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The blaring racket of traffic is a staple for the city centre. Dead-eyed commuters moving in sync up and down pathways, a polite divide amongst the sea of tired workers going home and the bright eyed shoppers hopping into each shop with glaring lights and too loud music. You're one of the former, having regrettably agreed to a 10 hour shift to cover for one of the other employees at the small local business you work for.
The shop itself is spacious, the owner having a close relationship with the realtor of the property, one floor with an open plan, lit with soft golden beams that stretch from the high ceiling down to the herringbone flooring, there's a new age aritisinal feel about the place. You mainly sell handmade jewelry made by other people who then rent a shelf or two in the space, ranging from vinyl earrings to white gold bracelets, rustic coloured glass wind chimes, sets of dainty high end fashion accessories, and raw materials for the DIYers.
Your time here was a rollercoaster of activity today. In the early morning, opening was thankfully breezy, only having served two people until 1 pm. The stained glass of the large windows caressing the light wood on the ground created a haze rich with reds, blues and greens that reflected off of the cut gems in the display cases centred in the front room. You loved sitting on your stool behind the till, watching the colours sway in the light breeze of high summer.
After your lunch break it was hectic, a stampede of shoppers barging in through the door demanding to be seen to at once, all at once. You were frazzled to say the least after that and then there was stock taking and the deliveries of goods. By this time the shop has been shut and now you are lugging hefty boxes around the place trying to get the once immaculate shelves back in order as fast as possible. You want home, a blanket and a soft embrace from your demon hunter boyfriend.
An especially weighty box makes you re-evaluate your box carrying technique. Too heavy to pick up for you, you'll have to drag it. You can already tell from the amount of work you've done today that your spine will be in agony once you stop. At Least you get paid a good amount of money on top of whatever Nero manages to bring home at the end of the day.
....
You were right, standing on an overcrowded bus is already hell for you. There are no seats available. You can't bear it, but you will have to endure. Your entire back is screaming for relief, your legs and feet aching from excessive movement and your eyes burn from being awake too long. You'll have a nap when you get in. There’s a young woman with a newborn baby at the front. It's having a tantrum, face a purple-red and twisted in an ugly cry with fat tears and snot meeting at its chin and mixing to drip down onto the mothers hand as she tries to feed the tiny human, shushing it sweetly in the process. You add a headache to the list of pain your body is holding within you.
....
A dull throb in your shoulders wakes you up from the tranquility of sleep, it spreads down your arms and all the way down your back muscles to the thickness of your thighs. Your eyes burst open in complaint, you forget where you are for a while, the sheer blackness of the bedroom is stunning, save for the dull red numbers sitting upon the night stand on Nero’s side, it reads in blocky font 9:46 PM. The fog on your mind eases up slowly and you realise where you are and why pain shoots from every muscle.
Silence. You hear nothing, no hum of electricity, no quiet murmurs of some show on the TV, nor the shower running. Nero isn't home. This sours your already bitter mood. From time to time, he comes in late, or not at all. Often there aren't many demons in the city to deal with, and if there are, it doesn't take long for Nero, Dante or even Lady and Trish to dispatch them. But there are times when they will have to travel to different cities or countries to save millions of people. The last time that happened, you didn't know about Nero’s unconventional heritage yet. It was a tough pill to swallow when he explained his absence for a month after returning from his abrupt exit from your life. You’ve long since accepted the strange hours and injuries Nero sometimes comes home with.
Vergil isn't in the picture much, you've met him and understand why your man spends a lot of his time with his father and uncle, given their loaded pasts. You're nonetheless glad he has two strong figures in his life he can look up to. He aspires to be just as good as the two authority figures, even though Dante is anything but authoritative nor responsible.
You worry for him.
