#zero/reader

[megaman-fluffcanons]

Idk if this sounds weird but Can you do headcannons of X and Zero cuddling you or holding the reader close???

Not weird at all! Cuddle headcanons are always accepted here

X:

*X is a pretty big cuddle bug, but only when it comes to you

*as much as he likes the others, you are the only one he will cuddle with (unless you happen to not be there and he is need of a hug, then he’ll go to Zero)

*he just likes holding you close to him, telling you about his day/his mission, if you let him

*you like hearing him talk, so of course you’re more than happy to listen to him talk about whatever

*or he’ll let you talk about your day or whatever else you want to talk about

*but if you just want to sit in silence, you two are happy to just do that as well, as you listen to his mechanical heartbeat

Zero:

*not much of a cuddle bug as X, but will make an exception for you

*however, you have to catch him in a specific mood in order to cuddle with him

*or if he sees you’re in need of a hug/cuddle

*he’ll hold you close to him, and will not let you go for a while

*you’ll tell him about your day, or whatever you want, and he’ll listen rather intently, occasionally speaking up

*he doesn’t really mind if you two chat or sit in silence, all he really wants is to just sit with you in his arms

[moved2stagnantspaces]

I really can't manage much more than very short drabbles huh...?

“Oof, I'm so full.” They say with a sigh. There's satisfaction thick in their voice, and it only prompts Zero to look over in their direction.

The human pats at their belly, hand resting over the small dome that protrudes from their shirt. It's certainly starting to look a bit more strained than when they first met up. But they wear a sort of dreamy expression as though they have no cares in the world, even making small noises of contentment as they let the sun warm them.

It had been his idea to treat them to whatever foodstuff they desired, and there had been plenty of food vendors today in the park, which his friend clearly took advantage of, not that he was complaining. Lord knows that Zero had more money than he knew what to do with.

Zero knows he shouldn't stare—it may make him look rude, even though that's the furthest from the truth—but he really can't help it. There's always a weird warmth that seems to gather in his chest, in his core, when he gets to see them in this way. Happy, full and sated... taken care of.

It's a strange feeling, but Zero can't help but find that this a good look for the human; contented and stuffed, but most importantly, safe.

[reds-fluff-extravaganza]

omfg ur megaman stuff makes my heart melt its to die for omfgg 😭😭😭 if u still write for megaman can u write Zero x reader please?

Hiii I’m so sorry this took me so long to write! I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to write for it, and finally decided to go with the one bed trope which I’ve actually never written for until now so I hope this is okay! And of course I still write for mega man!

You and Zero were heading back to the Maverick Hunters HQ, as the two of you had been sent out on a rather long and difficult mission together. You were rather surprised that it was you that was paired up with him instead of X, since you knew how close they were and how well they worked together. However, you weren’t complaining, since you liked Zero, and liked being around him.

“It’s getting late…” you heard Zero say, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I know I can keep going, but I don’t need you getting too tired on me, Y/n.” He glanced back at you. “Besides… the base is still quite a ways away. If I remember correctly… there’s a place for us to rest nearby.” You nodded and followed after Zero. Now that he’s mentioned it, you were starting to get tired from how much you two had walked that day, and you still haven’t really caught up on much rest since the mission was over. You made a mental note to yourself that once you two made it back to base, you were going to some proper sleep.

“Alright, here we are.” You looked up to see a decent sized inn, which you two had passed on your way to where you had to be for your mission. It was definitely a good thing that Zero remembered about this place, since you… completely forgot about it. You followed Zero inside, looking around a bit as your companion went up to the front desk. It was rather nice on the inside, but you didn’t really mind if it did or didn’t, as long as it was comfortable enough for you and Zero to stay for the night.

“Come on, Y/n.” You felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at Zero.

“Alright, I’m coming.” You said as you now followed after him down a hallway. About walking a little more than halfway down the hall, he stopped in front of a door and unlocked it with the key he got a few minutes ago from the front desk. Once the door was unlocked, you followed him into the room, and he closed the door behind you. Without thinking about it, you went over to the bed, and practically face planted into the nice, comfy sheets. Zero chuckled a bit in response to your actions, shaking his head. As you sat up, it was then you noticed something.

“…There’s only one bed.” You looked over at the taller male, who was standing right by the bed now.

“Is that a problem?”

“Well, I mean, I know you don’t really need to sleep, but you need rest too, Zero. And I’m not letting you sleep on the floor. Or the couch.”

“Are you sure..?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Alright, alright.” He knew better than to try arguing with you, as he knew you would figure out some way to convince him to be by your side. He wasn’t really complaining though, since he did have feelings for you, but he didn’t really think much about them until he was around you. So when you two were paired up for this mission, he was actually very happy with it, even if he didn’t say anything about it outright.

“Zero..? Are you going to lie down, or what..?” He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard your voice. He had noticed you had gotten changed into your night clothes and now waiting for him to lie down beside you. How in the hell did you get changed so quickly??? He wasn’t going to really think about that now.

“Yeah, I was just thinking is all.” He then proceeded to lie down beside you, leaving space between the two of you, with you lying on your side, facing him. You decided to ask him something that had been on your mind for a while.

“Hey, Zero..?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you and X? Are you friends..? Are you.. dating, what?” Zero laughed a bit at the sudden question, but you noticed the soft blush on his face, which only made you question it further.

“Oh, no, Y/n, we’re not like that. Sure, we’re close, and we work well together in missions and such… but no, we’re not like that. I don’t have those kinds of feelings for him. I have… feelings for someone else.”

“Oh..?”

“…what, do you just expect me to tell you like that?”

“Well, not really.”

“Alright, tell you what, answer me this… is there a special someone waiting for you once we get back to base..?”

“That’s a very sudden question to drop on me like that, but… no, I don’t.” You were a bit confused by the question, but to be fair, you did drop an odd one of your own to him.

“Says the one suddenly asking about my love life, or rather lack there of.”

“Oh hush you.” You reached over and playfully nudged him.

“The… reason I asked you that question was because of who my feelings are for.”

“Is that so..?” Zero only nodded in response. Curious, you scoot closer to him, looking up at him. Zero noticed you move closer to him, making him blush softly in response.

“Are you sure you want to know, Y/n..?” On one hand, you absolutely wanted to know, but you didn’t… in case it wasn’t you.

“Of course, Zero! We’re best friends after all, and I am a tad curious of who has stolen your mechanical heart.”

“Well…” Zero looked a bit nervous, which surprised you, since he has never looked so nervous like this before.

“…It’s you, Y/n.”

“Me?” It was your turn to blush now. Zero, your best friend and crush, felt the same way towards you. He nodded in response, looking more nervous now.

“Oh, Zero..” he flinched a bit as you said his name like you did. You only smiled and moved closer to him, hugging him.

“I love you too.”

“You do..? You.. really do?”

“Yes, I really do.” You looked back up at him, now seeing the smile on his face as he hugged you back, holding you close to him.

“I’m glad you feel the same way…” he kissed your forehead softly, making you blush softly in response.

“Now come on, Y/n, get some sleep. We can spend more time together tomorrow when we get back to base. How does that sound?” You nodded and closed your eyes.

“Sleep well, Y/n.” Was the last thing you heard before you fell asleep in your boyfriend’s arms, a soft smile on your face. Once you got back to base, you were going to give him so much love and affection, he had no idea what was in store for him, but he loved you, so he won’t mind too much.

[superhoeva]

you nudge soap one night, and he turns to you with sleepy eyes.

“s’wrong, bonnie?”

you tell him it’s nothing. you just wanted to see if he wanted a midnight snack. the man is perking up before you can explain what you meant, smiling brightly and ripping the blanket off the both of you. ignoring your sputters, soap is in between your legs in record time, only having enough patience to pull the cotton to the side before dipping his tongue straight against your clit.

“fu-johnny, i meant food. actual food…” you trail off with a gasp, hurrying to grab at his hair, the suckle of his lips force a shiver through your legs.

“fuck yer food,” he smacks, spitting on your hole, and diving back in. “got the perfect meal right here…”

(gaz's version here!)

[no1blacksapphirefan]

CRK Self-Aware AU but it's just them being so confused why you constantly tap them in the their cookie profile.

(Can be seen as romantic or platonic, do as you will) ((Reader is unaware that they are aware))

Now I don't know if this is a common thing among CRK players but I love tapping the hell out of my favourite cookies lovingly <33 Imagine the cookies like feeling it and being so confused why, I don't think it'll hurt (At least I hope not) and watching you giggle as they like struggle to say their programmed lines as intended.

Me thinks Burning Spice would kinda like it/enjoy it. I cannot explain why. It's almost like a punch but of course not physically, like an affectionate one. If he ever finds a way out, he'll return the favour and poke you many times to your cheek.

Some cookies like Shadow Milk may take it personally first, he's trying to tell you things!! Who cares if you've heard them all already, what if he decides to say a new one to completely shock you? He eventually grows accustomed to it and learns it's your way to show how much you love him, so he'll let you get away with it for now.

Maybe Black Forest cookie quickly sees it as a loving gesture and gets all giddy knowing that she's one of your favourites out of the array of cookies you have. She's so happy. She may brag to others about it.

Black Sapphire I feel quickly understands it, it makes him more interested in you. His microphone is fixated at you constantly as you do this loving gesture. He finds it almost endearing, even though you believe that they're still some code, unaware of what you're doing and only following programming. The fact you still try to show affection like this is quite entertaining.

Pure Vanilla probably has knows what you're doing as soon as you do it, or finds out quickly as well. He's honoured to be this loved by you he can't help but chuckle as you leave to do other stuff. It's almost like a comfort to him, perhaps you did it when you finished his beast-yeast episode in means to comfort him, he appreciates it a lot.

================

These were just random thoughts based on what I do a lot haha. Feel free to leave your own thoughts in my inbox <33

-#1 Black Sapphire Fan/Listener Out!!

