help himself.

“How mean, you have all this and you want to keep it all to yourself…” You teased.

“N-no, it’s not that, I swear, u-use me, I-”

At those words, you raised your hips and dropped them sharply, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. His eyes rolled back, words dying in his throat.

“You didn’t let me, let me f-finish s-speaking…!” He protested.

“Since you wanna talk so much, how about I give you something to do with your mouth?”

You reached up and pushed your fingers inside his mouth, delivering another pointed rock of your hips. Helpless, he began sucking on them.

Matter settled, you started to actually move on top of him at a constant rhythm, new red lines appearing on your thighs with each movement. He was so overstimulated that tears started to pool and fall down his cheeks.

The best thing about riding him was that you could deliver a perfect hit to your g-spot every time, although with how thick he was, he might’ve done that anyways if he was on top.

You clenched around him and he saw stars, whimpering and moaning between your fingers. Hit after hit, warmth started to spread across your body, growing more and more breathless as the pleasure built, never enough - you needed to step it up.

So you took your hand out of his mouth to keep balance as you fucked yourself on his dick, faster and harder, his pussy-drunk expression only serving to drag you further, moans now spilling from your lips as well.

Nero slowly but surely recovered from the overstimulation, the mattress below him wet with tears. He chased his own pleasure now too, hips jerking up to meet you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you said, having trouble holding yourself up.

“Don’t st-oh-op, p-please, p-please, mmh…”

“I- I can’t keep, fuck, ah-”

The rope stretched tighter and tighter until it snapped, electricity jolting up your spine. Your body shook and fell on top of Nero’s, spasming with the aftershocks of the orgasm.

“No! Mh! P-please!” He cried, feeling so close himself but edged since you had stopped, “I need- you- I need to-”

He turned, both of you lying on your sides, his hands keeping your thighs around his waist, and-

With desperate thrusts, he tried to reach the climax he hadn’t. He buried his face in your chest, glasses pressing against your skin as he kissed and sucked anywhere his mouth could reach.

You grabbed his hair, shaky gasps each time his tongue teased your nipples or his cock reached deep. It was a lot, his pace relentless, but you wanted him to finish, so you let him continue.

“S-sorry, I need to- I want to cum so bad- P-please, I’m almost there- Nghh-!”

The sweet torture didn’t last long - not that you expected it to in the first place, his hips stuttering as he delivered a couple more deep hits. You looked down to see his face as he came. He went cross-eyed. Wow, you wished you had taken a picture.

He stayed with his arms around you for a bit, breathing heavily. You caressed the top of his head.

“Come up, give me a kiss,” you said softly.

He complied, moving his posture to face you. A gentle kiss, just lips, after which you both smiled.

“I really liked that,” you reassured him before he could apologize for anything.

“Me t-too. But…”

You covered his mouth with your hand.

“Are you about to put yourself down in any way?”

He raised his eyebrows, then shook his head. You moved your hand away.

“I just wanted to say… Well, I think it’s a bit unfair that I, uh, I came one more time than you did, so…”

“The score doesn’t always have to be ‘settled’,” you chuckled.

“I! I know that! But still, I want to… Y-you said yourself that… About me t-talking a lot…”

“You wanna eat me out that badly, huh.”

He flushed. Somehow he remained easily embarrassed.

“I’m curious to know how you taste.”

Maybe not that embarrassed.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” you nodded at him.

Confused, he followed your command. You spit. He closed his mouth, shocked. He acted offended, but you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed it.

“That��s how I taste,” you laughed.

“Not- That’s not-! You know what I meant!” He huffed, the grip around you getting a little tighter.

“Hahaha, okay, okay, just teasing you. By all means, go right ahead. I would never say no to being eaten out.”

With your permission, he released you and pulled out, his dick now soft. He got up to throw away the condom while you positioned yourself on the bed, legs spread for him, pillows stacked under your upper back and head.

He crawled back on the bed and lied down on his stomach, face between your thighs, eyes darting wildly at the display before him. Seeing it was different from feeling it.

“Will you guide me like you did before?”

“Yeah, of course. Get a feel for it first, though.”

He nodded and swallowed.

“I didn’t expect you… To be… So wet…” His fingers traced your inner lips.

“I told you before.”

“Sure, but- I thought it was an exaggeration…” He licked his finger. No discernible reaction, until he realized you had watched him do that, then he turned redder.

“What’s the verdict? Do I taste good?” You smirked.

“A-ah, well- I didn’t really- I have to try more.”