It's late, you'll have to ring Nico’s personal line, not wanting to clog up the Devil May Cry company line. Your journey to the phone in the living room is slow with your muscles protesting each movement, it hurts to even think about moving. Weeks of built up pressure has spilt over the threshold of your tolerance. The stairs are impossible, you give up and shuffle down them on your ass. The floor at the bottom is insanely cool on your overworked self, you stay there ready to cry on the ground with piles of your shoes, the draft from the front door stinging in your already glossy eyes, you break completely.
Fat globs of your pitiful tears spill from your tired eyes and into your hairline. It happens so fast you don't have the time to fight them back down, you don't have the energy to try right now anyway. The tears don't stop and you imagine the front room filling up with your tears like Alice in Wonderland. Maybe you'll drown and won't have to deal with Nero finding you like this when he eventually stomps through the door to your right, this way you won't have to live with the embarrassment of being so pathetic.
You have no idea how long your tears stain the tiles soaking through your hair and stinging your face as they dry, but you know your demon hunter still isn't here.
You need him.
To your left is the door to the living room, it’s ajar, all you need to do is crawl to the small table behind your couch and call your best friend. It’s torturous and your knees wobble over the shaggy rug, its padding much needed on your knees.
When the phone is in reach your fingers are quick to dial Nico’s number and when it begins to ring you fall to the carpet and close your eyes. She answers within two rings.
“Hey, Nico. How are ya?” you speak slowly to avoid needles stabbing your temple. She's the best inventor you know, the only one you know, actually. She can make anything you could think of. You should ask her to make you a massage chair even though Nero might get jealous, he loves to pamper you when you get like this. Maybe she can turn him into a massage chair for you. Now that’s an idea.
“I’m doin’ just fine, thanks. I wasn't expecting a call from you, Nero is just about ready to leave.” Her southern drawl curls around your ears through the speaker, like stray hairs that tickle your jaw. Despite her unreserved personality she’s a sweetheart, her smile alone lights up entire rooms. Nico is truly beautiful, she has the type of beauty that transcends lifetimes. If it wasn't for the fact that you love Nero, you’d be able to appreciate her more intimately, but you love her as a friend and you're not even sure it could work between you two.
“That’s great, I was starting to get worried…” you hesitate. You’ve never asked her for a favor before but you're sure she wouldn't turn you down. “I’m actually calling to ask you if you could help me out.”
“Oh?” Nico questions.
“you know how my back gets sometimes, I was actually wondering if you might make Nero another hand? He tries helping me out, but honestly with his right hand being either a weapon or not there at all, he isn't the best at giving massages.” Nero is a gentle lover, he tries his hardest to give you everything you might want, and for the most part he does. His downfall, however, is his right hand. You love it and him and you would never change anything about him, but it doesn't help when he's poking at you with his metal arm.
That's not a problem for you any other time, his entire frame could be made from the hardest metal and you still try to find a way to be close to him, no matter what. Nero on the other hand, beats himself up about it, he wants to be soft for you and his arm isn't soft. Even if he had his devil bringer, demonic as it is, it's still flesh, he wouldn't dare touch you with it. Everytime Nero walks through your door, the first thing he does is rip it off himself and only then he allows himself to even think about touching you.
“Oh massage! i gotcha girl, that’s no problem for me, obviously. I'll have it done by tomorrow, I'll have Nero come over with it, I'll keep him here till I'm done.” The way Nico speaks, sounds like there's some hidden meaning behind your inquiry. She's playful and bouncy to a fault, but you know with her tone she's up to something. You don't have the energy for her most days, and today is no exception.
“You're not going to put a trick buzzer in his hand are you, Nico?” your skepticism carries through the phone's receiver and on the other side, she laughs manically.
“Of Course not... Unless you guys are into that, I never really pegged Nero to be into all that BDSM Malarkey.” you can hear a series of spatters and coughs faintly under her words, Nero must be hanging around.
“What? Nico, what are you saying?” you question, her words seem out of context in this situation. Your free hand is twisting the rug, your fingers disappearing in the mess.
