The way you breathe Nero's name should be illegal, he thinks, but it's not like he'd ever arrest you. His own soft panting has long since joined your quiet, high breaths, halfway bent over your own kitchen counter. You'd been in the middle of making breakfast, fully intending on bringing it to him in bed. He'd come home the night before bruised and broken after one hell of a fight.
Apparently, Nero had other plans when he roused from sleep that morning, completely healed and fully hard in his boxers; he'd caught the scent of fresh bacon and eggs wafting into your bedroom and drifted towards the source - you stood no chance as strong arms wrapped under your elbows and hoisted you on your tip toes so he could grind against you.
You were at least thankful he let you get the pancakes off the hot stove top before he'd gotten you to where you are now.
"Don't--Don't stop, fuck, don't," You gasp, gripping a spare towel for purchase as his own hands grip your hips tight enough to bruise; his face is buried in your shoulder, bright red and embarrassed he was even this aroused. He knew it wasn't his demonic side - no, he'd definitely know if it were that - but it was just something about the way you'd looked, concentrated and messy. He cared little for the sparse bits of pancake batter that had splattered into your hair when you whisked a little too enthusiastically, or the way your hair sat lopsided on top of your head in a bun you hadn't yet taken out from sleep.
What Nero had cared about was the soft way your tongue stuck out of your lips while you poured a pancake into the pan, shifting with all the fluidity of a professional dancer; the way you twirled around to clean out the bowl in the kitchen sink, as those had been the last pancakes from the batter to make; and the way your eyes lit up when you saw him stumbling into the kitchen. The love was unmistakably there, blossoming into something more than Nero had ever thought, but the way you turned around and bounced in placed to exclaim to him that, "babe, you're not supposed to be up yet..." had left little to his imagination the moment he noticed you were in nothing but panties and a tank top.
It was where his mind had wandered that had you with one knee up on the counter and your forehead pressed against one of your upper kitchen cabinets as he took you from behind, staring something intense and dreamy as he watched your own pleasured expressions. "F-Faster," you'd ordered, reaching back to tug on his shirt. He didn't need you to speak any more to know you wanted him closer than he was. And by Sparda, he was going to do exactly that.
Especially when your moans hit their peak the second he readjusted; the way you'd gasped, "Right there, Nero!" and thrown your head back had been more than enough for him to blow his load. But he had a mission, and he was going to see your own through before his own.
What he didn't expect was the result to be so literal. All you'd done was shift your leg so that he'd get the hint to hold you, and you'd gasped louder than he'd ever heard - taking it as incentive to keep fucking you right where you wanted, he'd sped his hips up impossibly so. That was more than enough for you; with cheeks as red as your own, you'd just barely managed to mutter, "I'm gonna--" before you gripped the towel hard enough to tear it between your fingers and let go.
It'd be one hell of a mess to clean up later, soaking Nero's throbbing length, his boxers, his thighs, and the kitchen floor. But it wasn't like you'd prepared for him to hit you so well. Whether Nero noticed in the moment or not didn't seem to matter as he just kept thrusting. His hips were almost too much as you tore away from the towel long enough to toss it to the floor and grip his short hair instead.
Nero, on the other hand, hadn't needed any more than that - his hips had stuttered as he hit his orgasm and barely had enough time to pull out so that no accidents would occur. Where you had painted him and the floor, he painted your warmth, your thighs, and the lower kitchen cabinets. Definitely one hell of a mess.
Still, Nero is quick enough to apologize profusely. "I'm so sorry, I didn't--I didn't ruin breakfast, did I?" His voice is so soft in your ear as he holds all of your weight for you. He doesn't need you to tell him to; he can feel the way your thighs quiver as you slowly regain your composure. "Also, uh." He swallows, "I don't want to sound like... an idiot, but uh, did you just uh."
"Sp-Spit it out, Nero..." Your tone was not of ire but of amusement. You never thought you'd ever get to hear the question in real life. It had always been a myth, a thing that either only happened in best friends' exploits or bad porn plots.
He leans in close, his breath still heavy, but his voice as quiet as a mouse. "Did--Did you just piss yourself?"