“Smooth.”

This time he stuck out his tongue, flat, and licked up from your entrance to your clit. You trembled involuntarily.

“Like that?” He repeated the action.

“Y-yes, but, it’s not just that, you aren’t a dog-,” you gave him a look, but discarded the thought. Pet play might be too advanced for his first day. “You have suck, too. You can kiss if you want. Don’t bite, unless it’s on the thighs. And don’t focus on one specific spot, but every now and then you should definitely hone in on the clitoris,” you paused, “Is that confusing? Did I explain it more or less okay?”

“I’ll try to follow what you just said, but correct me if I do anything wrong.”

His arms wrapped around each of your thighs.

“Oh, and,” he kissed your clit, “that’s the clitoris, right?”

“Yes,” you smiled proudly at how far he’d come.

That smile faded fast as he dove right in and started sucking and licking like a starved man, running his tongue up and down, your expression morphing as your brow furrowed in pleasure.

His head moved up and down, lips pressing against every part of your cunt, tongue parting your folds. Just like you had told him, he made sure to stop at your clit, suck it and swirl his tongue around it before dragging it away and poking at your entrance, drinking all he could taste.

You bucked your hips towards him, gripping his hair with one hand and the sheets with the other. Your thighs pressed against his cheeks.

“Y-you can… Hahh… If you- Your nose-”

He understood what you meant, rubbing his nose to your clit as he sucked lower. His glasses fogged up at the heat. He took them off and threw them away to get a better angle.

They landed on the carpet, undamaged, but neither of you really cared.

His eyes moved up to you every now and then, though blurry, he tried his best to gauge your reaction, along with the little trembles of your legs. It was getting easier to understand what he had to do.

Still, he had some improvements to do. He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, lips red and moist, a web of saliva connecting his mouth to your cunt. He licked his lips.

“Don’t stop,” you breathed.

“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly muttered before diving back in.

This time his movements were faster, his tongue flicking in all the right spots. One of his hands moved up to squeeze your breast, fondling it, small sounds of pleasure vibrating from his mouth to your core.

You grinded your hips back and forth, hissing. Nero was doing something similar against the mattress, his dick probably hard again.

He sucked your clit sharply, and you threw your head back with a moan.

“Fuck… Yes…”

He did it again.

“Mmnn! Nero, I’m so fucking close- Don’t slow down- ah!”

Far from it, he kept up the pace with heavy breaths, the hot air hitting your skin. Your fingers tightened their grip on both his hair and the sheets. Which, if it weren’t for the fact that he was neatly licking everything up, would have been stained with your wetness long ago.

“Yeah yeah yeah-” Your vision began to cloud as that familiar numbing sensation spread, almost, almost, right there.

Uncontrollable shivers ran along your body, your expression locked in a continuous gasp as you looked up, at the mirror, seeing - more than feeling - Nero kissing your inner thighs and up your stomach.

You slowly came down from the high. By the time he buried his face in your neck, you had regained control of your body and could wrap your arms around him.

“I have my verdict now,” he said with a cocky edge, “you taste good.”

You chuckled and patted his hair, ruffled from your grabbing and pulling.

“That means you’ll eat me often, then?”

He lost his cockiness, “I-If you want me to.”

You held him for a bit while an idea cooked in your mind. Would he be opposed? He didn’t seem very thrilled when he saw the strap on…

“Hey, are you up for one more thing? I know you were all about ‘settling the score’ or whatever, but I want to do something… It’ll be the last, I promise. We can go to bed after.”

“Uhm… Anything and everything you want to do is fine by me…”

“Riiight…” You gently pulled away from his embrace and got up.

As he saw you walk towards the basket, he felt a slight nervousness well up, but he calmed himself by believing you were just going to grab another condom. On the way there, you tossed him his glasses.

His vision now clear, he saw how wrong he was.

You lifted the strap and his face went white.

“You can’t be serious…”

“I am. You see, you were such a good boy eating me out and you did so well, that I think you deserve a prostate orgasm,” you said with a smile.

“I don’t- I don’t think I can, I’m able to… I…”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We won’t! But if you’re just saying ‘no’ because it’s a new, weird experience, I’m asking you to be open minded.”

“Have... Have you done this before…?”

“What, peg a guy? Yes,” you shrugged.

He shook off the feelings of jealousy to instead focus on the fact that you knew what you were doing.

You picked up the lube - also in the basket - and walked up to the bed to sit next to him.

“Look at it. Your dick is a lot bigger and I can take it no problem.”

