Top Posts Tagged with #argbur x reader

Hii! I don't know if this is appropriate, but did you have any thoughts or headcanons about Argbur? I would like to know ur vision of this bursona! :3

dating argbur (sfw and nsfw) headcanons

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hey, please don't apologise. i honestly never get asks so seeing this in my inbox was a treat. i just kind of wrote a train of thoughts, wasn't sure if this was technically a request but i'm not a professional so i just yapped. ended up yapping so much suddenly it was over 4000 words. i hope you enjoy even though this was unplanned/unedited and just a stream of consciousness about a bursona i haven't written about before.

masterlist

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word count: 4297 warnings (for nsfw portion): p in v sex, afab reader, unprotected sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), hickies and markings, bruises, cum eating, overstimulation, he's a munch with cold hands and uses them well. nsfw section separated at the end

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argbur is honestly a bursona i don't know much about, but i think everyone else is in the same boat because he is so mysterious, which is a big bit of the appeal.

if i could describe him with a song it would be Cold Cold Man by Saint Motel. other than the obvious he is physically cold to the touch no matter how many layers he wears or if he is inside a heated room. but i don't think he would be very outwardly romantic or affectionate, especially not in public.

he might put a hand on your thigh under the table, but mostly he gets comfort by just being beside you in the same room. a lot of sitting in bed together not saying anything while he plays guitar and you use your phone and stuff.

he would be super intimidating, no man is ever gonna approach you because he can just give them one look and they practically scamper off. you don't even notice it sometimes, but he is always there for you without needing to say it. he doesn't tell you you're beautiful, you know he thinks you're gorgeous by the way he trails your jawline with his finger, or palms your waist when you sit next to him on the couch.

i think there would be times he would get super clingy, when he gets paranoid and starts wanting to run away from everything, he'd lie with his head on your tummy and his arms around your waist while you play with his hair, and remind him how much you adore having him in your life. he wouldn't respond with words, just hum while he nuzzles your stomach.

when you do romantic things for him he smiles, ducking his head to hide the faintly noticable blush (since he never gets colour in his face, too cold and pale), and thanks you with a simple kiss on the forehead, already thinking of what he can get for you in return.

looooves taking baths and showers. the warm water feels like heaven, and sharing it with his personal angel just makes it perfect for him. sometimes it is sexual, but more often than not he just lathers his hands up and washes your body, cherishing every dip and curve. never asks for it, but loves it when you scrub him too, fingers trailing along his prominent veins, warming him more than the water itself.

frequently taking baths together, he goes the whole mile and adds flower petals, rich oils and lights candles. a comfortable level of intimacy as he rests your back against his chest, hands holding your stomach under the water as he closes his eyes and focuses on just the feeling of the water and your body against his own. again, it rarely gets sexual, he could spend hours just sitting with you silently, holding you like a precious gem.

but eventually the water gets cold and he blames himself, your skins starts to prune and you have to convince him to get out of the water despite his pout. you promise him another bath soon, and he looks away to hide his smile. after you get out of the water he dries you off himself, ignoring the way he is dripping onto the tiles and making a puddle.

takes the bottle of lotion right out of your hands and does it himself, taking extra care to make sure its smoothed all over your skin. blushes when its his turn to be moisturised, even though he tells you it doesn't matter and won't do anything to his cold, stiff skin. you do it anyway, and he feels seen.

any gifts you give he keeps like treasures, dries out the flowers you give him so he can keep them forever, the little trinkets you find are proudly displayed on his shelf and the knitted blanket you made him is always wrapped around his shoulders while he uses his computer. even though he is still cold, it makes him feel warm inside.

shows his love through acts of service, listening to music in his headphones as he wordlessly cleans your house, doing chores without you asking him to. sometimes you wake up to find your entire kitchen is spotless, and he just shrugs like its nothing.

gets that job done at your house you've been putting off, fixes that door that keeps getting stuck or tightens the taps so they don't leak. you thank him a hundred times, giving him lots of cheek and neck kisses because you know he loves it, and he just smiles, because seeing you happy is the best reward he could ask for.

he doesn't talk much, rarely opens up let alone talk about himself and his past. you know fragments, the tiny bits he has shared because he trusts you more than he trusts himself. you don't press him for more, even though sometimes you wish you knew what was going on inside his head. many times you ask him if he is okay, how he is doing, what he is thinking, and he just gives you that same smile you love and tells you he's fine. he truly is a mystery, and no matter how long you guys are a couple, it always feels like he keep some walls up.