It's quiet for a long moment before you burst out into exasperated laughter. You don't mean to, but the ridiculousness of everything around you leaves laughter your only possible reaction. You can see he's a little hurt by it, but his face quickly shifts to quiet laughter too the moment he realizes that you aren't laughing at him, but rather his question. "I--I... It's complicated."
Nero finally sets you fully on the floor - he's careful to deposit your feet onto the semi-soaked towel so you don't slip, confident in himself that he won't. He leaves, satisfied with the answer you've given for now, to he make his way to the bathroom to gather towels and some bleach.
You spend the time he's gone pulling your panties off, letting them drop to the floor while you immediately turn and wash your hands. After all, you have to finish making breakfast. You help Nero out as best you can, but he seems rather content to clean the kitchen and your thighs. You just wish half of said cleansing wasn't done with his tongue.
"You--You really know how to make breakfast difficult, don't you?" You ask, pushing up onto your tip toes as Nero's tongue licks long, hot stripes up the inside of your entire leg.
He mumbles something you can't quite make out as you get the pancakes back on a hot stove top - after a moment, you give up. They're ruined, inedible. Nero can deal with two less pancakes this morning.
After all, he seems rather content to get most of his breakfast from you; his tongue slips higher and higher the more he 'cleans' your legs, until his nose is buried against you and all you can do is borrow his face as a makeshift bar stool while you try not to burn your fingers on a slowly-cooling stove top.
Your mistake had been later explaining exactly what had happened with you, once he'd had his fill of your sweet, hot taste. After your legs had given out and you'd both come crashing down to the floor, your knees barely missed the sides of his head. You're glad that you know he isn't entirely human - with the force you'd slipped and fell, you might have broken his neck otherwise.
Curled up on your sectional, thighs still trembling, you'd told him in detail all that you personally knew about what it was - what it was called, why it happened. How it happened. Nero practically pulled his phone open to take notes; and you knew, deep down, that when you'd left for work that morning, he'd gone and looked it up himself anyway. He seemed content to know everything there was, reading endless arguments about whether it was actually 'female ejaculation' or just 'piss'. All he knew was that he loved the way you sounded when he did it, and the sense of accomplishment that came with making you come.
You'd thought that would be the end of it - that Nero would be satisfied letting it happen naturally, that he'd maybe work on his technique on lazy nights when neither of you could be bothered to actually have sex, fingers and mouths working each other just fine.
You hadn't expected him to actually go for it again the next time you'd decided to have sex.
It starts simple - Nero comes home from yet another job, riding the adrenaline high of kicking demon ass. He calls out to you. "Babe, you home?"
"Where else would I be?" Your voice is only slightly groggy, half-asleep in your endeavor to stay up long enough to greet him when he comes home. You don't sound upset, but rather excited that he's finally back. You hear the shuffle as he pulls squeaking boots off, knowing you'll scold him tomorrow for leaving blood-stained boots on your welcome mat, but at least he's not dragging it all over the apartment as he makes his way to you.
You're already halfway out of bed as he waves from the door frame - you, in nothing more than one of his t-shirts, wants nothing more than to bound over to him and embrace him. But you know better than to do so when his skin is so blatantly stained with scarlet. Still, the image of his white hair tinted various shades of the aforementioned color as it hangs in his face, paired with the way he smirks at you seeing that you're wearing his clothes yet again, doesn't stop you.
You know that he doesn't wear this shirt often - it's old, ratty, and has more holes in it than his knitted sweater. Pulling your arms around his neck has never been easier, even as he quietly exclaims, "You're going to ruin it."
"What makes you think I care?" You murmur against his iron-scented skin. Demon blood doesn't phase you anymore - you've long since learned that it's a part of him, literally and figuratively. You pull away from the warmth of his exposed collarbone and lean back enough to brush your nose against his own. "Let's get you out of these clothes... you're filthy."
You tug at his coat and it slips off as easily - his sword and gun have been left by the front door, far away from where they can accidentally discharge or slice. Nero knows better. "And you're happy to see me, I take it?"
"Nero, you've been gone for two weeks," You tug at his sweater and it comes off as he lifts his hands - though he doesn't want to, afraid of ruining what he considers perfect skin, his fingers find purchase against the small of your back. He pulls you in for a proper kiss; it seems the only thing clean on Nero is his lips as they taste as sweet as he is. Your fingers drop his shirt so that you can run your fingers through his blood-stained hair. You feel your legs move on their own, following his lead as he walks backwards towards the bathroom. "I missed you."
