#zzzero x reader

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?"

The late afternoon hour demanded a stroll through town to pick up produce for dinner. While Manato bargains for leeks with wide, aggressive gesticulation and a loud voice, you meander away from the stall, attention drawn to another small stall boasting organic honey harvested from bees that have grown fat on clover and dandelion. The touch on your shoulder is, at first, hardly distinguishable from the bustling crowd around you. The second touch is firmer and finally drags your eyes away from the jars that have grabbed your attention.

The offending hand belongs to a man with wrinkles creased around the corners of his eyes and a large, flushed nose. Despite the sun drenching the world in shades of orange and yellow, you catch the stench of alcohol clinging to his breath. His hand remains on your shoulder.

“Heyyy. You, uh,” he stumbles on nothing and braces himself against your shoulder, “you from around here?”

You attempt to escape his grasp and disappear further into the crowd, but his grip is resolute. “Please don’t touch me.”

He doesn’t listen. “Come on, now. Don’t be like that. Just try’na getta know ya. That so wrong?”

“Yes, leave me alone.”

Your fingers curl against his and struggle against the strange strength afforded uniquely to drunkards and the desperate alike. Your body jerks away from his, another attempt that ends in the same failure. Whether you like it or not, this bastard has trapped you here.

“Alls of you bitches are the same,” he slurs. “Always puttin—“

The man cuts himself off with a strangled, throaty shout when another weight lands upon your shoulder. Your eyes draw up to find Manato’s hand clutching the drunkard’s with enough strength to turn the offender’s fingertips white and bloodless. You’ve always known your boyfriend to have the capacity for violence, but it is only now that you truly understand why so many people cross the street to avoid him. He radiates palpable menace, glowering down at the drunkard as if he would like no more than to tear him to shreds with just teeth and nails.

“Do we have a problem?”

The man blubbers for a moment, floundering.

“I was just—“ another strangled cry as Manato’s grip tightens enough for you to hear the bones in the man’s hand creak. “—No, sir! No problem at all!”

“Good.” Manato’s grip remains resolute as he lifts the man’s hand from your shoulder. “Because it would end poorly for you if we had a problem.”

The man whimpers.

“But, since we don’t have a problem,” another squeeze, “you’ll have no issue apologising.”

The man looks up at Manato with watery eyes. “A-A-Apologise?”

“Yeah. Apologise for touching them. Now.”

The man dips his head. “I’m s-so sorry for—“

Manato growls. “Not to me. To them.”

“I’m so sorry,” the man blubbers, turning those pathetic wet eyes to meet yours for a brief moment before tilting down. “I’m so sorry for touching you!”

This whole thing has been too much drama for what was supposed to be an easy run for ingredients. While it would greatly satisfy you to see this miscreant grovel further, you grow weary of drawing out this punishment any further. Judging by the trembling of his lip, he’s suffered enough. As such, when Manato looks down at you for confirmation of the validity of this apology, you merely nod. Manato’s lips twitch.

“Good.” He releases the drunkard’s hand, and the man goes stumbling backward, catching himself on the edge of the honey stall. “Go. Don’t let me catch you again.”

“Yes sir! S-sorry, sir!”

And then the man goes scrambling off into the crowd, disappearing with great haste. His touch is now little more than a memory on your shoulder, a brand soothed by the love of your protector.

Manato turns to you, placing both hands on your shoulders and looking down at you like he’s checking for damage. There’s a palpable concern in the furrow of his brow, a worry that makes him look more like a kicked puppy than the fearsome protector you saw moments earlier.

“Are you okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. He didn’t do anything.”

“I woulda killed him if he did.” Manato leans down and gathers you into a tight embrace. “Like, he woulda been dust before you even said the word.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss into his neck, then his cheek, then his lips. “My hero.”

Manato’s tail gives a sweeping wag that you feel more than you see. “Yours.”

His eyes trace the curve of your neck and darken, and you realize with a start that this kind of display should wait until the both of you are in private, beyond the nosy, prying eyes of the marketplace. You pull back from him with another laugh and rapidly search for a distraction. It comes in the form of a plastic white bag hanging from Manato’s shoulder.

“You got the leeks?”

Manato snaps out of it, pulling back with a wide, toothy smile, though his hand refuses to leave the small of your back.

“Yeah! Managed to get three for one, can you believe it? That’s, like, the best deal I’ve ever gotten.”

You smile in tune to his infectious enthusiasm as you draw him back to the marketplace thoroughfare. “Wow. Not a bad deal at all.”