he loves you, more than anything, but he can't bring himself to talk to you about his past. you know vaguely his history, enough that you aren't totally confused but majority of his past he keeps close to his chest. sometimes he thinks about telling you, late at night as his arms are wrapped around you. he wonders if it would ease his anxiety, but he is too paranoid it would put you in danger somehow. that you'd be upset and break because of him.

sometimes while you are asleep he whispers the secrets into your hair as he trails his fingers along your back. the faintest of tears in his eyes, lips pressed against your hairline while he says things out loud that he has never said before. it's scary, and he tenses when you move or mumble in your sleep. so he just focuses on the warmth of your body, and apologises for being so secretive.

your friends think he is an enigma, and in a lot of ways he is. they like him sure, but he is a little strange. sits silently while the whole table is having a conversation with out him, eyes scanning the room like he is keeping a look out for danger. comes along to events with you, and you have to assure your friends he is happy and having a good time even when he is just sitting and watching.

he smiles to himself as he watches you laugh with your friend while you stumble through a game of just dance, a pang in his chest as he knows he will never get to have friends like that. but he has you, and that is more than he ever thought possible before. when the song finishes and you sit back down next to him he buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and breathing in your scent. it calms him down immediately, but he is extra clingy for the rest of the night. you don't ask him why, you don't need to know the reason, you just need to be there to help him get through it.

remembers everything you say, all the tiny things he keeps track of. the bands you like, shows you watch, favourite foods, asks you about something you said weeks later and you are still shocked he remembered even after years together. he always surprises you with his devotion, but he thinks it is the least he can do since you've already done so much.

you keep him warm. physically yes, but emotionally fulfilled. he swears his heart actually starts to beat when you're around, his blood moving and warming his bones. everywhere you touch on his body practically burns with heat, he almost craves it. it grounds him, reminds him that he's real, that you're real, and you're right here with him.

would do anything for you. cherishes you like no other partner has before. treats you like a god, serving you like he was born to do it. wants you to be the best you can be, can't imagine a world without you now that he knows how warm the world can be with someone by your side.

doesn't like being away from you, even for short periods of time. he is quite clingy, even though when he is there he just stands close, occasionally hooking his pinky finger around yours as you walk side by side. he keeps you in his sight, watching your back despite not being in any danger. he is paranoid something bad will happen to you because of him, so he is vigilant.

when you're home together he is always in the same room, often not doing the same thing but he needs to be close. working on his laptop while you're reading a book, reaching over to squeeze your thigh to remind himself yes, you're here. he is okay.

plays guitar for hours of the day, not songs but just plucking the strings and singing soft melodies. the most he ever opens his mouth to speak is when he sings, it's like a separate language and he comes alive. his voice is gentle and warm, it still gives you butterflies no matter how often you hear it.

he plucks the strings as he sits on the couch, the ambience filling the room while you're studying. it's a comforting presence, and you find you don't need headphones because he is more than willing to be brilliantly soothing background noise. while he is usually just improvising and playing casually, if you ask him to play a song he's learning it as quick as he can. he already practiced all your favourite songs a hundred times until he was sure they were perfect, strumming the guitar as he sang softly for you late at night. you thank him and he smiles. all the hours were worth it when he sees how happy you are because of him.

treats the guitar with almost as much reverence as you. Never goes more than a day without playing it, wipes it down before and after so it is spotless. its scratched and aged with time and history you long to know, but part of you wonders if the knowledge would be any good to you. the strings are always brand new, keeps it in tune and is so protective he refuses to let anyone touch it.

except for you, when you shyly ask if he will teach you to play and he has to stop himself from giggling excitedly as he shows you wear to put your fingers and guides you to find the right notes. he is a little embarrassed by hot he finds watching you play, how sexy you look with the guitar on your lap and your fingers running across the fret board. he is quick to imply it with his actions after he's put the guitar back on its stand for safe keeping.

you tell him he should actually write songs and he shakes his head, cheeks again that faint pink as he tells you he hasn't got anything to say worth writing a song for. you disagree, but don't push him on it. in notepads he's terrified to show you he does write songs, pouring his soul out like a diary. while you're away at work he sings them out loud, tears sliding down his cheeks. he tells himself its therapy, but maybe its a selective torture. he isn't quite sure.

when in public he is basically your guard dog, standing silently while you talk to friends or browse the aisles of the store. speaks when spoken to of course, but he mostly listens. he likes the sound of your voice, loves when you get excited and ramble, words spilling over each other as you tell him about something you love.

touches you randomly, little touches of adoration. a kiss to the forehead, playing with your fingers, a cold hand on the small of your back as you walk down the street. presses his thigh up against yours when you sit next to each other even when there is plenty of room on the couch. rests his head on your shoulder, plays with your fingers idly. pulls you in for random hugs where he tucks you into his chest and puts your head under his chin, squeezes you so tight before the embrace ends just as quickly as it began and he is back to being your shadow. he wants to be close, he needs to be close. and you're happy to have him there.

