#repost from AO3

[rjthirsty]

Deceit and Decay

What if Belle didn't fall in love with the Conqueror Beast? What if his last hope abandoned him simply because she didn't know he existed? Would his black heart break and crack or grow as hard as stone?

An AU where Chevalier is crowned for Rhodolite, Gilbert lost his last shred of humanity, and MC (Dahlia) is thrust into a nightmare world where deceit and decay are everyday occurrences.

CW: Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Explicit Sexual Content. Full list on ao3.

Chapter One

Rating: T

Word count: 3,391

Chandeliers sparkled from dozens of candles, their flames dancing along the crystal, reflecting and refracting the light to create a ballroom of stars for the nobility invited to King Chevalier’s coronation. The ceremony had concluded earlier, and now foreign nations and the highest members of Rhodolite society mingled throughout the brilliant ballroom. Every person was dressed in dazzling finery, with women sparkling just as brightly as the chandeliers from gold and silver embroidery on their dresses, and men decorated with medals and accessories that told of their achievements to their kingdoms.

No matter how many times Dahlia saw the nobility dressed to the nines, she always found them captivating in their clothes that cost more than her home had when she was a commoner working at a bookstore. Now a minister of the court in training, her clothing was also of a higher quality than she used to own, but still rather modest compared to the guests in attendance today. She had to keep her station in mind and dress appropriately.

Nearly a year ago, she had come to the palace as the new Belle, and after a month of learning about the kingdom and the princes, she had chosen Chevalier to become the next to sit on the throne. It took some time before it was announced that the former king had passed, and then more time to name Chevalier as the successor to the public and surrounding kingdoms. There were reasons for the delay, but none of that mattered now that he was formally recognized as the ruler of Rhodolite.

Locating Chevalier was always easy in these situations due to his chilly and impersonal interactions with others. Today, however, instead of most people keeping their distance from Chev and his cold aura, more people than one could easily count were grouped around him, making introductions, offering their congratulations and respect, and some were already leveling talk of new reforms or future marriage proposals.

Dahlia did her best to bite down a smirk. She knew Chevalier very well and could see how tiresome he was finding all the interactions, but he was doing his best as a leader for the country and she considered praising him later for that. It warmed her heart how much he had changed over the last year. Most wouldn’t see a difference, but she did, and his brothers did as well. She counted herself lucky to have been able to witness the change in him - Sariel offering her a position to be a court minister was not originally part of the Belle process.

The celebration had begun shortly before dusk, with the ballroom dyed in shades of oranges, reds, and pinks just like the roses of their kingdom. The ballroom’s large windows faced the west in order to achieve the effect, and Dahlia had to appreciate the architecture and symbolism that went into constructing the palace for something she would have never considered before coming here. As the sky dims, and darkness threatens to penetrate the festivities, that’s when the chandeliers shine their brightest and mimic the night sky full of stars and wonder.

Another party attendee entered the room, announced by name and title by the attendant managing the door. The lower lord went largely unnoticed by the rest of the party goers, who mixed and mingled and drank, having polite conversations and politely laughing when appropriate. There were so many rules Dahlia had learned in her time at the palace, and her time in training to be part of the court.

“Don’t you think you’re staring a little too intently at King Highness?” A voice purred in her ear. Dahlia smiled and breathed in Nokto’s seductive scent, turning her gaze on him as he slipped an arm around her waist.

“I think I’m staring an appropriate amount for a minister in training who is proud of their King.” Her eyes moved from Nokto’s cherry colored irises to his lovely lips pulled into his signature smirk.

“Hmm? Not at all like a lover gathering intel on those who he might wed?”

He was toying with her. Teasing as he tended to do.

“Are you feeling a little jealous and perhaps projecting?” Dahlia grinned at her own quip.

Nokto laughed. “Not in the slightest. I’m enjoying my life, and enjoying you as well.”

Nokto casually slipped his hand down Dahlia’s waist to her rear and gave it a firm squeeze. Subtly, Dahlia leaned closer to Nokto, giving him as much attention as she dared in front of a room full of nobility who were aware of her status.

“I think that’s enough of that, Prince Nokto. I’m sure there are plenty of ladies here who would fight tooth and nail to have some of your attention. I’m not in need of company.”

Dahlia’s eyes met Nokto’s, and for a moment the two of them simply stared at each other. Nokto watched Dahlia to determine if she really was doing as well as she claimed, and Dahlia holding fast to her resolve to show him a wife for King Chevalier would not break her.