"Whoa-ho-ho! I can see the video store from here!"

Billy's face was pressed against the glass of the ferris wheel, pointing every little thing he spotted, "Oh hey there's Nicole! And Anby! And...oops false alarm."

You were comfortably next to him, nodding along to all his little observations. This was actually the 5th time on this ride. You felt like you knew how to operate it at this point. For a robot, Billy had surprisingly convincing puppy eyes. It worked, every single time, without fail. The rest of the cunning hares were suddenly afraid of heights it seemed. Additionally, they kept trying to make you confess. Confess what exactly, you hadn't the slightest clue. You and Billy were buddies. That was all. Even if your heart stuttered at every interaction, it was probably a friendly stutter.

"...so it went flying and the biggest fattest 'whooshing' sound was made and I was like no way! But it was so way! Get what I mean?"

"Yes Billy," he was seated back next to you instead of head first in the glass, "you told me this on the 3rd ferris wheel ride, remember?"

"Oh, I did, eheh..." he sheepishly scratched his neck, realizing how many times he's dragged you into the ride with him, "it's just such an awesome story!"

You smile and nod, "Only cause you're the one telling it," you nudge his shoulder, "stories without your pizzaz are boring."

He puffs his chest, "Aw, of course they are! No one tells it like--"

The ferris wheel abruptly stopped, causing Billy to launch forward rather dramatically. You held onto your seat tight, safely avoiding a smack like his, "Woah hey, you good?"

You grab his collar from behind and peel him back to the seat. He splutters for a second, "What was that!"

"I think we're stuck," you take a peek down below, "just our luck, the very top..."

"Really? Sick!"

You glare at him. An announcement was made that the ferris wheel was facing a small issue. Great, this timing was exactly what you needed. Alone in an enclosed, close proximity area with a friend that was definitely starting to feel like someone you wanted more from.

"Hey, hey turn that frown upside down," he wrapped an arm around your shoulder when you sat back down, "at least you're stuck with me and not some stranger right?"

"Y--yeah, lucky."

You'd take the stranger. He was dangerously close. Your heart was about to rip itself out of your body and cuddle up to him. Your frown was evident, and Billy hated that. The only expression he wanted plastered on your face was a positive one. He loved making you laugh and smile, you did that a lot around him, he noticed. Definitely not staring, that'd be weird.

"Uh, sorry for forcing you to ride it with me like a million times," he took his arm off, "for what it's worth I'm glad it's you that I'm stuck with!"

He points finger guns at you, a laugh escaping. It was a small one, but to Billy it was a huge success, "I guess that's comforting. Thanks Billy."

He loved hearing you say his name, it always rolled off your tongue perfectly. Weirdly enough he didn't feel that way when anyone else did it.

"No problemo," he winked, "what should we do now..." his fingers tapped rhythmically against the window, but you were having a small crisis. Nicole was definitely onto something. Or on something. Probably both. His arm was around you, he winked at you. He just looked at you and it was enough to send you tk a hospital. Now's definitely an awful time to confess, if he said no then you're stuck for god knows how long up here with awkward air. If he said yes then...you had no idea but you do know that smile threatened to spread when you thought about it.

Screw it, just ask his type. No, he'll say Monica. Or starlight knights. Or Monica as Starlight Knights. Or--

"What's your type?"

"What's my what?"

"Your type. Like, in a partner?"

He tilted his head. You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn't notice his arm was right behind you while he asked the most dangerous question of all. Two options, lie or describe him to a tee. The secret third option was to jump out.

"Why...do you wanna know?"

"Just to pass time," he shrugged, "I'll tell you mine!"

"Oh please you're just gonna say Monica."

"You'll only know if you answer," he wiggled his eyebrows, "come onnnn."

You hesitated, "I've never really thought about it, but maybe a friend," you began, "they should be funny, energetic, kind, uh..." those were vague enough. But a part of you wanted to risk it.

"What about appearance?"

You looked the opposite direction and swiftly took in a deep breath, "In...Intelligent Construct...I guess?"

Billy was completely motionless. It was a little scary when you looked back. He's normally moving constantly. Leg shaking, arms motioning, but this? Absolute stillness? Honestly scarier than facing ethereals.

"B--Billy? Are you okay?"

You wave a hand in front of him, shifting in your seat to face him, "Could you respond? You're kinda freaking me out."

"...do you know other robots?"

The question came out quietly, which was a shocker for the boisterous Billy, "Uhm, Banyue I guess..?"

He immediately straightened at your answer, arms moving around, "W-wait but he's not energetic! It's gotta be someone else right?"