"I can tell." Nero finally pulls away to let you breathe and presses his forehead against yours - he stops, and you so easily step on the arches of his socks. He gets the hint that maybe he should keep walking, and steadies you as he pulls you in for another kiss. Nero knows it isn't often you get so riled up at his return, but he's not going to take it for granted even if he's exhausted.
One, gloved hand leaves your waist so he can flick the bathroom light on - at the same time, your fingers depart from his hair so you can reach down and palm at his belt buckle until you manage to unbuckle it. He chuckles against your mouth as he sets you back on the floor, toeing his socks off. "Mind if I join you?" You brush your nose against his as you finally pull away, tugging on his bottom lip as if to tell him that you're going to either way.
Good thing that Nero doesn't care. "Not at all, babe."
You slip your hands from the button of his cargo pants to the hem of your shirt, pulling it off as his own slip away to remove his pants himself; the only sounds that fill the silence between you is the jingle of Nero's belt as he drops his pants and his jock strap to the floor. You stretch, tired but on a mission, and slip past him so that you can start the shower. He takes the time to brush his fingers along what he considers the perfect curve of your backside, sighing in content. "You're the only thing that keeps me going. You know that, right?"
"Hm?" You turn and face him and find nothing but admiration in his eyes while he leans up against the bathroom sink. "Not your determination to keep your family safe?"
"You fall into that category, but no, not even that," Nero slips his arm around you as you stand, waiting for the water to heat up. "Knowing I get to come home to you after a hard night of killing evil, that's sweeter than anything I can think of."
The thought makes you scoff as you lean forward to test the water - you don't exactly mean to brush up against his lazily hanging length, but it's hard not to when he looks so delicious behind you. Even though the water's perfect, you let him think that you're fiddling with the shower handles just so you can brush yourself against him.
Though Nero says nothing at all, you can feel the way his length pushes into you just a little too much. You can feel his fingers tense across your stomach, urging you to stay put while he works himself up for you. Whether to tease or to get him into a shower sooner, you stand up and pull away just as he starts to grind his hips against you. "Water's warm enough... let's get all this stink off ya, huh?"
"Do I really stink?" Nero whines, but you know that's not the real reason he's whining. You turn as you step into the shower and raise an eyebrow as he sniffs himself. "I don't smell that bad..."
"People rarely notice their own stink," You tease as you turn to let him rinse off first - the shower water spills down his back and chest, bathing him in rose-tinted water as the blood starts to wash away. The image makes you bite your lip as Nero leans his head back to let the water drench his hair - he brings one hand up to jostle the blood out of it, the other halfway down his midsection. You've found he's more comfortable without the new, human arm. Old habits supposedly die hard.
Nero doesn't notice the way you stare so openly, your lips parted. Moments like these are what you live for as your fingers brush against the well-toned muscles of his stomach, feeling as they tense under your ticklish touch. A breathless giggle leaves Nero's lips as he peeks one eye at you from his position rinsing his hair out. "What? You seein' something you like?" He asks, half-teasing; your fingers dip lower as they brush against the perfect, pink skin of his half-hard length.
"Maybe..." Your voice trails off as he steps out of the hot water and closer towards you - your fingers slip back up his lower stomach, trying to tug on fabric that isn't there as he leans close enough to you to kiss you again. For a moment, you think he's going to, but he only reaches behind you to grab his shampoo. That doesn't stop Nero from nipping at your earlobe.
Oh. You see where this is going now. He wants to tease you, give you everything and nothing all at once. You know deep down it's because the last time shower sex was attempted, it ended up in a scar that sits on the crown of your head, but you'd like to think it's the former reason too. "You want to rinse off? I can turn the heat down, let you cool off."
Nero winks at you as he lathers shampoo into his hair; in retaliation, you turn and grab his body wash, pulling his wash cloth towards you so you can kill two birds with one stone. You get to work, watching the "Fresh Alpine" scented soap bubbles brush translucent white streaks across his already pale skin. He giggles again, more receptive to the ticklish wash cloth than your fingers. You make it a point to wash him everywhere but where he knows he wants your hands; you trail the wash cloth all along his chest, up his shoulders, down one muscular bicep to the stump that ends far too soon, and back up as he dips his head back to rinse his hair out.