“It wouldn’t be an issue if you visited me before the guests leave. I’m just a philandering prince, no one will care that we’re lovers.” Nokto murmured before taking a step away from Dahlia, letting his fingers drag along her waist as they fell from her form.

“Thank you, Prince Nokto. I’ll keep that in mind.” She curtsied with a bow to her head.

Nokto departed, swarmed almost immediately by others who gave Dahlia a few sharp glares. She was used to that, at least. She had shown up at the palace and been granted access to every location under the guise of being a minister in training, though at the time she was Belle, a commoner with a pure heart who was to choose the next king. She had yet to be elevated into society, needing the king to bestow her a title befitting that of a court minister. That day wasn’t far away now, but being in the palace for nearly a year, and the not so secret mistress of more than a few of the princes didn’t earn her any kindness from the noble class.

“Announcing Prince Gilbert von Obsidian, First Prince of Obsidian.”

A hush overtook those standing nearer to the door and Dahlia glanced over to see the worldwide disaster himself, head to toe in black, pleasant smile on his lips and a dangerous glint in his blood-red eye. Black boots thudded on the rose-quartz tile. Black cane thunked with every sure step he took. Gilbert’s presence sent other attendees politely moving away from his location as if he carried a fog of fear around him wherever he went.

Dahlia couldn’t blame the rest of the guests, Prince Gilbert was a symbol of death and destruction. Obsidian had invaded once before, ten years ago, a day known now as Bloodstained Rose Day. It was a tragic part of Rhodolite’s recent past, and had devastated more than one settlement near the border. Dahlia didn’t understand when it had happened, living in the capital had her far from the danger, but she was aware of the consequences and the effects that invasion had on the populace and politics now.

Seemingly unphased by the cold reception, Prince Gilbert moved through the room. Not a single person spoke to him, though he had plenty of eyes on him. Dahlia had also been instructed not to speak with him unless absolutely necessary. Sariel was adamant about her avoiding interacting with him. From the way he spoke of Prince Gilbert, she had thought of him like some sort of vicious villain out of a novel. It was surprising to her on first meeting that he was quite good looking and congenial. He spoke politely and never dropped his smile.

He reminded her of Clavis. Clavis hid behind his smile. No matter if he was scared, nervous, angry, or otherwise, he put a smile on and presented that to the rest of the world. Sometimes Clavis even wore his smile with her, but she had learned to tell his real smile and his mask apart. There was more to Prince Gilbert than his smile, though. It didn’t matter how handsome he was, or how polite he spoke, Dahlia could feel the darkness that clung to him. Like the black that he wore, he was shrouded in something that caused her heart to beat quicker with fear.

As Prince Gilbert sliced through the crowd, Dahlia realized the empty space around him was headed directly towards her. She quickly glanced around attempting to locate Sariel - he was no doubt busy handling foreign guests and nobles alike. Under King Chevalier, Sariel held the most power in the palace, though most wouldn’t know it unless they resided here and interacted with the princes like she had. Unable to find the black hair of her mentor who stood taller than most, she spotted Jin making his way through the party in her direction. Luckily, Jin was also taller than most and easy to notice.

Hastily, Dahlia headed for Jin, discomfort growing in her chest. Too late, she realized why her heart had begun to beat erratically. Too late, she realized the discomfort she felt was tendrils of fear attempting to root her to the spot. A shadow of malice and smiles stepped in front of her, blocking her path, his red eye trained on her.

“Where are you running off to, Little Rabbit?”

Prince Gilbert somehow had cleared the distance much faster than any normal person should have. He stood between her and Jin. He stood between her and the rest of the party. With every person giving him a wide berth, Prince Gilbert was the only one within at least 15 feet. She felt cornered. She felt like prey that had been separated from the safety of the group.

Dahlia clenched her hands in her skirts, attempting to hide that they were trembling - she wasn’t even sure why they were. Offering a slight bow of her head and a curtsey, she put on her best smile and met his gaze. “Good evening, Prince Gilbert. If you are looking for an attendant, allow me to find someone to assist you.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Prince Gilbert smiled a little wider.

“It won’t be?” Dahlia looked confused. Surely there was a reason he had approached her.

“You see, I’ve already found who I was looking for.”

Dahlia quickly glanced around, it was just the two of them, so there was no one else he could be referring to besides– “Me?”