Was he trying to figure out who you liked? Hold on, he hadn't already figured out who you liked? You were a flustered mess before but frustration quickly took over at the absurdity of him not being able to figure it out. You knew a total of two Intelligent Constructs, one which you've had one conversation with, and Billy.

"Billy. Think about it."

"What? Think about what?"

"Oh my god."

"Seriously, what other robots are energetic and funny? I don't even know that many!"

"Billy!"

"What!"

"It's obviously you," you gesture to him with both hands, "you're my type, how did you not get that!"

"Well sorry I wasn't sure if you just happened to have another robot-- I'm your type?"

He shot towards you with a finger pointed at himself in disbelief, "Me? Billy? This Billy?"

"Dude, what other Billy is there?"

"Hey shouldn't you be swooning over me right now?"

"What are you talking...about..."

The realization dawned on you. That was a confession. You just confessed. While stuck in a ferris wheel 80 feet in the air.

"I'm...yeah," you look down, the floor suddenly more interesting.

"...don't you wanna know my type?"

"Huh."

The ferris wheel began moving again. An announcement was made, but it fell on deaf ears.

"My type is someone who likes listening to me, laughs at my jokes, smiles at every stupid thing I do, gets mad at me when I don't get the obvious and...human?"

He described you. That was basically him reciprocating. You were starstruck, "Sounds an awful lot like me."

"Wow you're quick," his eyebrows shot up, "I added in human so it was more obvious you know?"

"Of course you did," you smile at him with all the softness you could muster, "should've started with that."

You lift your hand and rest it on his cheek, he bristles at the sensation before leaning into it with shut eyes.

"I could get used to--"

"Hey lovebirds!"

Both of you jumped at Nicole's voice, forgetting that you were, in fact, still in a ferris wheel. You ripped your hand from Billy's face and sprang up. He joined in after a few seconds of processing that you needed to get off the ride.

"Uhm, would you like to go another round?" The worker asked with a tired face.

"Wait for real?"

"No! Thank you!"

That was when you connected the dots.

Lycaon didn’t like not being able to easily see you. Sure, he could still turn his head to look at you but just being able to glance at you from the corner of his eye was clearly the favourable option to him. Not only did it facilitate checking up on you, he was also simply charmed by you. Whether it was you savouring a drink or treat on your way through the city or the way your eyes would light up when you saw something in the shop windows that intrigued you, Lycaon didn’t want to miss it. Yet, your safety was still of the utmost importance to him, so in the end he’d always move to the side of traffic for you.

Well, at least you had finally figured out why your boyfriend always occupied the right side of the couch and the bed, leaving you to snuggle up on his left…

Speaking of bed time, after a long day at work, Lycaon gladly left brushing his fur to you. The feeling of the brush in combination with your fingers raking through his coat, untangling all the knots he so carefully tried to avoid and diligently ridding it of whatever was clinging to it after his duties were done, was deeply soothing. Honestly, the first few times you offered to help him, he had almost been embarrassed by how quickly the sensation dissolved all the tension from his shoulders. 

But, at this point, he gladly welcomed your gentle touch, even if it weighed down his eyelid and made it increasingly more difficult to stifle a yawn. Especially the attention you paid to smoothing out the areas that had been pressed down by his uniform all day had his eye soften with affection for you. As someone who looked after others day in and day out, it was nice being taken care of like this.

Although, to say this was any less relaxing for you, would be a lie. Lycaon took great care of his fur, so it was always soft to the touch and you never had any real troubles running the comb and brush through it. The only “problem” you sometimes encountered was his tail twitching between your hands as you tried to tend to it, the end tickling you in return for all the attention you were giving it. When you first met Lycaon, never in a million years would you have imagined he’d ever trust you enough to let you see this side of him, but now that he did, you couldn't help but smile fondly to yourself.

It was a rare luxury that you got to wake up in your lover’s arms after a good night’s sleep, reserved for the few precious days where Lycaon wasn’t working. Yet, that only made the mornings on which you could cuddle up to him further to shut out the day for a few more minutes even more cherished. An early riser by habit, there was a big chance the thiren was already awake before you, content to simply hold you for a little longer as you clung to sleep, soothingly running his hands over your back.

When you finally decided it was time to get out of bed, by the time you finished washing up and made your way to the kitchen, the delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee/tea already wafted over to you. Naturally, your lover had very quickly picked up on your preferences and would be damned if he couldn’t put his skills to use at home too. Handing you a warm mug, you soaked in the tranquility of the moment as you leant side by side against the kitchen counter, discussing breakfast options.