[xxgoldie]

lighter x reader, alcohol (lighter is drunk, nitro-fuel is alcoholic here), otherwise just pure fluff

thinking about lighter, stumbling up to you, the smell of nitro-fuel on his breath (and his shirt - he'd definitely spilled some on himself earlier, though with how unstable he was standing, you were hardly surprised). a bit of a party atmosphere had developed around steeltusk's bar tonight, and lighter had definitely had more than he should have. you had barely joined the gathering for a few minutes, relaxing a bit further from the bar, but as soon as he'd noticed you, he had made a (very wobbly) beeline for you.

"(Y/N)."

his hands went to your shoulder, using you to stabilise himself, even though his weight made you stumble a bit too.

"hi," you laughed, a rare sight to see the champion so discomposed, though he was looking into your eyes with a slightly nervewracking seriousness through those shades.

"we should get married."

it took you a couple beats to process his slurred words. heat rushed to your face, one you hoped, if someone noticed, you could blame on the one drink you'd had so far. you searched his face for the punchline, or any sort of elaboration. all you found was a similar searching - he was waiting for you to answer. he was almost pleading with his eyes, swaying a little from the alcohol - this was absurd.

"you are so drunk," was all you could muster, chuckling in disbelief. lighter collapsed against you, arms wrapping around your neck and head on your shoulder, and you swore you heard a very uncharacteristic whine leave his mouth.

"you don't want to marry me," he pouted - just how many drinks had burnice given him, that lighter lorenz, infamous red scarf of the sons of calydon, was pouting?

"hey, i didn't say that," you comforted him, instinctively petting his hair in a way he seemed to enjoy. and it wasn't a lie - it was something you had dreamed about several times, but... "i just feel like you've skipped a few steps here, you know? we're just friends, lighter. and you really are very drunk."

he picked himself up from your shoulder to look at you again, but he was so close this time, the tip of his nose barely an inch from yours, his full bodyweight still leaning on you. for the first time, you really realised the position the two of you were in, and so publicly, the crowded bar not far away. but you couldn't quite get yourself to focus on them, not when there was so little space between you, and his stupid handsome face took up your entire field of view. the musky scent of his cologne cut through the smell of nitro-fuel and it made your thoughts brain spin even more, so you waited for him to say something. you doubted you could come up with any more coherent thoughts.

"what's step one?" he said eventually. you frowned, not sure what he meant. "what?" "you said I skipped steps. what's step one?" "to marrying me??" "yeah."

once again, you had to pause to process. was this his weird, misguided, honestly really cute, way of confessing to you? there was no way - but there was a sincerity in his gaze that went past alcohol. the best answer would probably be 'ask me on a date when you're sober', but he was too pretty to be considering best answers, and your mouth moved faster than your brain did.

"probably this," you muttered, then pulled him forward by the scarf, closing the distance between you. even drunk, his reaction time was instantaneous - you were the one to initiate the kiss, but his hands were around your waist so quickly it surprised you, pulling you somehow even closer into him. it was clumsy but full of heat, and you could feel his mouth form a victorious grin against yours.

when you eventually pulled away, though, your gaze was immediately drawn away from his to the rest of the sons of calydon, who were whooping and cheering from the bar.

"yes! i told you it'd go well, lighter!" caesar called, shooting you a wink. Lighter only responded to her with a thumbs up, his head returning to rest on your shoulder again.

"did you tell him to do that?" you yelled back, head still reeling from the kiss.

"so what? neither of you were gonna take the leap sober," she replied, and you realised she wasn't behind his words - not intentionally, anyway.

"he proposed to me!"

a round of shocked laughter from the gang, except for lucy;

"he WHAT?"

i truly had no idea how to end this. but like. i love lighter so so much but i especially love him being dorky and down bad. wc: 757

[rieamena]

yeah uhh.... why are there so little fanfics about billy kid from zzz????? are we playing the same game???!??!?

like every time i see him my immediate reaction is CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG

[zg0nuwa]

i’m not switching between my hyperfixations because i’m autistic, i’m just a whore

[porcalinecunt]

Question, what if there was Von & Wrio riding fem reader? Sandwichinh her as they use both her holes roughly?👀

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅!

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ if you were squished n stuffed by giant canine men ~ <3

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐕𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐀𝐎𝐍 & 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — mean dom! wriothesley. soft dom! von lycaon. double penetration. size kink. breeding. anal sex. mentions of knot. implied polyamory(?)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : this was messily written since my last draft wasn’t saved ;-; so apologies if this ended up half baked nonie [frustrated noises]

you couldn’t get a breath in, not with two horny mutts pumping themselves in and out of your poor holes.

it was supposed to be plain, simple sex just to relieve von lycaon’s stresses. after all, being the strong-head of victoria’s housekeeping always takes a toll on him. whether taking on ethereals or watching over the young, impressionable maids. settling him down and doing all the work in pleasing him.

of course, your other lover couldn’t help himself. rudely interrupting the both of you while lycaon was balls deep inside you, undressing with a raging hard on. “what? can’t let you two have all the fun..” he chuckled.

now here you are, pressed between the two canines as they ravaged your pussy and ass at an animalistic pace.

“ah! s-slow down! plea..ahh..!”

you mewled, pleading falling on deaf ears as wriothesley gripped the back of your knees with lycaon squeezing the life out of your marked up thighs. your poor cunt, exposed and stuffed full by the duke’s ridiculous girth while the furry thiren anal fucked you.

“don’t tap out now, princess. not when you’ve been so so good to us..”

wriothesley groaned with a lustful grin, a fang could be seen peering through his lips. his pace was unforgiving, stretching your pussy out to it’s limit. you weakly lift your head up, watching the lewd scene play out in front of you. a creamy white ring already sat at the base, indicating your impending orgasm.

a large, furry paw grabbed the back of your head and forced it to face the man below you. the one stuffing your pretty little ass full of wolf cock and knot. “enjoying yourself? master y/n..?”

you nodded in response, lycaon leaning forward to capture your lips—or rather mouth—into a disgustingly passionate kiss. your eyes white from how far they rolled to the back of their heads as the thiren stuffed your mouth with his tongue.

“‘course she enjoys it..a good little lady like her would adore a dickin’ from us.” the duke chuckled, caging you between his scarred arms.

the sound of skin slapping against skin and your lover’s groans overwhelmed your head. stars filled your vision as an incoming orgasm took feeling from your legs. lycaon kept bullying his length into your tight ass, his knot pressing and growing against your sweetly sensative spot while he swallowed your mewls and begs to be bred full. your little brain was nothing but mush, only with the desire for your boys to stuff you full of cum until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“c-cumm..gonna cum!”

you sobbed, digging your nails into wriothesley’s biceps which forced a hiss through his sharp teeth. the more their cocks twitches, the harder you clenched around them, almost milking the two men till they’re fucking dry.

“woah woah..don’t clench like that baby or we’ll—fuck!” wriothesley abruptly groaned in your ear as ropes of white shot into your cunt, the sudden rush of warmth pushed out sounds that could’ve been straight out of porn. only more so when lycaon felt his own orgasm wash over him.

one final, and harsher, thrust snapped his cock deep in your ass. the sensation doubled the pleasure you were already drunk off of, it’s a shock you didn’t pass out.

“a-apologies master..i should’ve said something before—“

you pressed an intimate kiss onto the wolf’s nose, instantly shutting up whatever formalities he had. “no need, darling..” you spoke in a weak tone. the thiren wrapped his large, furry arms around your waist while the duke buried his face in your bruised up neck.

yet, the fun had only begun, as they haven’t even pulled out of your leaking holes. can’t waste a drop now, can you?

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

ft. gn!reader x anton ivanov, ben bigger, lighter, von lycaon, wise ; no applicable warnings! my first request (i tried to finish it before christmas in my timezone, but still, merry christmas to the anon who requested this :DD and to those reading!!) hehehhe i hope its good enough｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

anton ivanov

you cannot look me in the eye and tell me this man isn’t the type to yell “this is for you!” or “if i hit this you give me a kiss” and completely miss whatever target he’s supposed to hit. he hits it. sometimes. he still gets a kiss anyways.

[“dude” “we’re literally dating and you’ve placed your lips on mine do NOT call me dude.” “…babe”]

big on gift giving and words of affirmation in terms of love languages. he makes sure to put a lot of thought into whatever he gives to you to properly convey his appreciation and show just how much you mean to him.

"strong, sincere, and straightforward." he's definitely the type to encourage you to try new things especially when you're the type to get easily nervous. if you're scared of looking stupid, don't worry; he'll do it with you hand-in-hand so you can be stupid together. becomes your no. 1 hype man and would give you his honest opinions whenever you need ‘em.

you see or hear him talking to his jackhammer bro for the most mundane or random things and you've become used to it at this point. its honestly endearing (you're hopeless)

["bro do you think they'd still love me if i was a worm?" "vroom vroom vroom" “you think so?” “vroom” "yeah, you're right."]

ben bigger

scary bear privileges meaning no one wants to mess with you knowing that you're dating someone who cuts such an intimidating presence but you know better than them because ben would much rather use his paws to tap away at a calculator or spreadsheet than willingly get into fights.

on that note, he's most likely to be the best companion for grocery shopping; he'll know how to get all the good discounts and haggle for the best prices for sure.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 1. although he puts his fur care second, it's still soft and fuzzy to the touch and he likes that you appreciate the warmth it provides too.

since he struggles with some of his accounting responsibilities due to the size of his paws, sometimes you help him with sorting some of belobog industries' financial documents and eventually you end up finding the task quite relaxing after a while of doing it.

but, of course, he loves spending time with you outside of work. anything to take his mind off of the horrors of accounting. he'll mentally file away anything he learns about you when you're together for future purposes, may it be gift or date ideas.

he's the bear thiren between both of you, but in private he loves cuddling against you like you're some sort of plush toy. you don't mind. another win-win situation because you get to rest against him like a giant pillow as well.

lighter

he tries to be flirty with you and sometimes it works! but when you match his energy and it backfires on him he turns into a blushing mess who doesn’t know what to do with himself.

also the type to want to show off or act all suave. he has an image to keep as the undefeated champion! the red scarf! (he’s internally giggling and kicking his feet from one [1] cheek kiss you left in passing).

date nights with him sometimes consist of drives on his bike and stargazing at a nice little spot he found in blazewood. then halfway through, he’d get distracted from seeing the stars in your eyes and think that its a hundred times better than the real thing and fall in love all over again.