“Ahaha,” Gilbert laughed. His laugh was youthful and bubbly, and felt completely out of place with the way his presence made her feel. “You look surprised, Little Rabbit.”

“I am.” Dahlia admitted, her eyebrows knitting together for a moment before she remembered to try to be pleasant with him. “Did you perhaps need something for your stay? I can speak with my mentor about tending to you.”

“There is something you could help me with. I seem to continually misplace my guide. Perhaps if you’d escort me around the palace, I could get a better idea of the layout of the place.”

For some reason, this felt like a trap. Dahlia couldn’t explain it, but everything was lining up too easily. She had never spoken to Prince Gilbert before, and only saw him when he was welcomed as a guest to the palace. Why he’d single her out and be showing such an interest didn’t sit right with her. Maybe he mistook her for one of the palace servants? He was being so friendly as well, the request was just that - a request. He didn’t demand her escort him, but the way he asked it seemed like he didn’t really give her a choice to say no.

“Hey, Dahlia, there you are.” Jin’s deep voice cut through Dahlia’s thoughts and she tore her eyes away from Gilbert to see Jin smiling down at her.

“Prince Jin.” She responded in greeting. “This is Prince Gilbert.” She hadn’t forgotten that it was an expected formality for her to introduce the princes to any guests, even if they were aware of who they were.

Jin took a spot slightly in front of Dahlia, almost like he was attempting to shield her from Gilbert, but couldn’t be obvious about it. He looked down on Gilbert, who was several inches shorter than the Rhodolite prince. His smile that he had offered Dahlia fell away, and he practically grunted a non-committal noise to acknowledge the Obsidian prince.

“Haha. You’re so cold. And after I came all the way here to offer congratulations to your newly crowned king. The least you could do is offer a bit of hospitality and proper greetings.” Nothing had changed with the way Gilbert stood, nor his tone or even his smile, but Dahlia suddenly felt even more uneasy than when she imagined being cornered by Gilbert.

“Yeah, evening. Glad you could make it. King Chevalier is over that way.” Jin fired off the expected pleasantries in a monotone that said he was doing the bare minimum and no more for the foreign prince. He nodded towards Chev, who hadn’t moved since the ball started.

Dahlia subtly shifted her foot silently along the tile to inch a bit further behind Jin. She didn’t want to make it seem like she was hiding from Prince Gilbert, but the aura he gave off felt like he was angry– no, it was more than that. It was like silent rage, and it started when Jin arrived.

Gilbert’s red eye slid in her direction and she froze, the tendrils of fear she had felt earlier wrapped fully around her lungs and it felt impossible for her to be able to draw in breath. Her hands began to tremble again, still held in her skirts from where she had hid them earlier.

“Dahlia, Sariel needed something from the ministerial office. Said you were the one to talk to about it. Mind letting me borrow you for a few?”

“Huh?” Dahlia all but squeaked, Jin’s words echoing in her head like she had heard them on the other side of a cave. She looked up at Jin, trying to make heads or tails out of what he had said. Suddenly she was able to draw breath again. Suddenly everything came back into focus. “Oh! Of course, Prince Jin. I’ll get right on that.”

With her hands balled into fists, Dahlia curtsied again to the Obsidian prince, keeping her eyes downcast. “If you’d excuse me, Prince Gilbert.”

“I’ll see you again, Little Rabbit.” Gilbert left those parting words and strode further into the room. The crowd continued to split and filter away from him as he moved.

His boots thudded sure-footedly against the tile, though he seemed aimless in his direction. His cane gave a precise thunk that felt like there was a heavy finality in the sound. Dahlia watched him move away, and finally the fear that had gripped her slithered away, following him like a shadow.

Jin set a large hand on her shoulder, gently aiming her towards the door to the ballroom. “About that thing Sariel needed.”

“Right. Yeah.” Dahlia agreed and the two of them exited the ballroom.

The sounds of the music and chatter faded quickly as Jin and Dahlia moved through the familiar hallways towards the ministerial offices, far removed from the social areas and guest quarters. Several nobles from the outer edges of Rhodolite were staying in the palace, and all foreign guests were granted rooms fitting their station for the occasion. The hour was still early in the evening, and the castle staff was bustling about, but in this section of the castle there weren’t many attendants around.

“It won’t be long, now, will it?” Jin mused out loud.

Dahlia looked up in his direction, curiosity pulling her thoughts away from the strange and frightening encounter she had just had with the First Prince of Obsidian. “Until what?”