-- nsfw below --

when you guys get intimate, he would be a giver. Of course he likes to get a blow job like any red blooded man, but as i said he shows his love through touch- and best believe he would be all over you when he wants to be.

takes his time during foreplay, lots of kissing and caressing you with his cold hands that make you shiver. is slow when he takes your clothes off, pausing between each button and just smirking softly when you complain about how long he is taking.

kisses down your body slowly, cherishing every spot of your skin. spends ages just on your tits, his mouth and hands working them until you are quivering, wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to get some friction but he is happy sucking your nipple while he gently pulls and pinches the other.

after trailing kisses and sucking soft bruises down your stomach, he wouldn't rush to oral. he's kissing up your inner thigh, then kissing up the other. massaging your muscles, humming contently as you whine and try and tug him closer, but you know its no use. and the wait will be worth it.

uses those cold hands to hold your folds open, just enjoying himself as he explores your body. he knows what makes you moan, what makes you cry, what makes you scream his name. casually circles your entrance with one finger tip, still kissing at your thighs and purposefully ignoring where you need him most.

your already dripping when he finally puts his mouth on your clit, sucking it slowly but firmly. circling it with his tongue, sighing into your cunt as he tastes you. eyes closed, this is exactly where he wants to be. he loves how warm you are down here, makes him feel alive.

by the time he slides a long finger into you you barely notice the chill from his touch, clenching around him as he makes you cum stupidly fast once he actually starts working you to an orgasm instead of just teasing you. one becomes two, and before he crawls back up your body you've given him two more.

he loves missionary, because he can be so close. chest to chest, feel your warmth surrounding him in more ways than one. your legs locked around his waist, arms around his long neck. one hand holds your hip, the other cupping the back of your neck as he slides inside.

it took some time getting use to how his cock felt inside you, the cooling sensation like nothing you'd experienced before. but now you can't imagine him any other way. i think he would be quite long, but not as thick as the other bursonas. hits so deep you swear he's tapping the bottom of your spine, making you arch off the mattress as he mouths at your throat.

fucks slow but hard and deep. every thrust is purposeful, again- he isn't gonna rush something as enjoyable as being inside you. your warmth, it is addictive. it's the only time he feels like he isn't empty, like he isn't missing part of himself. like this is exactly where he is supposed to be.

thumb rubbing your clit, making sure you get of a couple times on his cock before he even things about finishing. burying his face in your tits as he finally starts to speed up, you're whining that you can't give him another orgasm and he's telling you that you can, that you always do, for him, please.

always kissing you and touching you while he continues to fill you up again and again, mumbling almost inaudible praise against your skin. tongue sliding up your neck as he cups both breasts with his cold hands, nipples hardening against his palms due to the temperature. you let out an excited squeak when he nibbles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, soothing the faint mark with his tongue and lips soon after.

hands can never stay in one place for too long. playing with your tits then sliding down to grope your ass and pull you into him, letting him get deeper impossibly deep inside you. trailing along your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh and loving the way his long fingers press into the plump flesh, watching the goosebumps rise as he still makes you cold despite his cock literally being inside you.

doesn't give hickies, doesn't want to ruin your perfect warm skin. nibbles occasionally, but the marks never last by the next morning. instead he is always kissing, always licking, tasting the warm skin that he adores so much. from your neck down to your tits is usually covered with salivia by the end, and he apologises even after you tell him you like it.

when you kiss his neck, it makes him fuck a little faster before he catches himself and slows back down to that hypnotic pace that is focused entirely on your pleasure. he doesn't wanna be selfish, you are his religion and this is how he worships the alter of your body. but you notice how his fingers flex, dig in a little harder when you suck a mark onto his throat.

any marks on his skin last for days, even if you aren't being that rough. he is so pale and cold, he bruises so easily. you scratch your nails down his back after he his that special spot inside you, and the red lines are there for a week. when you brush your fingers against them later he has to bite back a groan.

you nibble and suck at his neck and he is panting, arms threatening to buckle but he manages to stay above you. doesn't ask with his words, just tilts his head up or to the side and you get the messages. you mouth is so warm, god its so fucking warm. and your tongue, hot and wet, makes him dizzy. he's covered and purple and red marks all over when he catches himself in the mirror later, and he is thankful that he always wears his big coat so no one can see his shameful pleasure.