“Don't ya want me to make you an arm for Nero to pleasure you with? Ya know, in bed?” It's her turn to be perplexed as she pouts into the speaker.
“Oh! My god Nico, that's not what I'm saying at all, I would never ask you to make something like that…Wait, are you being serious?” your emotions are jumbled, jumping between embarrassment to shame to curiosity and almost excitement. “No nevermind, thanks anyway Nico, I'll just go to a shop and get a massage by a professional.”
“If ya say so. Bye Darlin” she sounds almost disappointed.
“Bye, I'm sorry about that, just forget I asked.” you put down the phone, not knowing what to do with yourself, you hide away in your hands suppressing the urge to scream your lungs out from that uncomfortable interaction. The worst part about it was that she seemed genuinely interested in making it. You don’t know if it's worse than if she was disgusted by the idea. What is Nero going to say when he comes home?
….
Nico is slamming the phone down onto its stand and all but stampeding to her work bench in the back of the Devil May Cry ‘office’. Nero is still reeling from the half of the conversation he heard between, he's assuming, the love of his life and what he considers to be his best friend. He's quick to his feet from the reclined position on a dusty sofa bed in the corner; he's sure Dante sleeps on.
“What the hell, Nico, were you talking about with my girlfriend? What the hell?” His distressed tone makes the woman in question lift her head from being hunkered already over an endoskeleton of a work in progress hand, her curls wild and shifting in bobs and waves as she moves her head to the side.
“You not pleasin’ yer girl, huh? That why she’s on the phone askin’ me to make you a hand to ‘massage her back’. She almost sounded like she meant it too, but a lady can tell when another woman is in need of somethin’ extra to really get ya there.” as she speaks, Nico’s hands are working fast to create another masterpiece. Her tone is teasing and light, but Nero can't help the raging blush that explodes across the bridge of his nose, his ears turning a violent shade of beetroot.
“That has nothing to do with you, for one thing, but I do…please her, Nicoletta. And you're missing the point, she asks me to massage her back all the time. ” but now he isn't so sure. He's mature enough to understand he might not be the best in bed but Nero knows you would talk to him about things like this. Wouldn't you?
“Sure thang, Nero. And stop using my full name, for the love of Christ!” Nico answers with a tight lipped smile that really doesn't install any confidence in him. Now the only sound in her small workshop is the small tinkering's of the craftswoman. She's humming and hawing, muttering unintelligible ramblings as she goes on with her task. She’s in her zone, working fast and efficiently. The workshop is lit save for the industrial light that would serve as a second sun, so bright her skin looks paper white, to the point Nero can't make out her features when she moves it to point at the arm. He's exasperated, to save his eyes he darts his head to the ceiling and his eyes land on a wad of dried up chewing gum stuck there and he wonders how someone could get it up there and not have it fall back down.
“I swear if you make me a vibrator for a hand i'm gonna murder you” he’s done with the interaction. After a long day of sitting around waiting for a demon to shoot at his mind is fried from catching up on dumb paperwork that Dante should be doing. He wants to come home to you.
“Too late” she's grinning like the cat that got the cream, a wild look in her eyes as she admires her creation. “Get over ‘ere, check out my handiwork. Pun intended.” She snorts. Nico beacons him over with the prosthetic hand, the wrist limp, motioning to ‘come here’. Nero tries really hard not to laugh and very slowly drags his heavy feet to the table. The hand is pearly white, silver accents and various buttons dotted on the forearm, a black dial is embedded on the centre at the back of the hand, numbers one to seven circle it, the wrist is replaced with a ribbed tube, small pipes connecting hand and arm. It's sleek and looks almost human, if it wasn't for the white semi translucent silicon that makes up the fingers and palm, Nero would love a real hand.
“I'm not using a supped up sex toy for a hand.” he shakes his head. And begins to walk away, wondering why he gave this endeavor the time of day at all. He's set on going home to you, ordering food, then passing out on the couch cuddled up with his nose buried in your hair.