He turned red, “Well! That’s! I mean!”

To be fair, there were actually more sizes available, this one being the smallest, but you had buried them under the condoms and lube bottles so he wouldn’t see. A small mercy from you.

“Are you up for it or not?”

“Uhhh… Maybe I can, just like, try it for a second,” he avoids your gaze, fidgeting with his hands.

“Sure! Of course. If it’s uncomfortable, we stop.”

You pat the bed, “Get on all fours.”

“What!? Right away!?” He lowered his head.

“...I mean, what did you expect to happen first?”

“I don’t know! Can I get a kiss first.”

You giggled and leaned to kiss him. His hands cupped your face, and you felt him smile into the kiss.

“Better?”

“I guess.”

“Alright, I’m going to lube you up. I’ll use my fingers, so don’t get scared.”

“You’re gonna… Ah… Mhm…”

He positioned himself on all fours as you indicated, slightly relieved that at least he didn’t have to face you.

You squeezed some lube out on your fingers and took a gander at what you were working with. Okay, he was definitely tense.

“Breathe, Nero. My gosh.”

“Right, right, mhm.”

He wasn’t going to calm down much more, it was obvious, so instead of dragging it out, you simply decided to circle your finger around his hole and slowly push it in. No more than an inch deep.

The foreign sensation made his breath hitch.

“Am I hurting you?”

“N-no.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No…”

You pushed your index a bit further, coating his inner walls with the lube. You stopped once you figured you were deep enough.

“This is what I was talking about,” you warned him, before pressing down right on his prostate.

You saw his hands clutching the sheets as he gasped, then looked back over his shoulder.

“That’s…”

“Feels good, right?”

“Yeah…”

You retracted your finger and picked up the strap on to lube it up as well, coating its black silicone with your hands. Nero watched the whole process with his mouth dry.

“It’s about to feel a lot better than ‘good’, trust me.”

He nodded noncommittally, but deep down he was very curious after having felt just your finger.

You fastened the strap to your waist and thighs, making sure everything was properly tightened, and turned your attention back to him.

“You can still say no.”

“No, I, I’m okay.”

“Alright.”

You aligned the tip of the dildo with his hole, kneeling behind him. He looked away, heavily in disbelief that somehow this was happening - and worst of all - he was eager for it to happen.

The tip slid in easily thanks to the lube, a soft muffled sound coming from Nero, who now had one of his hands covering his mouth. You pushed a bit deeper, tentatively. Your hands found perch on each side of his waist, the touch causing goosebumps along his skin.

“You’re doing so well,” you praised.

Another inch. It was almost fully in. His posture was so rigid that he might as well have been a statue.

The final bit disappeared inside him, and you took a moment to let him adjust.

“How is it? How are you?”

He moved his hand away from his mouth, propping it against the mattress again.

“It’s a lot… But… It doesn’t feel bad, just weird.”

“That’s good. Can I move?”

“Yeah…”

With his permission, you slid it halfway out, and back in. Slowly.

“H-ah-”

One more time.

“Mmg-”

Faster.

“Oh-”

From tip to base.

“Ah!”

Seeing he could take it, you set the pace. In and out, every single hit dragging a new noise out of him.

Your hands on his waist, you began pulling him against you at the same time, lewd noises each time your hips met his ass. His knuckles turned white.

“Look at you, being so good,” you said in a singsongy voice, “arch that back for me.”

He did, whimpering at the way the strap felt in that posture.

“Good boy. Are you enjoying being fucked like this, Nero?”

“Y-ye-sssssgh…”

He was so far gone, and having done so little, too. It was going to be a delight when you used a bigger strap in the future.

Your thrusts turned harder, opting for impact instead of speed. Broken moans and whimpers fell from his lips. His arms trembled.

“You look so cute like this,” you leaned forward, wrapping a hand around his neck to make him face you.

He turned to you with half-lidded eyes and a permanent flush. You could practically see the heart-shaped pupils in his eyes, dazed and drunk. He felt like he was about to die from pleasure.

You felt him back up on you since you had stopped moving. You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s this, getting greedy?” You smirked.

“Pleaseee…” He whined, voice cracking.

“That good, huh,” you let go of his neck, “and you were so reluctant before.”

Both hands back on his waist, you rammed yourself inside him. He moaned loudly, but the sound got cut by yet another thrust, his voice carrying on and getting cut off repeatedly as you picked up the pace.