You move along with his hand as he rinses his hair, washing as far up as you can get, then right back down to wash the dripping crimson off of his thighs, the back of his knees, along the curve of his perfect ass. Everywhere but where he wants, even as you wash the sensitive skin between his thighs. He shivers, pushing his hips outward as if to say touch me.
You snake your fingers up to wash his neck and under his chin as he finishes rinses his hair; when you step in close enough for bubbles to press against your own chest, you can feel him standing alert against your own thigh, occasionally brushing up or down depending on how he flexes his lower stomach. "I still don't understand why you don't just shower in Nico's van before you get home." You shake your head as you drop the wash cloth over his protruding hard-on. He's hard enough that it doesn't slip off.
"How else am I going to tease you?" Nero responds, turning so you can rinse your chest off - he takes the opportunity to wash his length before he slips it between your thighs, tossing the pink-tinted cloth to the shower floor. "I mean, I know I'd be upset if my tall," he murmurs softly in your ear as one hand slips down between your thighs to tease you as you wash your chest off, "chiseled," Nero's middle finger brushes against you, causing you to shiver - but you're holding out, "wicked handsome boyfriend didn't show off to me every chance he got..."
You push against his back with a smirk on your lips and switch positions with him again as you step out of the shower. "Are you sure? 'Cause, I mean, I wouldn't call you perfect--"
"Hey!" Nero opens the curtain just enough to peek his head out - water drips down his temple as he points at you with his half-arm. "Take it back."
"Nero, you are the least perfect boy I know. You eat like a pig, turn into a demon when you orgasm too hard, and ruin all of our perfect sheets because you leak like a faucet when you're horny," You tease as you dry off, giving him a show that makes him do exactly what you'd just spoke of, "You have a temper to rival a bratty teenager, stinky feet, and I swear you never wear deodorant."
Nero frowns from behind the curtain, but he knows you don't mean it. "Yeah, well, you're--" He hesitates, distracted by his own arousal as it brushes against the curtain just a little too much, "You're... squishy and easily breakable."
"Well, no shit, babe," You wink as you wiggle your ass bending over, "I'm human. Not all of us can be sexy demon hybrids." You sigh dramatically as you offer him a full view of you bent over as you dry your hair off. He hates that it makes him throb. "It's a shame, too. I really wish I had cool wing hands."
As if to prove your point, you feel said wing hand between your thighs - it's nothing more than a soft ghost of a touch, as he never intends for it to hurt you. You wiggle back against it just to tease Nero and he nearly drools; your acceptance of his demonic nature is the sexiest thing you could ever do in this moment.
You know when the hand disappears and the shower curtain is pulled shut, Nero will be done soon. You take the time to dry yourself off and disappear from the bathroom before he notices you're gone.
When Nero returns from his shower, he's met with the sight of you, sprawled out in bed, offering him no mystery as to what your fingers are doing between your legs. "Took you long enough, babe..." you mutter, feigning boredom as you pleasure yourself in front of him.
In nothing but a towel, Nero walks forward - he holds the towel in his hand but it's quickly discarded the moment it clicks that he won't be needing it any longer. He crawls into bed so fluidly that you almost think he's still in battle-mode... until he pulls your ankle towards him to kiss; his lips trail up the inside of your leg, tickling you with stubble and skin alike. You can see that he's absolutely aching, but he wants this to be as good for you as it always is for him.
Your fingers part from yourself as you shift to give him something more to look at; Nero knows he doesn't need it, but he appreciates the sentiment by rewarding you with soft nips along your inner thigh. Each one makes you giggle with anticipation, fingers wiggling for him to come closer. His lips trail along your hip, up your stomach, and you finally get him close enough to tug on his hair.
He'd been so sure you'd push his head down that he isn't expecting to be pulled up into a heavy kiss. Your hands never leave his hair as he braces against the bed beside one of your armpits; he shouldn't find the way you practically force his lips apart so hot, but when he's this way, anything you could possibly do is the hottest thing he's ever seen. His kiss is sloppy, tongues dancing with one another as you use two enthusiastic ankles to pull him down against your chest. Though awkward, he does as you wish - you get the first taste that he's a lot more aroused than he originally let on when you feel something hot and slick brush along the entire length of your inner thigh.