“Hey! Wait now, this hand heats up and vibrates, it has different intensities, if your goin’ along with the ‘massage’ ruse it's literally made for this.” Nero stops, Nico has a point, even if she doesn't believe it’s for the purposes she's describing. “You wont regret it. Yer lady will be crying by the time this baby is done with her”
“Aw Nico, shut up for once!” He pauses thinking of a way to get out of this. “If I take it, will you leave it alone?”
“Course” she nods once, fully serious as she lifts up the arm gracefully as if it was made of porcelain. “Here, for those hard to reach itches. She’ll love it. Catch my meanin’?” Nico revels in Nero's harsh glare at her ill timed pun.
“Would you quit?” They both know the demon hunter is all bark and no bite when it comes to Nico.He takes his new hand with a sceptical rise of his bright white eyebrows, turning it in his left hand in a show of reluctance. The material of this hand is soft and pliable, not quite skin but close enough that if Nero had had his eyes closed he’d think he was shaking someone's hand wearing a glove. It really is something.
“She really asked for this?” he whispers to himself, he’s unsure about the whole idea.
“Hey, how do I use this anyway?”
“Oh yeah lemme show you!” Nico is just as excited to show off her creations as she is to make them.
....
Nero can’t wait to get home, from what he could hear on the phone you sounded tired and in pain. He has no confusion about why you had asked Nico to make this thing now. The house is quiet when he rounds the corner, there aren't any lights on or a blue glare from the TV. he assumes that you're in a lot of pain.
The night air is cool on his skin, it’s refreshing, the devil May Cry building has stuffy ventilation and it gets so hot this time of year. Nero is thankful for his demon side, he runs a lot colder than any regular human, and you joke that he's half lizard with how chilly he is when you two cuddle together. You're not far off, he thinks, Dante and his father’s demon forms look oddly reptilian.
Nero unlocks the door, it’s stiff so he gives it a hard push before he's in. He can hear you faintly snoring, it’s cute how you always deny ever doing it, after all how can you tell, you're sleeping. He should record you at night to prove you wrong.
Upon taking his shoes off at the door, he takes his sword off from its holster on his back and his revolver from his hip before entering the living room. After a quick moment of searching, he spots you. You're sprawled out on the rug, Nero knows by now that when you're overstimulated and sore you love your ‘floor time’ as you call it, and he knows better than to disturb you. He debates whether or not to wake you up, you will be grumpy. The hunter decides to bite the bullet and softly tiptoes over to your form. Kneeling down, Nero whispers his fingers over the contours of your face. There's crystallized residue of tears running down to your ears, you’ve been in pain for a long time. He hates that he can't take the pain away forever.
....
Nero’s tone when he speaks your name is enough to lull you out of your light nap. Light taps on your round cheeks poke you awake, and when you open your eyes he's there, smiling down at you. There's a glow dusting the tips of his spiky white hair, in your post nap delirium, you think Nero looks like an angel to you. The shine from the full moon streaming in through the open windows, Nero’s head protects you from the harsh beams of light, it makes his hair become a halo of pure white light framing his head. You chuckle at the irony of your own thoughts.
“What is so funny, my girl?” His own amusement breaks through his concerned expression, easing away the worry lines that become clearer as each day passes.
“You're an angel right now” you slur the words out in an attempt to be serious, it comes out all in one word. You sound like you're six years old again.
“No, honey, I'm half demon. Remember?” He chuckles at your musings. Hands traveling down to your shoulders and under them to pick you up and onto his lap as he kneels beside the small coffee table. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”
Your head finds the space between Nero’s head and shoulder, eyes closed, like there’s a navigator in your mind that goes straight to that spot. “Couldn’t get up.” You sound more lucid now. “Did you have a busy day?” you ask.
“Not really, Dante didn't do that paperwork I asked him to do last week. So I was just sitting on my ass all day.” he jokes, stroking your tangled hair and massaging your scalp to relieve the knots.