Precum dripped on the mattress. You intended to jerk him off at the same time, although it didn’t seem necessary, so you focused on hitting his prostate at the right angle.

His arms gave out under him, barely holding himself together as he now lay face down and ass up - drooling.

“Hey,” you called out, “look- at- your- self-” you pointed up with your chin.

His eyes wandered up to the mirror, where he saw the utter mess he was, and how the strap slid in and out of him. The sight made his body tremble. You looked so hot.

“I’m gunn- gonna- aah… mmmh… going to- nngh! C-cum…”

“Yeah? Show- me. Cum- for- me,” you punctuated your words with thrusts.

He babbled incoherently, his legs shaking. His sounds got louder and louder, until he started pleading in broken syllables, and then- release.

Spurts of cum shot on the bed, his face buried against the mattress as he bit the sheets.

You moved for a bit longer to let him ride it out. When the whimpering turned into heaving gasps, you stopped. Gently, you pulled the strap out.

He collapsed on his side, fully spent.

“Very good. You did such a good job,” you leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He mumbled a reply.

You took off the strap and attempted to clean as much of the mess as you could. At that point it was better to change the sheets entirely, you realized.

Well, you weren’t a Hunter for nothing. You scooped Nero up bridal style and let him down gently on a chair while you changed the bed. He was flustered by the action, but not in the right state to complain.

After changing the sheets - there was a spare set in the closet - you went to the bathroom to grab a damp towel. You cleaned yourself first, then sat down next to Nero and helped him.

“Thanks…” Was all he could say.

You scooped him back up and laid him down on the bed before climbing in yourself.

“Want some water? Or anything?”

“No… I want… Sleep and cuddles…”

You chuckled, “we can absolutely do that.”

You turned off the lights and cozied up to him, gently taking his glasses and putting them on the nightstand. His arms wrapped around your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck.

The skin-to-skin contact, once arousing, now soothing, helped him drift off quite fast. You didn’t take much longer, sleep taking you in minutes.

An alarm woke you up the next morning. A song from the Super Hunters show. Nero’s alarm.

“Mmmh… Oh, no…” He got up, untangling himself from your warm embrace and running to turn it off.

You stirred, rubbing your eyes. Opening them, you saw him standing next to the bed, looking down at you.

“Hm? What…?” You said in a sleepy voice.

He chuckled and climbed back in, hugging you.

“Nothing. I just think my girlfriend looks very cute when she’s sleepy,” his voice was a little deeper in the morning.

You could already tell he was going to be the type of guy that showed off his girlfriend a lot. It made you smile, really.

“I think my boyfriend should have turned off his alarms,” you countered, poking his cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” he kissed right below your ear, “I forgot we were sleeping here together instead of being alone back home, and it slipped my mind.”

“Oooh, right, because we would have to drive all the way back from Linkon to WandererCon…”

“Yeah…”

“Do you have a lot planned for today?” You caressed his cheek, which he leaned into.

“I… I had plans… But… Uh…” His usual blush tinted his face.

“But?”

“We… The documents said we… Uhm, so, the room… Is booked until 5PM today… And I don’t feel like going to the convention today…”

Unbelievable. He wanted to spend the day here with you rather than gushing about Wanderers? Was he sick?

You blinked at him. He was a bit confused about your shocked reaction.

“Or, do you want to go?”

“No. No. I want to stay, I’m just surprised you want to stay. Are you sure? It only happens once a year, and I’m still going to be your girlfriend tomorrow.”

You knew this was important for him, so you wanted to make sure he knew what he was doing.

“Yes, I’m sure. Wanderers are still going to exist tomorrow, and I have you here now. It would be a waste not to enjoy your company.”

He kissed you, and kissed you, deep and loving, over and over.

“How was the weekend?” Asked Tara when you arrived at work.

“Oh shit, I forgot to buy you something,” you palmed your forehead, “I’ll treat you to dessert for the rest of the week,” you sat on your office chair.

“Hahaha, it’s okay, but I’ll take you up on that offer,” she clapped giddily.

She rolled her chair closer.

“It must have been really interesting to attend, if you forgot about it. Was it cool?”

Just then, Nero arrived at the office. He walked up to your desk and placed a cup of coffee with a shy smile.

“Good morning, Tara!” He greeted, walking to his desk.

Tara scrunched up her brows in shock and leaned to whisper to you.

“Tell me what’s going on. Has reality been altered? I didn’t see this in my cards…”

“Uhm… Let’s just say… It was a busy weekend.”

Thank you for reading! Here's a little meme:

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