“Until Chev gives you a title, and you can be a real court minister. Sariel tells me you’re a quick learner and I know you’re diligent with how many times I’ve seen you studying on your own.”

“You’re watching me while I’m studying?” Dahlia smirked amusedly. That was exactly the thing he was looking for from her, a real smile. He had worried that Gilbert had said or done something to bother her before he arrived to wrest her away from him. He didn’t trust the guy at all.

“Only when you’re doing it past adult hours. You should be living rather than working, trust me on that as an older man.” Jin puffed up his chest like he was proud of the years he had on her.

“Jin, when have you ever thought of yourself as an old man?”

“Never. But I call myself one when it suits me. And I have a lot of experience in enjoying life.” He offered a bright grin.

“Mhm. I see. So, according to my wiser, experienced, older lover, I should forego improving myself as quickly as possible so I can trawl the breweries and taverns with him to experience living between the legs of another person. Do I have that right?”

“Nope. Between the breasts of another person. But I suppose preferences are preferences, and you have a nice set of your own so you don’t need another woman to cuddle up to for that.”

The quiet hallway filled with Dahlia’s laughter. Jin chuckled along with her.

“Thank you for that, Jin, but I am very satisfied with the people in my life at the moment.”

“Yeah, well…” Jin trailed off as they came to the door of the ministerial offices. It wasn’t like him to not finish a thought and Dahlia quirked her head to the side as she looked up at him. An unhappy expression briefly crossed his face, his eyebrows drawn together and a slight frown at the corners of his mouth, but just as she opened her own to ask him about it, Jin spoke. “You know, I’ve forgotten just what it was that Sariel said he needed.”

Dahlia gave him a blank stare. “You’re not serious.”

Jin gave a shrug and reached into his pocket, pulling out a lollipop. “Very serious,” he said as he stuck the candy in his mouth.

With a sigh, Dahlia turned back towards the way they came. “I’ll just go ask him myself.”

“Naw, don’t do that.” Jin side stepped to put himself just slightly in front of her, not actually blocking her path, but showing he wanted her to stay for a moment. “If it’s that important, he’ll send someone else.”

Dahlia looked down the long corridor in front of her, then narrowed her eyes at Jin. “You’re suggesting we don’t return to the party.”

“Got it in one.” He pulled the sugar candy from his mouth and brought it close to her own lips. “How about we ditch the stuffy affair and go do some living.”

Her eyes moved from the sucker to Jin as she contemplated the choice. She wasn’t really needed at the party, and King Chevalier would be busy into the night, and then likely for a few days afterwards as guests slowly trickled out of the palace. She couldn’t entirely help Sariel tonight with anything, being still a trainee, her place wasn’t speaking to the nobility. It was probably better for her - safer for her - to not return since it was clear that Prince Gilbert was in attendance.

Delicately, her lips parted and tongue gingerly traced the side of the lollipop. Dahlia watched Jin as she licked his candy, deliberately drawing it out to see the slow smile that crawled on his lips. “Mmm. My room?”

Jin slipped the sucker back into his mouth. “You’re so damn cute.”

With a quick step and a bend, Jin snatched Dahlia up into his arms. Her laughter once again rang through the otherwise silent hallway as she reveled in the joy of the moment. Jin carried her towards her room, knowing the way by heart, and Dahlia giggled and kicked her feet, planting kisses along Jin’s neck and jaw, knowing how it would work him up before they got to their destination.

[gauloiseblue]

Keep Your Eyes On Me

[Giorno Giovanna × Reader]

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you could paint someone as magnificent as Giorno, but it happened just like that. It all started from a small talk about the weather and the lovely sight of his private garden. But as soon as you talked about the progress in your project, he immediately proposed something you wouldn't expect.

"If you really need a model for your painting, you could've just asked me."

You snapped your head towards him at lightning speed.

"For real?" You asked, and he nodded without hesitation. "I mean—isn't that dangerous? I might end up exposing your identity! Because it's gonna be exhibited in the gallery and—and since your face would be on my painting—" You stammered as you tried to explain, "Someone might recognize you, and—"

"Hey, calm down. You think too much." He said with an amused grin, "No one has ever seen my face, except for the few people I trust."

He tilts his head when you squint at him, “I doubt that.”

“You can change my hair color, or alter my face a little bit if you’re still unsure.” He suggested, “Like I said earlier, I don’t mind becoming your muse.”