“gets as many challenges as love letters” but he makes sure that you and anyone who tries to make a move know that he only has eyes for you. could be in the form of having an arm around your waist or his jacket on you when you feel cold.

a physical touch and acts of service guy because. well. he did say he’d like to die for love one day. that’s a very romantic thing to say and do. also his heart still races whenever you hold his hand but he swears he’s getting used to it (he isn’t). probably melts when you gently run your fingers over his face or any of his scars

i honestly feel like he's one of those "me and my bae don't argue they just tell me to shut up and i do" types.

von lycaon

an ideal date for him would be a fancy dinner or picnic somewhere nice and discreet. complete with scented candles, your favorite flowers, and homecooked food (which probably tastes better than anything you've ever eaten at any restaurant). then at some point when both of you have finished eating and you're both in conversation, he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves a kiss on your knuckles.

["darling, your face is...concerningly red. are you feeling alright?" "i'm fine. i think."]

you WILL be receiving that prince/princess treatment (threat). breakfast in bed when he isn’t busy, spontaneous massages offered when you mention ONCE that you feel tired, and all that jazz. you probably will never have to open another door yourself with him around and he ALWAYS offers his arm for you to take when you're walking together.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 2. just prepare yourself for horrendous shedding as summer begins… but you don’t mind helping him brush through his fur (*´ω`*) its therapeutic and you’re one of the very few people he trusts with the task so its a win for both of you.

since he's a wolf thiren, he sometimes unwillingly attracts the attention of stray cats and dogs; he usually pays them no mind but it is somewhat of an inconvenience for him. however, the sight of you playing with them while quietly cooing eases some of his discomfort. seems like you aren't the only one suffering from cuteness aggression.

his guilty pleasure is squishing your cheeks in his hands. no i will not elaborate

wise

this is one of the random play managers we’re talking about, so. movie date nights are mandatory. both of you alternate when picking movies but sometimes you bicker over options like an old married couple just for the fun of it.

a lot more chill when it comes to PDA but he can be flirty when he wants to be. if he knows you have a weak spot for it, he uses it to his advantage to get what he wants. scheming little minx. /pos

words of affirmation and quality time guy, i think. since he's always so busy with managing the store and completing commissions alongside belle as proxies, he makes the most out of the time you guys can spend together alone. even if it's just laying in his bed or on the couch doing nothing together sometimes.

everyone and their mothers and grandmothers on sixth street will probably know that you’re dating or figure something out at some point even when both of you don’t really do much together in public/are trying to keep it on the low. never underestimate these aunties man

unfortunately for wise, he will become the target of teasing or nagging from belle when it comes to your relationship. once you get close enough she'll also share embarrassing stories from when they were younger or before you and wise started dating much to her brother’s chagrin.

secretly likes clinging and cuddling up to you like a koala. both of you are in bed? oh okay, don’t mind him, he’ll just scooch a bit and wrap his arms and legs around you, claiming that having you in his bed helps fix his insomnia (it does, to some degree). [“wise i can’t move.” “you don’t need to.”]

on the days you help out with tasks in random play, you could quite literally just be standing while doing something and then you’ll feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist from behind as he leans his head on one of your shoulders with a quiet, satisfied sigh.

[bunni-v1]

how do you think lighter would handle the reader after learning it is going to be their first time aka a virgin reader x lighter

Lighter and Virgin!Reader

🍓Yayay! I wanted to really take my time to write this one, so sorry that I didn't get it out super quick. Wrote it while listening to Christmas music btw, probably gonna write smth smutty for Christmas now. I've never written full-on smut outside of an RP setting so... apolocheese if this is cringe. You can throw tomatoes at me, I will eat them like the rodent I am.

Minors DNI

TW: NSFW; First time!; sickeningly sweet lighter; grammar errors probably lol (I promise I edit my stuff).

Info: Lighter x Reader; Nsfw; Fluffy; no pronouns but reader is fem bodied

Lighter is, and always has been, a rather simple man. While he loves you and respects you more than anything in the world, he too has thoughts that any man might have. It was only natural that he found you... mmm... titillating. You were his partner after all, and you were very good-looking if you asked him.

So many times he's found you on his lap, or beneath him whichever comes easiest at the time, drowning in your sweet lips. His hands wandered over your clothed sides, desperate for a taste of the real thing. He was addicted to you, and sweet candies couldn't placate him this time. It was heavenly having you in his grasp, so very close to everything he'd been dreaming about.

The only issue was that you always seemed to have some excuse to push him away. He'd fisted his cock one too many times alone in his room after another failed encounter, and he just didn't get it. You always seemed so eager, so pliant, right up until he slid his hands below your shirt.

The second his fingers made contact with the soft, oh-so-tempting skin there you would jump like he'd burned you. Then you'd push his eager hands down and come up with some lame reason to leave. He understood that maybe you weren't ready, that was okay, but didn't you feel safe enough to tell him? No, surely something else was going on. He could tell, there was something else that was holding you back, and he was going to figure it out.

Tonight would be the perfect chance to do just that. The girls were busy doing their own thing at the bar, leaving him with all the free time in the world to be alone with you. As usual, he had you on his lap, mouths working against each other. His tongue pressed into yours, happily exploring its space as he swallowed up your whimpers and whines.

Fingers press into your thighs like a vice, desperate for all the skin they can get their hands on. As you wind your fingers into his hair, he takes it as his sign to slide his hands up to your hips, slowly pressing you down into him. You jolt a little in his grasp, drawing a low chuckle from the back of his throat. So cute.

You pull back from him, a thin string of saliva keeping you connected, eyes wide and face flushed. Your chest heaves with effort, and your hair is an absolute disaster. It makes his cock twitch in his jeans, another gasp falling from your pretty swollen lips at the sensation.

"Lighter..." You say breathlessly, and he knows its meant to be a scolding remark, but he just finds it too cute.

He cocks his head to the side, "What? Too much to handle?"

You give him an eye roll that is all too endearing, trying and failing to straighten out your messy hair, "It's getting late, I should probably head to mine soon."

His smile falls from his face, disappointed again, like clockwork. He can't even find it in himself to hide it anymore, which makes you frown too. You press a kiss on his cheek, apologetically, "What's wrong? Why is my champion pouting?"

The pet name is almost enough to get him to forget everything, but then you shift on his lap a little and his hard-on screams at him to at least get some kind of answer. So he sighs, patting the meat of your thigh almost sadly, "Why do you always do that?"

You raise an eyebrow, which he mirrors. You know better than to play dumb, Lighter can see right through the schtick. Your demeanor cracks first, and you seem genuinely nervous as you respond, "I don't know..."

"Listen, baby. If you're not ready all you gotta do is tell me--" He tries to soothe you, because he doesn't want you to be upset. There was no shame in just not being ready, but you cut him off before he can finish his reassurances.

"No, it's not-" A grumble leaves your chest, "I want to, I really do I just... I get nervous."

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow at you, sunglasses slanting down his nose as he tilts his head curiously, "What's there to be nervous about...?"

You fluster, looking anywhere your eyes can find that wasn't him. You were awfully cute when you were embarrassed, but he couldn't let himself get distracted. With the gentlest touch to your chin, he refocuses your attention on him. A reassuring smile on his face, urging you without words to tell him what was wrong.

Some kind of war goes on behind your pretty little eyes, and he has to tap your lip with his thumb to center you again. You pout against the finger, and it takes everything in him not to push it up and into your mouth. Finally, after what seemed like ages of waiting, you give another sigh. "I'm... a virgin."

"Oh," he says, automated like a robot. It takes his brain a moment to click the gears together, but once they do, he nods. Oh. That makes so much sense.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, pressing off his chest to get up, but he tugs you back into his lap. Giving you a reassuring squeeze, praying to whatever there was out there for you to give him a moment to collect his thoughts.

It really isn't a big deal to him, not at all. He'd taken people's virginity before - former partners he doesn't even remember the names of - but you. Getting to be your first? It felt like the world had both blessed and cursed him at the same time. You didn't have a good frame of reference, which was great. He'd be the best partner you've had. Yet... he'd also be the only partner you've had, and that was a lot of pressure to put on a guy like him.

"Lighter?" You squeak out, face all nervous and cute in a way that just drives him wild.

A huff leaves him before he can think better of it, causing you to frown a little. His arms wrap around your middle, tugging you closer to him, "That's all? Here you had me thinking you weren't attracted to me all of a sudden."

The response takes you off guard, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Had you genuinely thought that would be a turn-off for him? What do you take him for, some prude? "I- I mean, you know... I don't have any experience, and I figured since... since you had it would just-"

He hushes you, trying his best not to laugh at how ridiculous the thought is. Most guys would leap to be in his shoes, it was a loser's wet dream to take some innocent angel like you and ruin you. Not Lighter, though. Despite how many times he'd fucked his hand thinking about your pretty little body, he would make sure your first time was perfect. He really needed it to be perfect.

"I don't care about that, baby." There's a teasing lilt in his tone that sends shockwaves down your spine, "I just want you to be happy."

It was your turn to be dumbfounded, staring at him like he had spoken forbidden texts in tongues you didn't understand. He tilts your head with the hand still holding your chin, and it's incredibly sexy the way his sunglasses dip a little so you can see the genuineness in his eyes.

"Would it make you happy if I took your virginity?" You give a slow, dumb nod, and he presses closer, "Do you wanna try tonight?"

Lighter watches with thinly veiled amusement as the pieces slip into place for you, face so warm he could feel it at this distance. You seem to have stalled a bit, so he gives you an award-winning smile and taps your lips to remind you to use them.