on the rare occasions you actually spoil him in the bedroom, it's magical. he always deflects at first, saying he doesn't need it and would rather make you feel good but you're insistent. lying him on his back completely nude as you mimic his technique, worshiping his body with your mouth and hands.

he is shivering, not from the cold but a mix of fear and excitement. every touch his red hot, and he swears his skin is burning when you're trailing along his chest, thumbs brushing against his nipples as his cock twitches against your thigh. mouthing at his neck while your free hand jerks him off, he's throbbing against your palm. his dick is cold to the touch, but with every pump it warms up a fraction.

he isn't very vocal in the bedroom, almost entirely quiet grunts and groans, breathing heavily into your ear. doesn't dirty talk much, other then the occasional bit of praise and encouragement for you to finish for what feels like the hundredth time. but when you are on top, showing him the love and affection, he is a mess.

whimpering and whining, it's cute as you watch his bite his bottom lip to keep quiet, even cupping a hand over his mouth. he doesn't want to sound pathetic and weak, he hates how vulnerable and small it makes him feel. you tell him you love the way he sounds, how it turns you on. it takes time and lots of patience, but he slowly gets the confidence to stop being so shy about his own pleasure and enjoyment.

when you get your mouth on him, he could cry from the sensation alone. its so warm, your hot, wet mouth engulfing his length. since he's so long, you struggle to get down to the base without gagging. he tells you not to push yourself or get hurt, pulling your hair gently to get you to breath but you are determined. you want him to feel as good as you do when he gets between your legs.

his cock is leaking constantly, coating your tongue in his pre as you suck him off. his thighs are shaking, fists gripping the sheets to hard you swear he might rip a hole in them. his hips buck up and he whimpers an apology. his instincts tell him to fuck up into your mouth, but he can't bring himself to do that to such a pretty face. so he gently pats your hair, caressing the strands and occasionally giving him the smallest tug, not to dominate you but to show you how much he appreciates you doing this for him.

he is adamant he needs to finish inside you, that its the only way he wants to orgasm anymore. and almost always you agree and let him, but on the very rare times he does finish in your mouth its almost always by accident. his eyes closed as his mind can only think about how warm your mouth feels, how soft your tongue is as it slides against his shaft, how your throat constricts around him like it belongs there.

he is so lost in it before he can stop himself his orgasm has already hit, groaning as he shoots thick ropes down your throat. the cold sensation of his cum on your tongue was strange the first time, but now you find it very enjoyable. he is already apologising to you before you've swallowed the last ropes of his sperm, and you are just as quick to reassure him its okay when you pull off him and show him your tongue covered in his cum, before swallowing it down with a smile.

after you've blown him and feeling returns to his body, you are basically bed bound for the next hour. he has to return the favour, you tell him its fine and he basically uses your thighs as earmuffs and devours you. he's only satisfied when you're boneless on the mattress, not even trembling just limp, and he just smiles proudly.

loves finishing inside you, and fucking raw (safe sex is important guys please wear condoms but this is a fantasy about fucking wilbur soot's character from a like 6 year old arg, it's okay) because it makes him feel so much more connected. when he fills you with his seed its cold too, a strange cooling sensation deep inside that always make your head spin.

he cums a lot, it's always thick and you swear if he wasn't cold and half alive you'd have gotten pregnant already. for some reason you never do despite the fact he's flooding your womb at least once a week, but you don't ask any questions. it's one of the many things about him that is a mystery, just a very messy and pleasurable one.

he stays inside for a while after you've both finished, making out and lazily rocking his hips. didn't rush sex, isn't about to rush pulling out when it feels this good. of course eventually he has to, and i think that munch would get back between your thighs to clean you up. if you've got the energy, maybe one more orgasm, but if you're too sensitive he just licks slowly, drinking down your combined essence like its a ritual.

runs you a bath without you asking, brings a bottle of water and has the bed made for you when you come back. always big spoon, or he lies on his back with you draped across his chest. his arms have to be around you, holding you as close as possible. waits for you to fall asleep before he does, just to make sure you're comfortable.

while you're both still naked and feeling the bliss of your climaxes, sometimes he grabs the guitar and sits against the headboard as he plays. you close your eyes and listen to the music like its gospel, soothing any aches from working your body so hard and you can barely mumble out a thank you and an i love you before you're drifting off. he puts the guitar away after that, not before playing the song he wrote you but hasn't got the confidence to play for you yet. maybe next time, he tells himself.

even while asleep he doesn't let go, it takes a lot of effort to slip out of his arms in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. and when you come back he's awake and pouting, telling you the bed is too cold despite the extra blankets you always have.

he adores you, and you adore him.

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ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ, ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀɪ.

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