An amused snort came out from you louder than you intended, “That’s a bold choice of word, Gio.”

“But you always whine about not having a muse.”

“Well,” You scratched your nose, “What I mean by that is having an ordinary person as my muse, not the legitimate Don of passione.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with that.” He raised his brow, and an exasperated sigh left your mouth.

“That’s not it…” You mumble while your head’s down, not looking at his direction, “It’s just that… I’m worried about your safety, Gio. I don’t need to be a part of the mafia to know that everyone wants you dead. Not everyone, but you get my point.” You corrected, “I don’t want to accidentally put you in danger, y’know?”

For a moment, the conversation went cold. He didn’t say anything, and you didn’t look at him. But then you hear footsteps, and a hand slips onto your cheek as he cups your face. “You really have the tendency to make me work for it.” He retorted gently, “I offered myself to be your model because I know you want me. But it’s not your job to worry about me, (Y/N). I want you to finish your project first, before you decide what to do with the painting.” He smiles, “Capisce?”

Although you didn’t get cold feet, it seemed like Giorno thought otherwise. Because he holds you still when you step away, and his grip is firm on your waist.

“Alright, alright.” You compromise, “I’ll do it, okay? I’m gonna take my stuff first, so can you please let me go for a sec?”

—

The painting equipment you bring is quite heavy, but you refuse to let his man carry them for you. You’ve surveyed the ideal place for the background, and you quickly set up the easel. While you set down your brushes and color paints, you watch the men arrange a long sofa by the window. With the instruction from the Don himself.

“So you’re gonna lay down?” You asked.

“You expect me to stand for hours?”

“No, but I thought I told you to sit on a chair.”

“It wouldn’t look as good.”

You roll your eyes, “I guess beggars cannot choose.”

He grinned as he dismissed his men, “I would take my clothes off if you wish to paint nude—”

You quickly clear your throat, loud enough until it sounds very constrained. Even though his men keep a straight face, you know they heard him. You glare at him, and he just chuckles in return.

“Shall we begin? You can lay down now.” You told him as you squeezed out the paint, “Make sure everything’s comfortable enough for you.”

“I’ll be more comfortable if you lay beside me.”

“Giorno.” You called him with a frown, which only made him smirk. He doesn’t speak much as he gets on the sofa, and leans comfortably against the armrest. You pick up the medium-sized brush and dip into the green color. You glance toward him, and begin to sketch on the white canvas.

“Hold on.” He said as he unbuttoned his vest, and slid them off his shoulders. You see him throw the black garment away carelessly, before he loosen up a few buttons of his shirt.

“Dio mio, Gio.” You uttered as you put down your palette. “Can’t you at least not throw it to the floor? It’s gonna get dirty.”

“It’s gonna be laundered anyway.” He replied while he rolled his sleeves, and you just scowled as you picked it up.

“Stronzo.” You mumbled as you dusted off the vest, and went back to your place. You drape the thing onto your chair, before you pick up where you left off.

The green color quickly spreads on the canvas as you map out the scene. You use the blue to sketch out the window, and the soft yellow for the sofa. Your eyes dart to him while you paint, and you hate to admit that he made the right choice to get rid of the vest. He fits perfectly into the picture.

You wonder if you ever see him as relaxed as this before. Although you knew him close enough, he still used his refined manner around you. As you draw the black line, you wonder where his attitude goes.

The brush is quickly switched with a bigger one, and you mix some dye until it resembles the color of the wall. You paint most of the canvas with the new color, and add the shadows and light. You look out the window, and find the sky’s clear. You’re gonna need a lot of blues.

As you work on the details, your eyes inadvertently fall on him. He’s also looking at you, with his cheek resting on his palm.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Like that… like you’re gonna…” You pressed your lips tightly before you shook your head, “Nevermind.”

You turn your gaze away as you focus on your work. The shadows are roughly placed, and you move on to the greenery.

“You know,” He began to speak as you painted, “I’ve had my portrait done a few times before, but you’re the first one who insists on doing it in my garden.”

“Why? You missed your office already?” You sneered.

“No, but I do miss my whiskey.”

Your brows furrowed, “You don’t drink liquor.”

“I don’t drink when I’m working.”

“Huh.” You replied nonchalantly, “Of course, this is just a picnic for you."

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t consider this as a picnic, there’s no wine and cheese platter for us.”

“Us?” You narrowed your eyes, “This isn’t a date, Gio.”

“I know.” He stated, “It’s just a proposal.”