"Yes. Please." You blurt out, and it's so incredibly unsexy and awkward, but he still bites his lip like you were sex incarnate.

He gives you all but three seconds to admire the (so, so incredibly hot) look on his face before he's picking you up with no effort, hands wrapped under the swell of your ass like they were made to be there. You cling to his shoulders like a lifeline, and his cock strains in his stupidly tight jeans as he imagines you doing so without the jacket between your skin.

"Where are we going?" You ask, voice uneasy.

He smirks at you, "You didn't seriously think I was gonna let your first time be on some dingy outdoor couch, did you?"

You're silent all the way to his quarters after that, warm face buried into the crook of his shoulder. He can feel how nervous you are in the shaky breaths you let puff out onto his neck. He gives your butt a reassuring pat, which only makes you burrow yourself further into his neck.

He doesn't get to see your face again until he carefully lies you on his bed, and he's glad for it too. The nervous shimmer in your eyes would've been enough for him to bend you over any surface in a heartbeat. Your teeth nibble awkwardly on your swollen bottom lip, and he resists the urge to take it in between his own, instead busying his hands with shrugging off his jacket so he doesn't do exactly that.

You look near terrified when he climbs on top of you, so leans down to kiss your forehead, and in the gentlest voice he can muster whispers, "We'll go slow, but we gotta take our clothes off if we wanna do anything, m'kay?"

You give him a slow nod, slowly drifting your eyes down to his tight-fitting t-shirt. Once you seem to calm a little, he leans down and starts right where you left off. Capturing your lips in a soft kiss, slowly easing back into the passion from earlier. His hips press into yours, but they remain still against your heat. He would let you decide when you were ready for that again.

His hands eagerly slid around your thighs, squeezing the fat between his fingers and sighing as they sank against his touch. Always so malleable, it was addictive, but he couldn't get ahead of himself. This was all about you, after all.

Slowly, he inched his digits up to the edge of your shirt, pooling the fabric between them. You give a little jolt, pressing against his crotch a little harder than he expected drawing a hiss from between his teeth. He rubs his nose against yours, "Can we get rid of your shirt?"

Another slow, unsure nod, and he's easing you up just enough that he can tug the offending fabric up and out of the way. (No bra, thank god, he sucks at removing them.) The sight it reveals better than Lighter could've begun to imagine. Your chest rises and falls with your breath, mesmerizing him. You give him an unsure smile, nodding your head along with it, and he thinks he might genuinely die tonight.

He does not suddenly go into cardiac arrest, so instead his hands glide over your stomach, and it's everything he dreamed of and more. The skin is like heaven beneath his calloused fingertips, and the light whimpers and whines you give him are honey in his ears. You shift with every touch, jerking away and then easing into his touch. Unsure, but oh so willing and wanting.

He maps out each inch of your skin like he might lose his way exploring it, tracing all the way to the final destination of your chest. Your nipples are hard already in combination with his touching and the cold air around you. He gives you one last look, one last chance to tell him no, and then he runs his thumb over the tops of them.

The sound you make is delicious, something between a moan and a strangled choking noise -- almost confused at the pleasure you are feeling. He rolls them in his fingers a few times, watching your face intently as he does so. Your confused moans melt into sighs of contentment, so he decides to try his luck with his mouth. With your head rolled back, he ensures you can feel his breath before he presses his tongue to your skin.

You shoot up, gasping in surprise, but you don't make any move to push him away. No, instead you rake your fingers through his hair, pushing his shaggy bangs back so you can really look at him. Those emerald eyes lock with yours, making a show of slowly kissing his way back up to your chest. Along the contours of your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, and finally right down to your perky bud.

Lighter takes a moment to really appreciate just how nice it looks up close, rather than through the fabric of your tank tops. Just the perfect size for sucking on, he thinks right before he engulfs the needy thing in his mouth. You throw your head back, chest hefting with your cry of "Fuck, Lighter."

He hums, only making it so much worse for you, the vibrations sending a shock through your body that makes you twist your hips just right. He takes his sweet time with your breasts, alternating between the two until you're a messy puddle below him. He hadn't even gotten past the waistband of your pants yet, and you were already so far gone. It was an ego booster, to say the least.

His free hand draws its way down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your pants. They dance their way along your abdomen, just itching to be let in, but not willing to disrespect your boundaries. Lucky for him, they don't have to wait long, and your own join him and carefully aid him in their removal.

It's then that he finally gives your chest a break, pulling back to tug your pants down your legs. Giving himself the time to finally admire you. He'd left... more than a few purple marks along your chest, all of which he thinks look incredibly nice in the light of the moon. His eyes trace their way down your stomach, just like his hands had, and land on the underwear you still had on.

They weren't particularly cutesy or sexy, but on you, it was the hottest thing he'd seen in years. They had a sizable wet spot in the middle, right where he wanted- no, needed to be. The only thing standing between him and tasting you was that thin piece of fabric.

A tug at the hem of his shirt draws him out of his daze, meeting eyes with your cute, nervous ones. It takes him a second to realize you wanted his shirt off, but once he gets the message, he wastes no time in shrugging it to the ground. Following it with his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

Your eyes trace their way along his figure, over his shoulders, across his stomach, and settle shyly on the outline of his dick. It only occurs to him then that you might find him just as attractive as he finds you. With eyes blown wide and distracted as you drink him all in, it's hard to avoid how much you're admiring the view right now.

He has the decency to act embarrassed, despite how he was practically drooling all over you just a few moments ago. He shivers when you reach up and trace your fingers over a scar, breath catching in his throat. "They're so pretty," you mutter, completely unaware that you had said that out loud. It could honestly make him cry. The way you look at him like he's some kind of art piece. So much love and admiration in your eyes. He can't handle it for long, even though you seem to be content just admiring his scars.

He grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he presses you back into the mattress. You let out a huff as he pressed his forehead to yours, pouting now that he had interrupted your show. He gives you a few apologetic kisses, smiling at your pouting.

"Are you sure you wanna keep going, we can stop now if you want," he whispers, soft and gentle.

You nod, confident this time, "I'm ready. I wanna do this with you, Lighter. Not anyone else."

That makes his heart swell, sending the feeling right down to his dick, throbbing and reminding him he needs to prepare you. He wasn't usually one to brag, but he knew he was big, and it would be a tough take for your first time. If he wanted you to enjoy it, he'd have to take care to loosen you up first.

"Okay," he hums, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms from his nightstand, setting them nearby for when he needs it, "I'm gonna have to loosen you up first, and it's gonna hurt. You sure you can take it?"

He feels your muscles contract as he trails gentle, feather-light pecks along the edge of your underwear. "You'll take care of me, just like you always do..." Ah, you were gonna be the death of him tonight, he just knows it.

He hooks his fingers over the sides of your underwear, carefully tugging them down your legs like unwrapping a present he didn't want to ruin. What a gift he received as he threw the useless fabric to the floor, your pretty little cunt already drooling for him.

"God..." He mutters out, enchanted at the very sight. He adjusts his position one last time, making sure he is perfectly positioned in front of your gorgeous pussy. The view is something straight out of a porno, Lighter's messy hair shadowing his eyes as they stare into your very being, big hands gripping at your thighs -- like he was readying himself to consume you whole.

"You ready, baby?" He asks one last time, though it's painfully hard to do so now that he was literally right where he wanted to be, "Cause if you're not you better say so now, I don't think I could stop myself once I start, angel."

You give him the slowest nod known to man, followed by a timid little 'yes' and he's gone. His strong arms wrap under and rest atop your thighs, carefully pulling your folds apart to reveal the shining pearl he'd been dreaming of. Involuntarily he huffs out a hot breath, causing you to squirm a little in his grasp, and then he leans down and kisses your clit.

You jolt at the new sensation, another awkward breathy moan leaving your lips. He pulls back to give you a second, watching your expressions and committing them all to mind, and then he licks his lips and leans down for another wet kiss against your neglected bud. Then another, and another, and another, and at some point his tongue joins the barrage but you have no idea when. Too caught up in how good he's making you feel. So much better than your own fingers.

Lighter is in heaven, completely surrounded by nothing but you. Your little sighs, your skin, your sweet smell, and of course your juices dripping down his chin. You tasted so amazing, better than all the candies he ate. He swallowed you like a man starved, arguably more desperate for your pleasure than you were. Your little whines of his name only fueled him to suck on the little bud like a sweet treat, humming at the taste.

He wondered how many more moans he could get out of you if he added a finger... He had to stretch you out anyway, seems like now was better a time than any. One hand unwound itself from under your leg, snaking along the sheets right up under your bum.

Without taking his eyes or mouth off you he gently traces around your hole with his middle and index. Your hips grind up into his mouth, and he feels the way you clench against his fingertips. A smile grows on his face, god you were adorable, weren't you? He presses the tip of his finger into your heat, and you squeeze around it sucking him in like nothing.

"Shit..." He groans against you, the grumble going right through your nerves drawing a delicious moan out of you. He slowly pumps his finger at the same pace as his tongue, when it rolls across your clit, the finger presses up into you again. The white, hot pleasure that curls up your spine and through your body makes you arch your back. If he kept it up like this, you would cum faster than you ever had before.

Unfortunately, he pulls back and you whine like a needy child. He presses his thumb to your clit instead of his mouth as compensation, rolling in sweet little circles. Not nearly as pleasurable, but still enough to make your head spin, especially when you watch him press his cheek to your thigh to watch his own ministrations.

He is mesmerized by the way your hips jerk into his touch, his finger disappearing and reappearing over and over awfully stimulating for his relatively blank mind. His eyes lazily roll up to yours, smirking when he sees you watching him with lidded ones. "You like it, baby?"

You mutter an incoherent sound of approval, head falling back to the pillows, but that doesn't do it for him. He grabs your face with his free hand, focusing your expression on him yet again. As he does so, he eases a second finger in and you let out the most sinful moan of his name he's ever heard. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh, encouraging you to keep making those pretty noises.