Yet, even on the days where he had to leave early for work, Lycaon still made you feel his love for you, even if he couldn’t be there when you got ready for the day. Be it your favourite bread in the basket on the counter or your lunch already prepped in the fridge, he always showed you that you were a priority to him, even after his day had barely started. These small affections were always accompanied by little notes, reminding you to eat, wishing you luck at work or simply telling you that he loved you, spelling out was he already conveyed so clearly.

If it wasn’t clear already, Lycaon would be nothing short of a true gentleman with you, always conscious of your presence and preferences. Be it opening doors for you, pulling out a chair or fixing your clothes, he was always the definition of attentive. And yes, the argument could be made that he was like this at work as well, however the guests of Victoria Housekeeping were never privy to that same affectionate glint in his eyes as he carefully fixed your necklace or even knelt down to fix your shoelace that had come undone. That was reserved for you and you only.

One thing he would not stand for, would be you being demeaned in one form or another. Of course, if you wanted to handle the situation yourself, he always let you, but reminded you he’d support you. If it was an accident, like a waiter bringing you the wrong order, he would very politely point it out. However, if someone deliberately mistreated you without showing any intention to change or apologise, he’d make it very clear that such behaviour wouldn’t be tolerated. He was well aware that you could handle yourself, but not every situation was easy to navigate and Lycaon would do everything in his power to protect you from harm; the last thing he’d want was to see you hurt.

If you were under the impression, however, Lycaon would never use his skills to tease you, you would be sorely mistaken. Really, he couldn’t help himself, your reactions were just too cute, so he’d rather not pass it up when the opportunity presented itself.

Seriously, with how often you’d already told your lover not to keep certain items on the top shelves, you’d think he’d already have remedied the problem. Yet, this particular complaint seemed to keep falling on deaf ears. Instead, when you were stretching to reach something once more, you’d suddenly find yourself trapped between the counter and the thiren that had appeared behind you, effortlessly reaching for whatever it was you needed. All the while, the nails of his hand resting comfortably on your hip dimpled the fabric of your clothes and his palm spread heat all the way up to your ears, especially when Lycaon leant just a bit more of his weight into you.

When he handed the item to you, he’d take one look at you and ask if there was something wrong. Perhaps if you didn’t know him well enough, you’d assume the question was truly innocent, that he just wasn’t aware of what he was doing to you. You, however, could very clearly identify the mischievous glint in his eye and the wolfish grin tugging at his lips.

Lycaon might be the death of you. But would you have it any other way?

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TAKE THIS, WRITER'S BLOCK, YOU BITCH

mindlessly, half expecting nothing, the barrage of photos and videos loaded. so this is where he kept everything he had of you? how adorable. caesar chuckled to herself at the occasional dumb photo of either you or him, there was a striking one of him in pigtails. his face was red with embarrassment, arms crossed and pouting like a fussy child, his hair in two short and choppy pigtails on each side of his head. that was surely a look. the next picture was a selfie of you and him with ice cream, he didn’t know he had a bit on his face while taking it.

the photos ranged from photos of you beaming next to an adorable kitten, to sultry photos you sent him late at night, pictures of you on his lap, images of you kissing him. okay, now she should put his phone down and pretend she never saw anything. nope, never touched it, didn’t look at all. the nagging voice in her head demanded she keep looking, intrigue getting the best of her. it was cute, she thought, what’s the harm?

the next swipes displayed a string of lewd photos back-to-back, some of you in a suggestive pose or kissing his neck.

oh my god.

oh. my. god.

she kicked herself internally for not putting his phone down earlier, nearly choking on her own spit. there it was, on his phone screen, a video of his dick right in front of your face. thankfully the volume was lowered, she pressed the side button a few times just in case, silencing it entirely. the video continued to play, your head in his lap as he sat on the edge of his bed, your body to the side as he held the phone down to capture the lewd sight at an entirely different angle. you slapped his shaft against your cheek a few times, giggling with amusement as his heavy cock made brief contact with your skin. after a few strokes, you ran your tongue down his length, making your way back up with a kiss to the tip. your tongue jutted back out to give a few more licks to the slit, licking up as much pre-cum as you could.

lighter’s free hand cupped your cheek, stroking the jawbone on the side of your face that you previously teased him with. his thumb then pulled the fat of your lip, bringing it down with a motion before letting it go. you eagerly swallowed his cock, only managing to take in a good few inches. lighter’s arm draped around your neck and shoulders, allowing you to suck his dick with no assistance. caesar looked around a few times, ensuring she was totally alone before upping the volume enough for only her to hear.