You begin to say something about Dante being the laziest person ever, but you're interrupted by Nero’s flesh-hand digging into a particularly tender spot at the base of your skull. You tense up and relax all at once, it feels good but too much all together. You can tell he notices as his hand is immediately pulled away from your neck.
“Sorry, are you good?” you shake your head further into his neck, every move you make causes waves of rolling pain through you. “How about a massage? Nico made that hand you wanted.” his tone is soft and light in your ears, there's no judgement from him. You are groaning in displeasure anyway, regretting ever speaking in your entire life.
“It was a momentary lapse in judgement, please take it out back, tell it to look at the flowers and then shoot it.” Nero laughs like he isn't sure if you're being serious.
“I thought maybe it was a bit much at first, but Nico really cares. In her own way.” he pauses to pull you further up, so you are face to face. He looks hopeful so you don’t argue when he shifts his weight and pulls you upright with him. “Why don't we atleast try it out, see if it helps out, she showed me how to use it.”
With Nero’s arms holding firmly, right hand on your back and his left holding up your legs behind your knees, you could fall asleep all over again. He’ll take you silence as compliance, it's your way of agreeing to something without actually saying yes. He moves with you to the doorway, picking up a rectangular black box and then up the stairs taking two at a time. In no time you're back in the bedroom, Nero sets you down on the bed and in the darkness you make out the silhouette of your lover, hunched over the box he laid out on the bed at your feet. You roll over slowly, the stretch burning in your back, the lampshade is just out of reach, but you try anyway.
An unfamiliar hand reaches past yours, white and streamlined, unlike the other hands Nero has. His new hand flicks on the light, a warm glow illuminates the room. You've always preferred warm tones over the too harsh glare of the white lights most people chose to light up their homes. It casts the space in a cozy atmosphere, bringing photos of loved ones on the walls and your small trinkets accumulated over the years, into view with just enough visibility to not distract from the man in front of you. He's looking down upon you with reverence as you inspect his ‘massage hand’.
“What does Nico call this one?” you gingerly take the hand into yours, turning it over and tracing the palm and the artificial lines there, “it's so life-like.”
“She called it ‘sweet surrender’ or something like that.” His voice is almost a whisper, not wanting to break the intimate moment, he chuckles to himself at his own words.
“What does it do? Is it just soft?” your questions are limitless now that you've seen it, embarrassment out the window now you know Nero doesn't care you asked Nico to build something for him that benefits you. It was silly, your apprehension, you know he loves and respects you, and he knows you feel the same way, maybe even more.
He doesn’t answer verbally, instead recoiling his hand in a smooth motion holding it up to your eye-line. Nothing happens at first and you wait. A sudden buzzing erupts in the silence and you almost startle but you know it’s coming from his newly built hand, his entire prosthetic arm glowing soft blue. You’re not surprised, you knew Nico would do something along the lines of this, her powerfully dirty mind taking over all of her brain per your request.
For a moment there is just the quiet vibrations of the hand buzzing away, you stare at Nero and he stares back. Smiles are shared and the smiles turn into small giggles, then full unfiltered belly laughs erupt from both of you. Tears are shed and your stomach muscles on top of everything else are aching, but you can’t stop, Nico has really outdone herself this time.
Groaning at your full body pains, you feebly roll on your side, clutching your midsection. “Oh, stop making me laugh!” Through your giggles you manage to squeak your command to Nero.
“Blame Nico!” He’s shaking his head now, holding both hands up in faux surrender, his left still vibrating softly.
“Oh I am, she’ll be hearing from me in the morning.” your tone holds no malice. The vibrating ebbs slowly to a halt.
Despite your mood having been lifted by Nero just being in your presence, you still feel you're dying from the inside out. He notices this, kneeling down at the side of the bed, the hunter takes your hand gently. His eyes are gazing into yours with such soft devotion, you’ve never felt so complete when he looks at you like this. No other lover in your past has made you feel truly seen the way Nero does.