One hand leaves his hair to reach between you enough to gently tug; Nero all but moans into your mouth, pulling away to look down at how you stroke him. "N-No fair," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against your chest. "You know I'm sensitive."
"Then do something about it..." You coo, continuing to gently stroke his length until he finally grasps your wrist, pulling it away - you can just see out of your peripherals that he's materialized his right arm, flexing it before he uses it to pin your hands against your own stomach. You wonder why not above your head, but it becomes clear as he slides down your body, spreading your folds and lapping at them in the same breath. You arch, biting your lip with a dark chuckle. "That's more like it..."
Nero mumbles something you don't catch against your warmth, his breath hot and heavy as he does all he can to pleasure you and tease you the way you deserve for being so cheeky. It gives Nero time to cool down - although your perfect taste only furthers his own arousal - and devise exactly how he's going to give it his all.
You don't mind when fingers disappear from spreading you, only to slip easily inside of you and pump. You squirm against his stronger grasp on your wrists enough to pull his head up just enough that he's lapping at your button instead. "Hope your--your jaw is ready," you murmur, offering him a grin when he looks up at you. You're pretty sure you could live in this moment forever, feeling Nero's hot tongue against your own, aching warmth. You love the way he looks between your legs, eyes half-closed and more focused on you than anything else in the room. You're pretty sure a meteor could burst through the ceiling and destroy everything and Nero wouldn't care unless it hurt you.
His determination is written plainly on his furrowed brow, his admiration in the way he spells words you can't quite figure out along your sensitive button, his arousal in the way his jaw brushes against your trembling thighs. His stubble tickles, making you giggle as he exhales a hot breath against your skin; his fingers pick up in pace, curling inside of you. They make you gasp, the way he makes a soft motion inside of you - you curl your fingers tight into his short hair and pull, pushing his mouth rougher against you. He gets the hint that maybe he should keep doing what he's doing, and he doesn't stop for anything.
"Nero--" You gasp softly as he rights his lips and tongue and slowly licks up you, allowing you a moment of respite before his tongue flicks so expertly at your already-sensitive button that you can't help but whimper. When your eyes shift to watch what he's doing, you just barely see his close as he goes back to concentrating. His fingers curl faster, pressing up against the spot he knows is going to make you come. "N-Nero, what are you--"
His right hand lets go of your wrists - you're thankful, tugging on his hair with both hands as you keep him right against you. Though he can't say anything, he doesn't need to as he feels your leg lift beside him. He uses his right hand to bend it, pressing your knee against your side; the readjustment makes your toes curl as he continues to work at you.
Your soft panting has him practically coming as you wiggle and squirm against him. "Nero I'm, I'm gonna--" You know it's hopeless to try and stop him - he wants this to happen, bed sheets be damned. His fingers motion faster inside of you, enough that it makes you arch against the bed and whine. "R-Right there, don't stop--"
Nero doesn't stop for the apocalypse as he works you to orgasm; you try to clamp your legs around his head, preventing him from doing much of anything, but he's quicker on the draw as two demonic, winged arms gently hold your thighs spread. Nero curls one arm around your thigh just to make sure, and you can't hold it anymore.
He's working you past your orgasm - you're sensitive, but that doesn't seem to deter his hungry mouth. He drinks in the way your gasps rise in pitch, just like they had the first time. He drinks in the way you tense all at once, gripping at his hair hard enough to pull it out if you were any stronger.
And, much to his surprise and your own, he drinks in most of what explodes out of you as you come; he pulls away from you, knowing you're far too sensitive for any more stimulation, favoring to continue fingering you even as you beg for him to stop. Though you've both just showered, Nero doesn't seem to care that he's getting another, his mouth dripping and open as he watches with half-lidded eyes the way you squirm and grasp at the sheets.
He only stops when you gasp out a quiet, "Fuck off, Nero!" You don't intend for it to come out that way, but you can't think, let alone form coherent sentences. It's not like you're making yourself squirt every time you masturbate. Perhaps you should have, if for nothing to prepare you for how Nero works you himself.