You feel your blood rushes to your face, and you turn away from him. You can’t think of anything as the reply, so you settle with silence. It didn’t surprise you when he openly flirts with you, and you usually just shrug it off. But this time, you can’t ignore him at all, not when he sounds so serious.

The window on the canvas slowly takes shapes, and provides a good background for the plants. You spend the next hour perfecting the tall foliage, without sparing another glance at him. But you don’t have to look to know that his eyes are glued on you.

As you finish the basic lines of the potted plants, you proceed to draw the long sofa. You keep your head down as you blend the faded cream color, and put them on top of the yellow.

“I think I’ll be working on the background detail now,” You announced without taking your eyes off the canvas, “You can take a break Gio, feel free if you want to leave.”

“I’ll stay.”

You bit your lip, he’s going to be a hell of distraction.

Humans can acknowledge if something’s watching them, and you curse your ancestor for passing down that ability. Even when you try to ignore it, it keeps screaming at the back of your head. Because not only does he keep his eyes on you, the intensity of his gaze also sets your alarm off.

He never looked at you like this before, right? Or have you been ignoring the signs? His friends always teased you, saying that you wouldn't be a great detective. But you're never good at reading someone's thoughts, let alone his mind. God knows what's going on inside his head.

If someone matches up the painter's apathy against the Don's preservation, it's gonna take a long time to know who's the winner. But this time, the answer seems to be clearer. And when your eyes met, you realized how terrifying his stubbornness can be.

"Gio," You mused, "Don't look at me like that…"

His lips spread into a half smile, "Like what?"

You grip your brush tightly, you don't have the courage to speak up your mind. It would be silly to ask the most feared Don about what he wants, because he has been declaring it loud and clear.

"(Y/N)." He called you softly, but as tenderly as it was, he still made your heart race, "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"I don't know." You looked away, "I just… don't want to get the wrong idea."

His smile grew wider, until the lines around his lips became prominent, "Come here, (Y/N)." He stretches his hand toward you, "I'll let you find out."

There's no need to confirm your suspicion, because the words he just said is a confession itself. You look at him and realize that he doesn't hide his infatuation. And you know better than approaching him without thinking. Because if you do that, it can only mean you reciprocate his feelings.

But do you love him? You asked. Despite the path that he chose, and the fact that you'd be plagued by constant worry about his safety. Will you still love him? Even when you know the misfortune will follow the two of you to the end?

Yes. Yes you would.

You gently put down your palette, and wipe your hands on your handkerchief. You've been repressing your own feelings for so long, but you won't hide anymore. Once you make it to his side, he'll know that you love him. There's no turning back.

He sits on the edge of the sofa by the time you walk to his side. When you stop right in front of him, he reaches for your hand and pulls you closer.

"Won't you regret it?" You muttered while he wrapped his arms around you, "I'm just a mere painter."

"And yet,” He tugs your hands and kisses them tenderly, “You could bring me to my knees.”

You blushed when he placed another kiss on your wrist, “Giorno—”

His head perks up, and you reach out to cup his face. He doesn’t resist when you lean forward, bringing your face closer to him. For a moment, you wonder why the thought of kissing him never crossed your mind before. He looks so… inviting.

He puts his hands on your waist as you press your lips against him. You taste his hunger on your tongue, and he guides your hand to his shoulder. You utter a small squeak when he hooks his arm around you and brings you down to the sofa.

The soft cushion puffs out under the sudden weight of your body. You need a second to process what had just happened, before you see him leaning over you.

Before you had the chance to speak, he already kissed you again. You squeeze your eyes shut as you circle your arms around his neck. Having him so close to you makes you realize how many details you missed out about him. The subtle scent of his shirt, the softness of his hair, the warmth of his skin.

Maybe you’re overwhelmed by love, even adoration. But you swear when you look at him, he never looks as magnificent as he is now.

—

The chatter and the occasional clink of glass fill the room as you walk past the visitors. The exhibition is bustling with people, and the champagne flows endlessly. There’s a few acquaintances around, but you only greet them without a small talk.

Giorno promised you he’ll come, even though you’re strongly against it. You’re worried about him making an appearance in public, but he assured you it’s alright.

This might be the first time you’re feeling nervous in the exhibition. Not because of the display of your art, but rather the incoming arrival of your muse.

When you reach the section of your paintings, your tension drops as you see familiar faces. His friends are coming, and you know Giorno is safe when they’re around.