“I know you asked her to make a hand for me to ease your pain, I understand I'm rough and that's not what you need sometimes… Let me help you?” The pure sadness in his voice calms your anxiety. You know he needs this more than you do.
Nero is out almost everyday looking for a fight, fighting demons and saving many humans, so many he will never be able to know them all in one lifetime. You understand he is strong and immovable but you know he wants to be soft with you as well. He wants to live up to his family name and have his father truly see him. Nero does too much, you think, so you'll allow him this. You nod and he’s back up on his feet, leaning over you and helping you reposition yourself on your front.
He’s gone for a minute, pottering about in the small bathroom down the hall. You have oils just for this. Nero is back with candles, scented oils and towels. The candles are littered around the bedroom on any surface that isn't already occupied and lit in no time, the lamp is turned off. You sit up to remove your shirt, pants and bra, it's a struggle to lift your arms high enough, but Nero is quick to your side again to help. There's no embarrassment or arousal when you bare your chest, when he comes home sometimes battered from fights, you are the one doting and fussing over him, cleaning his wounds that always heal quickly and helping him in the shower.
Your hands, by your sides, are given one last squeeze before your love starts his worship of your body. “Are you ready?” he asks, then the vibrations start once more. You nod again, he kisses the back of your head, then his hands are on you.
The lavender-infused oil is lathered over your back, he’s using his flesh hand to get you relaxed. It's a strange sensation to get used to, one hand massaging, laying hard into your deep tissue and the low vibrations of his prosthetic one following after. Nero starts at your neck, where most of your tension gathers, then down your shoulders to the wider expanse of your back. Your lover's firm hand paired with the deep vibrations work wonders on the aches and pains, making you float above the clouds as you drift in and out of consciousness, humming at the particularly tough knots Nero battles with along the soft curve of your back.
His ministrations slow and then come to a stop altogether, you hardly bother to care, squinting an eye open into a slit, you see him, brows furrowed, eyes focused. He gathers your body into his arms like you actually are weightless, not minding the oil seeping into his shirt now. The disruption isn’t entirely unwanted, you smile up at Nero as he takes a second to cover your face in small kisses, placed so delicately on your skin it tickles. On your back again, Nero is quick to work on your arms, the vibrations are weak now, but still powerful enough to give you goosebumps as he goes.
The room is warm, however as your lover works down your chest and abdomen, your gooseflesh spreads and soon your nipples become tight and grow sensitive. Breathes become more pronounced, Nero’s left hand picks up from your skin as his other begins working on your thigh muscles. His fingertips land on your left breast, tracing around your nipple. Your eyes slam open, a gasp pushing past your open lips. The triumphant smirk takes over his face.
The little shit that he is.
“Nero!” your voice breaks open the silence that had settled over your cozy bedroom, a warning lilt taking over your soft voice. He’s shaking his head now, finding humor in your outburst as he does it again.
His hand this time brushes directly over your entire breast, trapping your nipple between two fingers, his right hand still working along your thigh, less intense, more just caressing the inside of your knee. Your own hand bullets towards the mechanical arm, but it makes you feel like a boxy tv so you let go as quick as you grip onto it.
Nero’s stupid smirk says it all, he doesn’t speak, he doesn't need to. You know what he’s thinking, surprisingly when you look down to his pants, there is only a soft bulge. He isn't hard, yet.
“at least wait until you're finished with my legs.” you suggest. Despite the building want, your poor legs cry in protest as you attempt to close them from his right hand.
“If you say so, my girl.” Nero is as smug like that cat with the cream or however it goes. As much as Nero dotes on you, he sure makes you pay for it later when he knows you are sated. And so he continues his not half-assed massage, you’re still finding relief but just enough to want more, Nero is sliding his hands in tandem, from the very outside of your thick thigh, to the very sensitive inside, where the vibrations pick up.