He keeps on watching you, eyes having trouble focusing on both your face and your messy cunt. They're both such a good show, how could he be expected to pick which one was better. All the while he was sucking marks into your inner thigh, adding to the growing coil below your naval.

It was all too much for your poor little untouched body. His eyes watching you so carefully, the sting of his teeth on your thighs, his calloused thumb rubbing delightfully perfect circles against your swollen clit. You couldn't even think about anything other than how nice his fingers felt with circular motions right against that spot that your fingers could never reach.

"Lighter..." Your voice is so much more airy than you thought it would be, "I'm-"

He hums, understanding you without you needing to say anything at all. He removes himself from your thigh, climbing over to press his forehead against yours without stopping his movements. He wanted to see the face you made when you cum clearly. Wanted to have it etched into every corner of his brain so he could never dream of forgetting it.

"Go on then, I've got you," He encourages, and that's all it takes for the tight ball in your stomach to burst, and the flood of pleasure to take its place. You spasm around his fingers, juices coating them and dripping down his wrist. It's a beautiful thing to Lighter, watching the way your face scrunches up and then melts into pure pleasure. That was a face he could never forget, not in a million lifetimes.

He keeps his fingers moving at a slow and steady pace, easing you back down from your high. Only pull them out when you stop clenching around them, sucking your essence clean from them with a groan of satisfaction. "Delicious," He whispers, easing you back into the sheets, limbs soft and limp with the pleasant aftershocks of your orgasm.

Lighter is still there above you, watching with all the admiration in the world as your gaze refocuses on him. It's an infectious look that you subconsciously mirror, cradling his face in the palm of your hand.

"Feel good?" He asks, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

You nod, pressing a kiss to his nose, "Wonderful, actually. I don't know what I was so scared of."

He chuckles deep and warmly from the back of his throat, "I'm glad."

He presses gentle kisses across your cheek, nosing along your jaw and following with soft presses into the sensitive skin. You scratch his scalp appreciatively, more than happy to accept the affections.

"You wanna call it there?" He murmurs against your throat, hot breath leaving goosebumps in its wake, "Don't wanna push you too far."

You shake your head, frowning down at him, "No, no. I wanna keep going. It's not fair of me to leave you like... that." You gesture to his still rock-hard dick pressed against your thigh.

He comes back up to look at you, caressing your face with utmost care, "Don't worry about me, I can live without getting off."

"I know," you giggle, and it's such a sweet sound to him, "I want to, Lighter. I want you. Please indulge me just a little longer?"

He really can't argue with that, not with how you're smiling at him. "Alright," He sits up, grabs the condoms, and rips the box open with practiced ease, "but it's not gonna feel good to start."

"I know," You answer, sitting up to watch him slide his boxers down. His cock springs out, tip an angry red and bleeding precum down the shaft. It was an incredibly hot sight to see him slide the condom over himself, his muscles flexing from the much-needed attention. "I definitely know."

He smirks, settling between your legs again as he picks up the lube this time. "Enjoying the view?"

"Too much," you respond, enraptured as he tugs along his member a few times, shuddering at the sensation.

He takes the time to adjust you beneath him, tugging your hips up in an angled position. The manhandling is surprisingly hot, and your heart skips a beat when he grabs at your thigh more roughly than you're used to.

"I hope I can keep you satisfied," he muses, lining himself up with your pussy.

He runs the tip against your clit a few times, spreading a mixture of lube and your cum around, hissing to himself at the feeling. He wasn't even inside and he was already needing more of you, god what did you do to him?

He presses the tip against your weeping hole, hot and desperate against him. It fluttered in anticipation, feeling far too empty knowing what his fingers felt like. It had you praying to know what his cock felt like fully pressed inside. Surely it would fill you up even better.

His emerald green eyes come down to stare into yours, an intensity you've only ever seen from him in fights burning behind them. "Ready?"

You take a deep breath and then nod as assuredly as you can. You had no idea what you were getting into, but as the tip slowly sunk into you, you felt lightheaded. The sting was deep, drawing a hiss of pain out of you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He wasn't lying when he said it would hurt, but this was way worse than you expected.

He leans down, locking his fingers with yours and pressing loving kisses along your cheeks. His hair tickles your skin and it does wonders in distracting you from the burn of his stretching you. That was just the tip. If you couldn't handle that, how could you take the rest of him?

Lighter doesn't let you worry about it, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. Muttering sweet nothings into your sweaty skin, worshipping you like a god. Like you were his whole world. In his pleasure-fueled haze, that was more truth than it was fiction.

For every stinging inch, Lighter muttered praises and peppered a thousand more kisses across your burning skin. This was the most full you'd ever felt, and the more he pushed inside the more you wanted. He stuffed himself in to the hilt, stopping fully when his hips were pressed flush against yours. You shuddered at the sensation of his tip kissing your cervix. When he said he was big he meant it, and it was everything you wanted and more.

His rough hands slide gently along your sides, coaxing you to just look at him. Your glazed eyes slide over to his face, and you smile dumbly at his expression. His face is red, brows furrowed in concentrated effort and eyes clouded in lust. "You okay? Still hurt?"

You shake your head, chest rising and falling with more effort than you were used to. "It feels good. I like it."

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Fuck, he just can't stand it. You were so tight and warm, sucking him in like he was your last meal. He could feel your pussy clench around him suddenly, and he had to bury his face into your neck to stop himself from moaning out loud.

Who could've imagined a few years without sex would make him so weak. Maybe it was actually just you that made him like this. He couldn't possibly imagine any pussy better than yours, it felt like it was molded perfectly just for him. The thought occurs to him, like a stroke of genius, that this was his pussy and it was molded to him. Now that you let him fuck you once, he could do it again and again and again whenever either of you liked.

He liked that idea a lot more than he probably should, his cock twitching a little at the prospect. You squeeze back and he does moan this time, deep and throaty into your neck. It's quite the sound from such a big guy, making your skin tingle excitedly. You had been the reason for it, after all, it was flattering.

"Lighter?" You say, startling him. He looks up at you from his spot against your shoulder, "Can you move? I'm too full with you just sitting there."

He blinks at you, taking in your words carefully and digesting them. Yeah, you were gonna kill him tonight. You had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"Whatever you want," He mumbles out, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, before slowly pulling out.

You groan out in tandem, the drag of his cock and a squeeze of your walls more pleasurable than you'd imagined. Then he pushes back in at the same pace and you shudder in his arms. He keeps the pace slow and easy, still able to remember that he wanted to be gentle despite how much he wished to be anything but. First time, he echoed in his head, take it easy Lighter.

Each drag of his cock against your plush warm insides has you gasping out, desperate for more and more. He watches you with an intensity to rival his excitement during a fight, taking in each detail with careful consideration. The way your brows scrunch up when he brushes that gummy spot with his tip, and how your teeth tug on your lips, and the way your eyelashes flutter when his hips lay flush into yours.

Lighter never considered himself an artist, but damn if you weren't his greatest masterpiece like this. You open your eyes and finally look at him, and the intensity in his gaze has you shying away into your palms. He can't have that, he wanted to look, so he grabbed your wrists and set them on his shoulders. They curl into the skin, crescent-shaped marks sure to form in the morning.

You still try to evade his gaze, so he follows with his own face, leaning forward. "Don't hide," he coos, his hands moving your hips with his upper body so he's fully leaning over you now, the new position allowing him to not only look at you but hit much deeper than before. "Lemme see yer pretty face."

A wanton moan is ripped from your throat as he picks up his pace, and you finally look at him when he grabs at your chin. His hair is stuck to his sweaty forehead, breathing heavily as he keeps up the new speed he's set. The wild look in his eyes is enough to make you clench and get to watch in real-time the effect it has on him. Swallowing hard as his eyebrows come together in pleasured surprise.

You were making it so, so hard on him, really you were. Each reaction you had made it so much more difficult to keep himself together. When you clench around him again he lets out a sound between a sigh and a squeak. Your fingers are running along the nape of his neck and through his hair, and it's nearly got him choking on air.

You're no better, hardly even coherent as his hips continue pistoning in and out of you at such consistent pacing. The wet slapping of skin on skin is the only thing you can focus on, everything else is too much for your muddled brain to understand.

The hand that isn't keeping your eyes on him comes down to massage your clit again, fingers splayed across your abdomen to feel himself through your skin while his thumb takes care of you. He was close, and he could tell you were too. Your moans getting more and more desperate, and the squeezing you gave him more and more desperate to keep him moving.

He didn't have it in himself to say anything coherent, so instead he settled on kissing you. Sloppy and uncoordinated and more teeth than anything else, but he still kissed you. Swallowing up every moan like a man starved.

His pace grows sloppy as he chases your highs, both of you moaning unabashedly loudly. He would hear from Lucy in the morning, he was sure of it, but that didn't matter too much to him now. Not when he felt you come undone around him. Your whole body tensed, desperate little cunt squeezing him in a vice grip and moans so delicious that he couldn't help but follow your lead.

He gives one last harsh thrust, and then he unloads into the condom. He thinks for a moment that he wishes it wasn't there but focuses instead on sucking at the juncture of your neck. You writhe under him, fingers raking down his back harsh enough to leave red lines in his skin.

It was better than he had expected it to feel, that was for certain. Even as he calmed down and came back to reality, there were little sparks of pleasure ringing through his body. He kissed his way over the marks he'd left on your body, waiting patiently for you to calm down before he pulled out.

Both of you let out sounds of complaint at the loss, but he knew that he couldn't stay inside you forever (no matter how nice that sounded). He smiled warmly down at you, caressing your face with such gentleness it could make you cry. "You alright...?"

You nod, brushing the hair out of his face so you can look at him properly, "This is probably the best I've ever felt in my whole life."

That gets him to laugh, pressing his forehead against yours, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Did you-" You start, but he doesn't let you finish before he responds.

"Yes. I did enjoy myself, very much, baby." He hums, washing away any insecurities you could've had with ease.

He eases you up into a sitting position with him, holding you there until he is sure you will stay like that by yourself. Then, he stands and digs around his dresser for a towel to wipe you down with. You take the time to admire how nice his ass is out of those skinny jeans, humming to yourself at the sight.