You just barely watch as his half-lidded, dumb stare turns into smug smirking as he wipes his mouth, sitting up just enough that he can slip between your legs and hold them down while you try to relax. Every movement makes you twitch, even as his own aching length brushes against you when he leans forward to nip at your throat. "Hot."
"I--I mean it this time, f-fuck off," you whisper, though you still don't mean it.
Nero just continues to nip at you, chuckling breathlessly against your skin. "And I mean it too. That was hot."
"I mean, yeah," he mumbles nipping at your jaw instead. "I get drenched in demon blood and guts every time I do my job. I'd say my girlfriend's squirt juice is an immense improvement."
You reach up with trembling fingers to push his head away from yours - he scrunches his face, nipping at your fingers as they slip to his mouth. "You--We just showered, asshole, now we're going to have to take a-another..."
"Mmm, don't care..." Nero, in one movement, lines up and bottoms out inside of you; you gasp, scratching across his shoulders. "Got paid well this time. Water bill's not a problem."
"Such a-an asshole, I sw-swear, why did I ever agree to date you..." You grip onto his neck as he starts to thrust, offering you no witty quip in return as he instead pants softly in your ear. With the way he's thrusting his hips, it doesn't take you long at all to catch on that he's trying to make you do what you just did again. "Nero..."
His hips thrust faster. "What?" He feigns innocence as he braces against the bed, feeling the way your fingers reach up to push his face away from your cheek.
"You stop it, I know--I know what you're doing..." You wiggle in place, making him whimper for just a moment before he flips you both - you brace against his chest now as he starts to thrust from underneath of you. "I'm--I'm going to kill you."
"Oh, I--I love it when you--when you talk dirty to me!" He teases; you rake your nails down the front of his chest, all the way to his hips. He squirms underneath of you, but offers you a toothy grin in return. "Just like that, baby!"
You hate how smug he is right now... but fuck, if his confidence isn't hot as hell. It's a welcome change to how nervous he is otherwise. Something in that brain of his must have switched on or off. You're not quite sure which is correct (probably off, because it's Nero), but you know you both love and hate it.
Especially when he pulls you down to kiss him and starts hitting exactly where he wants to thrust. You moan softly into his mouth, enough that it makes you blush. You'd normally appall rabid jack-hammering, but Nero pulls it off respectfully enough that you know you're not going to be sore. Hypersensitive for the rest of the night and probably all day tomorrow, but not in pain.
You can feel the pressure building as he continues to work you from underneath like he does it every day, even when he feels your fingernails dig into the bare skin of his muscled chest - he holds your hips tightly in his grip, eyes watching you intently as you moan softly on top of him. You're not sure when your own hips move to join the way he thrusts inside of you, but Nero doesn't stop you as the pressure builds, and builds, and builds.
"Nero," You gasp softly, pulling his fingers towards you. Nero doesn't need you to spell it out for him as he flips you both again and pulls out, replacing his aching length with his fingers instead; the same motion, the same speed, and you arch, drenching him yet again. It isn't enough to feel like a waterfall, but it's enough that he seems rather pleased with himself.
He leaves your legs to clamp around his arm while he continues to finger you, his other hand too caught up in jerking himself off; he hits his peak rather quickly watching you squirm around his fingers, adding to the already ruined mess of sheets.
After a moment, Nero gets the hint that maybe he should stop, and pulls out slowly, flicking his wet hand on the sheets. You almost push him off the bed when he brings his fingers up to suck on. "You are--are such a pervert..."
"What?" Nero looks offended you'd ever say such a thing. "I can't enjoy the way you taste?"
You push as his perfect lower stomach as you growl. "Nope, n-not allowed, it's law now..." You aren't at all actually angry; you love the shift Nero has had tonight, even if you know you're going to be sore many nights in a row with him knowing what he does now.
"Why?" Nero pouts - he knows its just banter as he leans forward to kiss up your calf. You jerk in response, his stubble ticklish - he steadies your leg and instead massages it, gentle in his after care despite being so cocky otherwise.
"I've... I've given you too much power. Should have--Should have never shown you what you can do."
Nero coos softly as he instead leans over your legs to press a soft kiss to your lips. You can taste his smug grin mixed among your own release. "That's all the power I need."