The close proximity to your clit is on another level of pure torture, he does this for a while building you up and them dragging his finger tips down the front of your leg to your calves, leaving thick white lines in his wake. He then begins again on the other leg and if you weren't so deeply comfortable you would kick your foot up into his stomach. Instead you resort to lazy whines.
“You’re nearly there, honey, just a little longer.” you're starting to regret the decision to wait now. In the long run you will thank yourself for the will to stop, but for now you lay in desperate need. As Nero’s hands climb up your thigh, the intensity of his left hand's vibrations increases until the fat of your thigh starts to jiggle, this in turn increases stimulation on your poor overlooked clit. It's both heaven and hell. You have to end this soon, it's too much but Nero loves to prolong your writhing , you think he just loves to watch the way you tick. He likes to see you need him.
You shoot your hand out and latch onto his left arm, the vibrations are stronger this time, but you steel yourself and hang on even though Nero doesn't stop you when you guide his hand up to where you need him most. His eyes are glossed over as his gaze follows your hand. He’s locked in a trance, your body calling to him, his senses overloaded with just you. Opening your legs willingly for the first time tonight is a relief you never knew you needed. The underwear you left on has become like a second skin because you’ve become uncomfortably, sticky wet.
“Take them off.” you demand, struggling to maneuver your hips up. Nero sees this and decides to put you out of your misery. With his right hand, he grips the front of your underwear and rips them at the seams. There is a slight shock and a tiny amount of pain, but immense amounts of arousal tightens in your stomach every time he does this. “For the last time, Nero! Stop doing that. I'm going to run out of underwear!”
“Relax, babe. I know you love it when I do that shit. I can smell it, on you.” His gaze pointedly shifts to between your legs. He’s obviously right, over the years, Nero has become oddly attuned to your needs. He knows what you want and when you want it but that doesn't make him any less cocky about it. You reach your foot out in an attempt to kick him, but the demon hunter in him swiftly catches your ankle. His eyes flick to yours, there’s a glint in Nero’s irises. Without breaking eye contact with you, he lifts your leg up to his mouth and kisses the inside of your ankle, continuing up further and higher with licks, bites and pecks. As he does so he lowers your leg, moving his body at the same time.
It’s too much for you, the sensations of his fingertips crawling up your sides, his eyes, and mouth. You’ve waited for this for you don't know how long, so you'll power through this feeling. Nero will treat you right. He always does. His kisses become longer, lingering on your thighs, his bites harsher and bigger. You can’t help the small noises escaping. You grasp at his spiky white hair the best you can. You’ve always said he should grow it back out, so you have something to hold for times like these, you loved how it looked when you first met him all those years ago.
Your eyes close from Nero’s attack on your thighs, he takes this opportunity to activate the vibrations and trails his hand down your stomach tickling you in the process and you let out a sudden screech, jolting out of your space on the bed. Nero is quick to utilize his flesh arm to hold you down, his forearm acting as a warm and comfy seat belt. He’s kneeling between your open legs now, his prosthetic hand circling around the space between your pelvic bone and lowering slowly. He has been playing with your body all night, like a curious child with a new toy, except he's a grown man who knows exactly what he's doing to you. You try to buck your hips to kickstart your pleasure but his arm locks you down, you are strapped in for the ride.
“Just sit back, lemme take care of you like you asked, yeah?” Nero is starting to become breathless, clear indication of his arousal. He starts to move his fingers down too slowly for you liking, again but the wait is well worth the reward as his buzzing fingers make contact with your clit. The gasps and moans you let out echo around the small room. The pleasure of Nero's flesh fingers is something you can never match with your own, but this isn't like any other hand or toy you’ve ever had the pleasure of feeling, it combines two of your favorite toys, Nero’s hands and a vibrator. His finger rubs and pinch at your swollen clit, the vibrations undulating in speed.