When he rejoins you on the bed, you smirk at him, "Your ass is nice."

"Yeah," he huffs out a laugh, "Yours ain't all that bad either."

You let him do what he needs to, wiping you of sweat and any fluids that might become uncomfortable after a while. Then he does the same for himself, and the show is rather nice. When he finishes cleaning the both of you up, he crawls into bed and pulls you to his chest.

You take your chance to trace over the scars again, admiring just how pretty his marred skin is. He doesn't say a word, and you have the understanding not to make verbal comments now. The warmth of his chest combined with the pleasant ache in your limbs was enough to lull you to sleep.

The last thing you hear is Lighter mumble a quiet, "I love you." Though you don't respond, you know he knows you feel the same way.

[megaman-fluffcanons]

Since we got wedding head canons for X and Zero I would very much like to know how they would propose/react to being proposed to

X:

Being proposed to: X would be quite surprised, having to take a few seconds to process that you, the love of his life, are proposing to him. He immediately pulls you into a hug while say ‘yes’ over and over, that he loves and adores you so much

Proposing: He would be a nervous wreck, having prepared a few things to say beforehand, but as he goes to actually propose, those words go right out the window so he just has to improvise

Zero:

Being proposed to: Zero is also a little surprised, as he had been planning to do the same, but doesn’t mind that you beat him to it. He doesn’t have to take a moment to process, he’ll pull you into a hug and tell you how much he loves you before telling you yes. 

Proposing: He’s actually surprisingly confident, already having a few things to say as he proposes to you. However, he does get a little nervous as he awaits your response.

[dooberific]

❝𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘔𝘳. 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘢.❞

harumasa x afab!reader

genre/warnings: suggestive, nsfw mentions, he’s just a boy loser guys idk what you want me to say

summary: you are order, and he is chaos. He thinks you’re his type, and you think he deserves a good tease for the trouble he’s caused you.

wc: 1.8k

Asaba Harumasa was convinced that Deputy Chief Tsukishiro had made up her mind to finally put an end to his existence.

Now sure he liked to skimp on his paperwork every now and then, or call out sick for multiple days in a row, or do whatever he could to clock out early, or fall asleep at his desk (all things he firmly understands don’t help his case), but this? Convincing the Chief to let her handpick an “executive assistant” to run the Section 6 office like a real prison? He was sure it violated some law against war crimes and torture.

You were everything his existence in the unit contradicted and he knew it from the moment you stepped through the doors of their suite in a perfectly pressed skirt suit and a terrifyingly cool expression on your face.

It was like Yanagi spawned a twin of herself, one that’s sole purpose was to work every kink in the system out by force and relieve the paperwork load so effectively that even the dedicated Deputy Chief was able to clock out of work on time. Your critique was swift and harsh, and the execution of your corrections to the administrative side of their work just as damning. Within a week the sound of your heels clicking on the tiles was enough to draw a fear response out of him and Soukaku (though she was spared more of your wrath and gained your affections, further solidifying his theory that you are yanagi’s more evil twin).

You were order. You were dependable. You were the warden of a paper prison that ruled with an iron fist.

And you were totally his type.

He didn’t even realize it in the beginning, after all, you were like a monster from one of his nightmares. Very little slipped past your keen eye, forcing him into the submission of not cutting corners and actually doing his job. You were particularly hard on him, but he had to contribute most of that to the fact that he resisted the change as long as he could before he lived in fear of the snap of a folder of incorrect paperwork back onto his desk and a disapproving glare on your face.

Maybe it was the fact that you were never inherently mean about things too. You were very fair and worked diligently to boost morale, he couldn’t count the times you footed the bill for drinks after a big mission, and you always offered praise for improvements. You had everyone’s coffee order memorized too, everyone coming into the office bright and early to a hot coffee or tea of their preference already on their desks next to a neatly printed agenda customized to their schedules. Oh, and those tight little skirts you wore over your sheer stockings certainly didn’t help him to not like you, but that was neither here nor there.

The first to arrive and the last to leave, your dedication pretty much knew no bounds, and that’s exactly how he ended up in the position he was in now.

He had made it through his night shift by the grace of whatever powers existed in the universe, and promptly crashed on the sectional tucked into the corner of the office, choosing not to expend the energy to walk back to his apartment when he would have to be at the office first thing in the morning for a big meeting anyways. The plan was to wake up early enough to hit one of the locker room showers to freshen up and get himself looking half decent.

The plan died immediately upon him snoozing his first alarm. Then it shriveled a little more with the second snooze. The third snooze was him digging the plan up to kill it again. By the fourth time he was basically dancing on the grave of his plan and digging his own grave while he was at it, because there was no plan conceived that involved you showing up early.

It was muscle memory triggered by the click of your heels as you entered the suite that shocked him out of sleep as he practically rocketed upright with bleary eyes and a sleep muddled brain struggling to catch up with his body’s dramatic response. It was enough that you fully paused in your tracks, coffee cup hovering millimeters from your lips as you eyed him with thinly veiled confusion.

“Good morning, Mr. Harumasa.”

“Good morning, Miss (y/n).” He yawned out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he squinted into the bright office lights.

While you found it humorous to watch the wheels in his brain slowly begin to turn in real time, the brutal hand of time waited for no one and you were nothing if not punctual. Your lips quirked momentarily as you checked the time, eyes darting from your dainty wristwatch back to your dear newly awakened coworker.

Asaba Harumasa’s lack of care for the precision of his work uniform was a hill you had chosen not to die on from the very beginning. You weren’t the dress code police after all, and he wasn’t so dramatically out of regulation that it irked you or anything like that. Most days. But today wasn’t most days, because most days you had a solid hour of silence to prepare for your day, and he would saunter in fashionably late, pass you some lame pickup line, then slink back to his desk where he promptly assumed the look of a kicked puppy until his paperwork was done and he could leave. He had been so methodical about this routine that this disturbance almost took you by surprise.

Almost.

It did bring you a new challenge however. He looked like a total wreck. His hair was matted on one side while the other dramatically cowlicked out in three directions, there were sleep marks on the side of his face from the couch upholstery, his tie was loosely hanging on to one side just pinned enough by his rumpled collar that it hadn’t fully fallen off, his shirt was wrinkled to high heavens and unbuttoned down to his navel revealing a very well sculpted chest, and were those the outline of abs you were seeing—?

You cleared your throat as you averted your eyes, thanking your lucky stars that he was still half clinging to this side of reality. How embarrassing it would have been to be caught practically ogling his body like some degenerate teenager! You are not one to stare, let alone ogle. It was completely uncharacteristic, you were a dedicated administrative assistant after all, you were immune to anything that threatened the routine flow of your workplace.

Right?

Right. Your carefully crafted defenses had not failed you, and it was simply an undiagnosed heart condition that had rendered you breathless every morning for the past three months as you locked yourself in a stall in the women’s bathroom to calm the hot flush that burned your cheeks and the thundering of your heart behind your ribs at the coy tone of his voice as he hammered you with another pick up line before walking away like nothing ever happened.

This was simply a new hurdle to your morning. Nothing more, nothing less, and you had a duty to perform on the behalf of your entire section to ensure the morning went off without a hitch. Definitely no ulterior motives.

You sighed heavily as you set your coffee and bag down on the edge of his desk before propping yourself upon the flat surface, a hand coming down to tap it impatiently.

“You look like a wreck. Come here, Asaba.”

If hearing his surname fall from your pretty painted lips wasn’t a wake up call for his brain enough, the sight of you in all your glory seated upon his desk certainly was. He practically scurried from his spot on the couch to you as if efficiency was going to save him from the wrath of the office warden, electrifying eyes dancing nervously as he attempted to readjust his tie.

“Take it easy on me boss, I had a long night and—,” he never finished his thought as your manicured nails wrapped around his tie, yanking him forward till his hands braced against the desk on either side of you, caging you between him and his own designated workspace.

This close and he could smell the pretty floral undertones of your perfume as he sucked in a shaky breath, eyes blown wide compared to your own ever-cool expression. You met his gaze, stifling the smirk that threatened your lips.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Harumasa? Not feeling chatty this morning?” You pressed, your thighs parting just enough to slot his body between them.

He really hoped there was a merciful god out there somewhere that was orchestrating all of this, cause he was feeling so damn tired but he was ready to die a happy man between your thighs if you’d let him. He swore your skirt had to be a little shorter today ‘cause how else was that lace edge of your stockings peeking out from under the hem of your skirt? If you slid your leg up a little higher he’s sure he’d get a peek of your pretty thigh fat bulging over the edge of the elastic band snuggly bound around your upper thigh.

His fingers twitched as he felt his blood run south at the very thought, catalyzed by the way you leaned in so close, hands running from his chest to his waistband in a sinfully slow manner.

“Oh, don’t tell me no one’s ever…,” your tone was sultry as your breath tickled his ear, your fingers latching around his buckle as you slid your body closer to the edge of the desk, feeling him shudder as he failed to stifle a nervous squeak.

“Helped you get ready?”

He would love to say that he pinned you to his desk and gave you exactly what you were asking for, that he kissed you stupid as he wrestled that damn skirt up just high enough to press aside those lace panties he just knows you love and sink into your pretty cunt and make you beg for him. That your nails left a burning impression down his back that seared his skin as perfectly as the hot kisses that stained the column of his neck every shade of your favorite lipstick. That the office of Section 6 sounded more like a filthy wet dream straight from a porno than a sterile work environment, and that he would never be able to look at his desk without remembering how pretty you looked bent over it crying for him.

There’s a lottttt of things he would love to say. At this point mostly profanities as he blinked stupidly back at you, your hands busy as you neatly fastened his tie all the way up to the base of his throat, his shirt now perfectly tucked and buttoned as well.

You hummed in satisfaction at your work, hands bracing his shoulders as you guided him away from his desk so you could slide gracefully off it yourself, pausing just to smooth your skirt.