immediately, she could hear the lewd noises of your tongue and mouth working, your dominant hand stroking the base of his shaft as your lips managed the rest. lighter gave a few gentle praises, urging you further, his low groan ringing in her ears as you gagged trying to take more than you could handle. the video ended after you came up for a breath, stroking his cock as it rested by your cheek, your gaze loving and playful. it glistened with a thick sheen of spit.

with a shaky thumb, she swiped over to the next video. this one was filmed by you, angling the camera downwards enough. it looked like you two were in missionary, lighter on top of you. his voice could be heard, hand ungloved as it snaked down to stroke his cock a few times. he didn't have his jacket on anymore, either, sporting a shirtless look. his body was incredibly scarred, but his skin carried its own handsome charm. she could decipher the last few words he said, “— relax, i’ve got you. ‘kay?”

her eyes flicked down to you, as his hand moved to pull your underwear out of the way. he didn’t even bother taking them off, tucking them in the junction of your thigh and pussy. everything from the midriff down was exposed as you kept your legs spread open for him. your breathing was labored and shallow, likely from arousal. his hand tugged you closer to him, lining himself up with you. as he slid in, he pressed his hand onto the skin over your womb, applying a firm pressure. caesar could hear your cries, whiny and needy, his thumb immediately offering a semblance of comfort by dragging along your clit. his other hand grabbed the underside of your thigh, starting to pull out. his movements were loving and deliberate, attentive to your moans and shakes. your hands struggled to keep his phone stable as he picked up the pace, “you’re doing amazing, keep taking me.”

the video after was in a different position, his phone returned back to its original owner. the other hand held your arm back as he plowed into you from behind, face down and ass up. only your sobs of pleasure and the sound of skin against skin could be heard. his camera was angled perfectly to capture the unfiltered action, his cock sliding in and out of you with ample ease. with a grunt, he pulled your arm again, fucking into you with brutal thrusts. caesar never heard lighter curse that much in a few seconds, not even when he was seething with unbridled rage or injured and battered. “fuck, yeah, you like that? i know you do. goddamn tight, can’t live without this dick.”

the next video had another angle, his phone propped up against something presumably on his nightstand. lighter had both hands on your hips now, rocking your body back and forth as he dragged his hips in and out of your cunt. she could hear the bed frame below you two creaking and thudding against the wall. he was hunched over you, muttering in your ear between breaths, some words unsavory and vulgar, others sweet and encouraging. “need me? you need me to fuck you? you’re doing so good. you won’t let go of me, even if i tried to pull out.” his chest and abs were covered in sweat, locks dampened from the intensity. his lips trailed kisses from your ear, varying in intensity as they went down your neck. he nipped the skin, sucking it with feverish passion, biting your earlobe as he tugged at the hair above the nape of your neck. lighter pulled tightly, savoring your throaty mewl, “you love me? you love it when i fuck you? come for me. show me how much you love it.”

you muttered a few unintelligible words, grabbing at the sheets beneath you as your body shook with fervor, tears welling in your eyes with each helpless moan. lighter pulled harder, fingers intertwined deeply in your hair. in an instant, you trembled harder and cried out. wiggling your hips back and forth, seeking sensation to ride out your orgasm. lighter pulled your head back by the hair, spine arching as he pulled you up, knees still on the bed. you sobbed at the loss of his length inside you, suddenly feeling empty. lighter whispered in your ear, panting and flushed, stroking himself quickly. “that’s it, let me hear you, can’t help but come on my cock.”

with a final, deep stroke, lighter came on the lower part of your back right below the arch. your shoulder blades were flush against his chest. caesar paused the video, heat much more noticeable on her face and through her body. her cheeks were burning red, heart racing at the taboo of watching two people have sex. people she would argue she knows quite well. she closed out of his camera roll and put his phone down, turning it off.

the carnal lust in those videos she saw just couldn’t leave her. should she return his phone, or take a cold shower? should she leave it be, or mention she saw them having sex on his phone? no, no, nothing! don’t say a word at all. she didn’t see anything, she didn’t look through anything compromising. caesar sat in silence for a few more moments, processing what she had just discovered, jumping in her seat as lighter returned.

“hey, did you see my phone?” he approached her as she sat, his phone still in front of her on the table, “oh, there it is. thanks, boss.” lighter didn’t seem to notice her pale and clammy complexion, easily going about his business, unlocking it to send a text.