Just this would be enough to have you come undone. with Nero’s eyes watching you and his other hand lifting off of your round stomach and bringing it down to your pussy. Running his long digits around and over your opening. Your hips have room to grind up and down his hand.
“That's it, good girl. There you go.” he praises, his words compelling a loud whine from your lips. His flesh hands begin to circle your tight hole, pushing one finger inside curling at just the right spot to make your vision go blurry. Your mouth opens but no sound escapes your parted lips, Nero quickly leans up and silences your moan and breathes it into his lungs, licking into you and capturing your pleasure with his tongue swirling with yours. His hands are working double speed now, two fingers push into you and the buzzing of his arm increases. You try to close your legs but it does nothing but increase the pressure on your clit.
Nero is kissing into your mouth and you wish you could reciprocate but the only thing you are able to do right now is feel. You can feel his hot breath entering your lungs, his fingers buried deep in you, and you can feel his large bulge grinding on the inside of your thigh.
The ferocity of his thrusts have you jumping up the bed, but you don't have the mind to complain. The coil in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter and your grip on Nero becomes bruising, he doesn't seem to mind.
“Nero-” you try to speak, but all that comes out are squeaks and moans.
“Yeah, baby. You gonna come?” he asks at your entrance, looking into your glossy eyes with fake concern, mouth sticky and shining off of the blue radiating from his arm. All you can do is nod animatedly, he chuckles at you and doubles his efforts. Your eyes screw shut at vibrations wreck your entire body, wet smacking sounds and heavy breathing is all that can be heard in the room as you come. You gush over Nero’s hands, showering him in your sticky cum, the moan you let out is absurdly loud that you slap your hand over your mouth. As you revel in the throes of your orgasm, your other hand shoots to Nero, pushing his face away as you come down, everything is so sensitive. His hands pull away and the invasive sound of harsh buzzing stops as he detaches his prosthetic arm and places it on the nearby set of drawers.
“So mean.” Nero teases as he holds your hand moving it from his forehead down to his lips, where he peppers tiny kisses on your palm as you come down. “And after all I've done for you, I'm heartbroken, honey.”
You smile up to the ceiling, shaking your head as you hand cup his cheek and gently pat it. “Thank you, my darling Nero.”
He beams up at you, smile lighting up your world. “how are you feeling now?”
“Light as a feather.” your limbs stretch up in a starfish formation as you showcase your movement.
Nero stands up to collect the towels that had fallen to the floor, he's wiping your oily skin the best he can. “ Do you want to shower? I can change the bedsheets, make snacks. We can watch something and cuddle.”
Your brows tilt up on your forehead, your arms push your body upright. “What about you?” you point to his crotch. His jeans are wet.
“Taken care of, thanks by the way! Not embarrassing at all.” he rolls his eyes.
“Aw baby, you really do love me.” you swoon at his level of commitment to have come in his pants without touching himself at all, too focused on giving you what you need.
His eyes soften “I do, love you”
“I love you too.” you stay and stare into each other for a moment before he snaps you out of it.
“Go! Get cleaned up so we can get in bed” it's your turn to roll your eyes at him. Getting up and turning into the bathroom, not before pulling Nero down for a peck on the lips as you pass, in return your butt receives a harsh collision with Nero's right fleshy hand.
....
By the time you've finished your shower, you've taken care to really lather yourself to rid your entire body of the oil. Nero has replaced the dirty bed sheets with clean ones, smelling fresh and much like your lover. The tv dimly illuminates the four walls in a dull blue, there’s even water and some cereal on your bedside table. Nero has gone all out in satiating your needs, ever the gentleman. You can settle in for the night blissfully knowing that tomorrow is just around the bend, it will be a Saturday and you can stay in bed as long as you want and do whatever.
You will repay Nero for tonight in the morning, when your energy has been restored and you have the strength to keep him under you. You will make Nero pay for his actions tonight, but you doubt he’ll see it as much of a punishment.