“See, isn’t that better?” You said with pride, swiping up your coffee cup as you took a sip, marching to your little desk in the corner as if nothing had ever transpired.

“Now go fix your hair and get ready for the meeting, the others should be arriving soon.” You called over your shoulder, never looking back in fear of your expression cracking at how bewildered he looked.

Oh, he would certainly be fixing something in the bathroom, but his hair was the least of his concerns right now.

Rey 2024, crossposted to ao3

[gtgbabie0]

Bi Han x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: {Bi-Han did not have many weaknesses— but you?… you could make him completely fall apart}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

!!-18//MDNI-!! Enjoy my lovelies 💕

It was a rare moment to see your husband so at peace, his brows unfurled and his shoulders relaxed, the sight was welcoming— you daren’t even speak not wanting to break the silence that had blanketed itself around the steamy atmosphere.

The hot springs were always a nice way to end a stressful week, the warmth of the water chased away that chill that nipped the air not to mention how good he looked— his hair pulled back into a bun with a few stubborn strands that fell to frame his face, the way the water glistened across his chest and his toned arms that were resting upon the smooth rocks… you were lucky indeed.

Although such silence spoke more to Bi-Han than words did, he could sense your tender gaze upon him and knew exactly what was going through your mind— perhaps that’s why the corners of his lips twitch up into a small smile, he knew you far too well.

“Will you join me anytime soon or will you just keep staring?” He asks, his voice deep and almost commanding beneath the softness that seems to overtake him in your presence. He opens his eyes to look up at you standing there with a silk robe wrapped around your body tightly.

A small scoff falls from your lips as you roll your eyes, averting your gaze in an attempt to be respectful— and to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“I am not staring… just admiring, there’s a difference.” You mutter the response softly, fiddling with your fingers.

“Well your admiring is almost too polite, come here.” His tone carries a certain twinge of playfulness, something you don’t hear a lot from him save for in private— where he can let that mask of his slip and open his heart to you.

With that you let your robe drop, the silk rippling against the curves of your body to pool at your feet leaving you bare for him and he shamelessly drinks in the sight, his gaze dragging along the slope of your shoulders down towards your chest and over your hips and thighs— he was absolutely enraptured by you, every single inch.

Bi-Han’s gaze follows you closely as you step down the stone stairs and into the hot waters, wading closer to him. It was almost a shame to call you mortal because it was clear to him that the gods were your creators, sculpted beneath their fingertips.

Especially right now, with the pale light of the moon kissing your skin and casting an otherworldly glow around your body— you are the girl that all the poets write about.

“You’ve been neglecting me as of late.” You state so matter of factly, sticking your chin out in a playful confidence. The statement breaks him out of the trance you seem to have trapped him in.

At your words he sighs, yes he’d been neglecting you, but it wasn’t on purpose. In fact, he’d gone to bed many nights swamped by guilt for how little time he has had for you recently, but on the other hand, this distance was for you— to build a life where you would be protected.

“I’ve had much to do in preparation, forgive me.” He says, voice gruff yet gentle… always so gentle with you.

You hum in understanding, padding your way closer to him through the steamy water and as soon as you’re close enough his hands immediately find purchase on your bare hips, tugging you near his body, he couldn't help himself, he ought to have more self-control he thinks to himself yet you seem to call to him like a siren does to a sailor.

“Well… am I to remain with this burning between my legs?— or will my husband make up for his negligence?” You respond playfully, brushing your fingers through the water and watching it ripple in small waves, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

The bluntness of your words catches him slightly off guard, making him chuckle through his nose as he drags the roughness of his fingertips along your waist and up your spine then back down again.

“Come here then, I’ll see what I can do about this burning of yours, hmm?” And with that he’s cupping the back of your thigh, pulling you to straddle his lap as the water sloshes up against your bodies and the rocks.

Your hands instinctively reach out to rest against his broad shoulders, stabilising yourself as he cups your chin to tilt your head in his direction— his thumb brushes along your bottom lip with an almost reverent look in his dark eyes.

Being so intimately pressed up against one another sends your mind into a hopeless flurry of emotions and thoughts and Bi-Han reveals in the way squirm against him, the small noises that you make and how your pupils dilate.

“Yes, please—” you breathe almost pleading, meeting him halfway in a slow kiss that borders on desperation. His lips slotting perfectly against your own and he swears you were made for him, every curve and dip of your body.

Your fingers pull on the tie that keeps his hair up, dropping it into the water before running your hands through his dark tresses as he deepens the kiss— his tongue pushing past your parted lips to brush against your own, trying to tug you impossibly closer.

He can’t help but smirk at the feeling of your hips grinding against him in search of that friction you so heedlessly need. “Mm, I’ve got you, my love.” He whispers in between lazy kisses that taper off into small pecks, his lips trailing along your jaw— a hot mixture of teeth and tongue pave the way down your neck and over your collarbones, focusing on the spots that make you whimper and arch into his toned body.

Your whole body flushes with a tingling sensation as he dips his hand between your legs, his fingers dragging along the coarse hairs on your mound before pushing between your slick folds— a sharp gasp escapes your lips and your hand grasps a little tighter in his hair which causes him to groan in return, a sound that makes a familiar heat pool in your abdomen.

It was all so dizzying and the heat from the hot springs certainly didn’t help either, but you couldn’t say you minded not when his calloused fingertips rub slow circles over your clit-- the sudden feeling makes your hips buck against his hand, the warm water lapping up at your back and against the smooth rocks.

“Mhm— more, I need you.” You’re already in a daze of pleasure and lust, it didn’t take that much for him to render you into a blabbering mess and he basked in it every single time.

His hand tightens around your jaw ever so slightly, his thumb pressing into the corner of your mouth and he stares up at you in pure wonderment, enjoying every small little twitch in your face as he continues to circle at your clit.

“Shh my sweet, patience you know I’ll give you everything you want… always,” he seals the promise with a kiss, smiling against your lips as you moan so carelessly into his mouth at the feeling of his middle finger dipping into your wet hole, followed by his ring finger.

The slickness of your walls clenching around his digits only serves to turn him on, his cock hardening in between your thighs as he pumps his fingers in and out of your greedy cunt— curling them deeply in a way that makes you arch and whimper, grinding yourself against the heel of his palm.

His fingers stretch you open slowly, the water splashing up against your body, water droplets trickling down your jaw and rolling along your shoulders.

“I need you… inside me, please.” The words fall from your lips so carelessly, heady in a sense— completely drunk on the pleasure he was giving to you.

He gives in to your wants, as always, he could never find it in himself to make you wait especially when you make such pretty noises— and partly because of how hard he is.

The loss of his thick fingers is soon replaced by his cock, his hands now grasping at the fat on your hips as he slowly guides you down onto him whilst you pant and moan into the crook of his neck— whining about how big he is which only elicits a deep chuckle from him. The sound rumbling through his chest, you could feel it against your own.

“Shh, you can take it… take me so well,” Bi-Han groans, tipping his head backwards slightly as you take all of him deep inside you, practically sucking him in and he breathes some comment about how ‘tight’ you are and how much he 'missed you'.

It’s all such a haze in your mind, your eyes bleary with lust as he helps you move against him— your knees pressing either side of his thighs, your nails biting into his broad shoulders— it drove him insane and he can’t help the way he grunts at the feeling, his hands squeezing at the curve of your ass.

The tip of his cock hits your cervix with every bounce, each one more intense than the other— the drag of his cock along your walls brings you closer and closer to the edge. It was a little embarrassing how quickly your body starts to tremble, the familiar tingle that flickers down your spine leaving a searing heat.

“I can’t— I can’t,” you’re a blabbering mess, letting him take control as he guides your hips up and down along his thick cock— thrusting up into your wet cunt as you practically melt into his strong body.

“You can, my girl… let go.” He whispers through slightly gritted teeth, smirking against the dewy skin of your shoulder as you loop your arms tightly around his neck— “I’m right there with you,” he grunts, turning his head to brush his lips along the curve of your jaw,

Through whiny moans your orgasm washes over you, fingers buried in his hair as your warm heat clamps down around him until he’s spilling deep inside your womb— the pair of you immediately finding each other's lips in a slow and needy kiss, his nose brushing against your own.

“I’ve got you, always,” Bi-Han whispers hoarsely, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him as your body goes all boneless against him, all you can do is whimper in response. The heat from both your bodies and the water provided a sense of comfort, along with the way his calloused hand rubs your back soothingly… he’d never make you wait so long again.

[meownotgood]

a few anons asked me about an arcane!viktor and league!viktor fic. here it is. the machine herald and the herald of the arcane sandwich.

18+, arcane season 2 spoilers

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The recent influx of arcane anomalies is responsible for many, many things; the dysfunction of the Hexgates, the instability in several Hextech devices. And additionally, apparently, messing with anomalies often results in rifts, capable of bridging one universe with the next. 

You're assuming, anyway. It's the only option to logically explain why you're currently sandwiched between two Viktors.

"Are they always this… obedient?" Viktor — the menacing, Hexcore-infused, arcane-touched version of Viktor — hums, his voice deep and distinctive. It rumbles through you, threatening to displace your shaky legs with its boom alone, echoing several times before it settles in your eardrums. 

You take in a sharp breath, one you're sure the both of them can hear. The lack of space within the anomaly's pocket of unreality forces you to fall back against his chest. True to his assumption, when Viktor's hands find your waist, your limbs go limp. You pliantly allow him to lift you, until you're settled on his thigh. 

"It is difficult to tell." Viktor — the other Viktor, all metal edges and mechanical thrums — finds your jaw. With a firm, steel index finger, he guides it, carefully bringing your wandering gaze back to him. His mask is expressionless, glowing orange pools of light examining you blankly. 

But you swear, the thickness to the edges of his muffled accent, the way he grabs your chin hard, keeping you in place when your head threatens to fall back, as his counterpart's fingertips analytically skim your side — It screams jealous. 

Your eyes flicker all over his figure, unsure what to focus on. Unsure what to make of this. And Viktor laughs, maniacal and amused. His third arm, his Hexclaw-hand, reaches down towards your much smaller figure, settles on your head, and ruffles your hair in something of a playful, infantilizing gesture. Or, it would be playful, if his third hand wasn't capable of producing a dangerous, one-thousand temperature Death Ray. 

"I believe," Machine-Viktor starts, "We are intimidating them." 

Arcane-Viktor glides his palm over your chest, approving. His touch is foreign, neither rough, nor smooth. "Precisely." 

So much for trying to hide it. In this situation, how could you not be intimidated? 

Both of them are insanely intelligent, to the point it nearly scares you. They're larger, taller; you have to crane your neck up to continue looking at Machine-Viktor, gaze steady on him like he's instructed. 

And Arcane-Viktor is somehow even taller than his copy. It makes you feel helpless in his arms, with the way his figure dwarfs yours completely. You can practically feel the persistent glow of his eyes, boring into you. Examining you with a sixth sense of perception, that could only be defined as inhuman. 

The Machine Herald and the Herald of the Arcane are inscrutable. They're both impossible to read, you couldn't hope to determine what they're planning if you had a million timelines to do so. There's a strange sense of understanding between them. A form of matched intuition, perhaps, that comes with being one in the same. 

Truthfully, they've been arguing, bickering over every topic to be brought up since you got stuck here. Cosmological theories, conflicting assumptions, defining the line between the mechanical and the arcane — It's all flown over your head, honestly. Literally and figuratively. This is the first time they've focused on you since the moment you became pressed in between them. 

Yet, when you are involved, they seem to be on the exact same page. The Machine Herald gives a single nod towards the Arcane Herald, and without the need for words, they're switching tasks. 

Machine-Viktor takes your thighs, holds them instead, palms splayed underneath them to brace the weight. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, locked at the ankles, his metal armor smooth yet firm against your skin — and Arcane-Viktor steps in closer. Your back presses entirely against his chest, helping to support you. 

His outline digs into your shoulder blades, golden and rib-like. And his hands, purple-hued, rich with power, grasp your face to tilt your head back. To make you look at him, instead. You aren't sure which set of eyes to focus on. The claw jutting out from his back twitches, seemingly regarding you with its own element of sentience. The other Viktor stiffens, for a moment. 

But the position you've been placed in is deliberate; it leaves you wide-open. So, he takes advantage of the opportunity his counterpart has graced him with. His third arm hums mechanically as he moves it. He brings its hand to your mouth, and your lips part to let him press his thumb inside. 

It's more analytical than anything else. 

Arcane-Viktor watches, transfixed, as your tongue swirls around the faux metal digit. It's a curious lesson in mortal instinct. You whimper, your gaze grows misty as you try your hardest to focus on him, but you barely falter. You aren't giving up. Weak and desperate, your whole body shudders, enough to be felt on his palms as a tremble rushes through you. 

Oh, you want to be made to shudder, he realizes. This is a wealth of emotion and excitement and desire for you, an addicting amalgamation of new sensations to experience. Humans love to chase this high. They cannot be distracted by fear, when raw, depraved need clouds their judgement. His machine-equivalent understands this concept, surely. 

Your plush lips meet the artificial joints: welded with clean, steel pivots. Viktor would recognize his own handiwork anywhere. But the intricate assembly around each linkage — the other Viktor has improved the design, he's made each subdivision double-jointed. 

Intriguing. Perhaps he should teach his opposite self about the arcane, as reimbursement. 

Your tongue licks a hot, slow stripe onto the end of the Machine Herald's thumb, and he breathes a half-sigh, half-huff, causing smoke to pour from the sides of his mask. 

There's warmth, coming from both of their figures. Just two different kinds of warmth. For the Arcane Herald, it's electric, like stars and static, racing across your skin. For the Machine Herald, it's more stifling, artificial. Like standing over a hot stove. It's the heat of countless individual parts of machinery, internal and external, all working in unison to support his processes. 

And you're starting to sweat. 

"Marvellous," Arcane-Viktor murmurs, oddly inquisitive. "Are they not?" 

Removing his thumb from your mouth, the metal slick with your saliva, the Machine Herald gives a rumbling hum of approval. 

"Yes. They are." 

Your throat tightens, suddenly dry. From above you, the all-powerful Herald of the Arcane tilts his head ever-so slightly, adjacent to an interested cat. He taps his thumb against your puffy bottom lip, as though he's considering repeating the display himself. Lingering residuals of magic thread through you faintly, tingling on your lips with each idle tap. 

When he decides against it, finally letting go of your face, Machine-Viktor is quick to grasp your chin with his Hexarm. Roughly guiding your gaze back in his direction. Selfishly recapturing your attention. 

Unfortunately, your attention is everywhere. It shifts, placed between the budding heat in your body, the weightlessness of your limbs as you're held in place, the press of metal armor to your thighs, the tracing of confident fingertips up your stomach. Your vision blurs around the edges, you can barely focus when you're this overwhelmed. 

Arcane-Viktor's palm is beginning to trace up your chest, and you wonder if he can feel your heart pounding, if either of them know how much you're enjoying this. Surely, they're well-acquainted. They fucking tower over you, and you're bare, you are pliant. For either version of them, for Viktor, you will always be just as they hypothesized. 

Obedient. 

"They are trembling. How curious," The Herald of the Arcane continues, but the deep, confident vibrato to his voice makes you believe your reaction is far from unexpected. "Theoretically, I could imagine this being too much for them." 

"No," The Machine Herald counters, "It is not." 

The Arcane Herald appears to express as much aversion as an unchanging expression is able to. His palm begins to trace back down, this time. With the same slow, methodical movements; possessive, in a way. Down to your stomach, stopping just above your pelvis. 

"You would truly place confidence in their ability to take us?" 

Hands suddenly grasping your thighs tighter, you're pulled closer, unintentionally grinding you against the ridges of his metal plating — you breathe a quick, pleasured noise, your thighs tremor hard, but you know his iron grip wouldn't let them fall — and the Machine Herald practically scoffs. 

"They will take all we give to them. Such is the essence of their potential." 

The Arcane Herald pauses, before he answers, "I believe in your own lingering sentimentality, Machine Herald, you may be vastly overestimating their limits." 

"It is not sentiment." The Machine Herald's voice is level. His thick accent curls around the words, tone rich with a downright ruthless sense of certainty. "Receptors in my central system have been allocated to measure their breathing. The pattern is not one of discomfort. They are rife with… eagerness." 

His Hexarm reaches for your neck, and your head tilts back submissively. As confirmation, your heart skips, your breath catches. Your gaze is heavy and pleading. He squeezes methodically, until your eyes are rolling back, and your arms are falling limp. 

Precise fingertips find your forehead, they muddle your every thought and function as their prying touch seeks to enter your mind. Your thoughts converge into a singular, tightly knit thread, pounding in echoes of pleasure. A hand brushes between your spread legs, finds where you are slick and aching — 

"Viktor-" 

Your voice is weak, desperate, shuddery from the lack of use. 

And to your delight, both of your overseers react. Machine-Viktor gives your thighs a firm squeeze, he caresses your throat fondly. Arcane-Viktor teases you. His fingertips purposefully prod your waiting entrance, and Gods, they feel like magic incarnate. 

They vibrate from the intensity of their own existence. You can feel every thrum, and each lush wave of the arcane, vibrating mercilessly against your sweetest spot. Then, just as you're beginning to believe you could come apart merely from this, his hand is delicately shifting away, and you're left to quiver around nothing. 

"Fuck," You're swearing, "Please- don't stop…" 

The Herald of the Arcane, as though he wasn't just mere moments away from sinking his fingers inside you, replies in a distinctly composed tone. "Humans can be such demanding creatures." 

The Machine Herald nearly sounds annoyed. "You have forgotten our initial objective. We may switch places, if you are convinced you cannot satisfy them." 

"Whatever occurred in your timeline, it is clear you never learned patience. We have time. Our research will prove most accurate when it is fleshed out to its fullest, not when it is rushed. Unless, perhaps you have discerned a solution to getting us out of this anomaly. Do share, Machine Herald." 

Machine-Viktor remains still. Utterly unreadable, as always. 

"Hold them." 

Everything happens so quickly, so flawlessly, you'd almost swear they planned this — Arcane-Viktor takes hold of your thighs, he keeps them spread while he leans your body against his chest. And Machine-Viktor grasps your face, squeezes your cheeks, his leather glove rough against your chin. He's so close, all you can see is the orange of his makeshift eyes. Bright and intimidating, clouding your view with polychrome shapes, like if you were to glance at the sun for too long. 

His touch is distinctly different, it is steady, resolute, determined. A single thick, metal finger drags through your arousal to first get the steel slick, and then he is pressing it inside; you can feel every small joint and deliberate ridge as he fills you. One of his manufactured digits is essentially the equivalent to three of yours. 

You're left to weakly slump against his copy, completely at his mercy as he fucks you open, completely at their mercy as the two of them watch you attentively. Focused on the way his digit disappears within you, how your chest heaves as you gasp and whine. 

"This is not enough stimulus," Arcane-Viktor ascertains. Matter-of-fact, his echoing voice perfectly stable. "Their thoughts are still clouded. Preferably, we would want them- their mind, and their body- to think only of us." 

"Not enough? I thought you believed they could not handle us both." Machine-Viktor scoffs. 

It's a challenge. An analytical assumption, and if his copy is anything like him, he knows it's a notion they'll enjoy deciphering. Together. With you as the subject. 

"Well?" The Machine Herald hums, "Are you willing to put your hypothesis to the test?" 

[favbum]

MHA Boyfriend Texts !

context: they list three things they love about you

 cw: cussing, vulgar language

tone: my style of texting ( abbreviations, slang, lower case letters ) character list: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, hawks, sero, kaminari, kirishima

i. midoriya

k. bakugo

s. todoroki

k. takami

h. sero

d. kamanari

e. kirishima

( keep in mind: these are my own impressions of the characters and not factually/cannonly correct )