Bruno is the first to notice your presence, and he smiles as you walk closer.

“Ciao, (Y/N).” He lifts his glass of champagne, and you return the gesture.

“Ciao.” You grinned, “Glad you made it here.”

“I would never miss it, (Y/N).”

The rest of the crew greet you, as they give a short praise for your paintings. But not without commenting about the portrayal of their Don.

“What did you do to him? He doesn’t look scary at all.” Said Narancia, “I swear, he looks more terrifying than usual. I could never get used to seeing him like that.”

“That’s because he only smiles when you mess up something, Narancia.”

“I never thought I’d get to see him without his suit on. I mean, he looks like the kind of man who sleeps in two-piece.” Mista jested.

“Now you mention it,” Abbacchio chipped in, “Why did he agree to be your model?”

You shyly answer, “He’s the one who suggested it.”

“What?” Bruno stares at you wide-eyed, “He asked you to paint him?”

“Sort of.”

Abbacchio strokes his chin slowly, while keeping his eyes on you. “That explains the lack of formal clothes.” He sneered, “So, did he finally succeed?”

“Succeed on what?” You furrowed your brows.

He only sips his champagne as he looks past behind you. The others seem to do the same, and curiosity makes you turn your head.

To say that you didn't expect him to dress up to the nines for the event was half a lie. You know he loves to flaunt, but seeing him like this almost makes you drop your glass. Because not only does he catch everyone's eyes, he doesn't hide his magnetic charm at all.

"Amore." He tugs you close by your waist, and places a peck on your shoulder, then your lips. "Sorry I'm late."

"Gio." You hissed, "I told you—"

"Dio mio!" Narancia gasped as he pointed at the blond, "Did you just kiss her?"

Fugo grabs his head and pulls him away from the group, "Come on now, don't bother them."

The youngest member protested, but he couldn't get away and got dragged further. The rest of the crew just watch them leaving, before they shift their attention to you.

Mista is the first one who speaks, pointing out the obvious, "The two of you are dating?"

"Well," You instinctively rub the back of your neck, "Yeah."

Your lover leans closer to whisper to you, "You don't sound so sure."

"Sorry." You squeeze his hand. "I just don't know how to tell the news to you guys."

"But why?" Bruno's eyes crinkled as he smiles in amusement, "We've been waiting for this moment." His statement made Giorno chuckle, before he pressed a kiss on your crown.

"I miss the time when he didn't care about girls." The silver haired man groans when Bruno kicks on his ankle, "What was that for?" He grunted.

"Aren't you happy that they're finally together?" Mista playfully asked as he circled his arm around his neck, "You used to complain about them all the time."

You raise your brows, but the older man just shoves him away. Mista laughs when he receives the death glare from him.

"Now, now." Giorno spoke up at once, interrupting the early stages of their usual bickering, "If you'd excuse me, I have to go on a date with (Y/N)." He encloses your shoulders with his arm, "She promised to give me a tour around the exhibition."

Bruno gives him a small nod, "Sure," He then adds, "Have fun, you two."

You wish them a good night before Giorno drags you away almost immediately. The drink on your hand almost spilled out as you tried to follow his pace. After walking through the third of the gallery, he stops at the empty corner.

It doesn't take long before he pushes you to the closest wall, and starts kissing you like a hungry man. You voice your protests, but they only get squashed down by his lips. You don't know which, or whose paintings are being displayed beside you, but you hope you won't disturb them by accident.

The two of you finally part to catch a breath, and you just realize that two people just scurry away when they see you. A pang of embarrassment struck you as you're suddenly aware that you got caught making out with him—your own model—on the day of your works' exhibition.

"Didn't I tell you to be patient?"

You put a frown on your face when he softly chuckles. He doesn't seem to mind his manner, which effectively fuels your guilty desire further.

"I've waited for long enough." He expressed with a coy smile, "Don't you think I deserve fair compensation?"

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

The Scent of You: Nero x Male Reader

MINORS DNI: THIS IS FOR 18+ ONLY (ngl I don't know if this stuff is allowed here, but I think it is lmao)

SUMMARY: Nero has been on a job for almost a month. When he returns to your shared home, he decides to relax and take a hot shower. While doing so, he gets really horny and tries to control himself. However, your scent is driving him up the wall with need. 🌟🌟🌟 🌟🌟🌟 🌟🌟🌟 Wrote this to try and get a better feel for what I want Nero to be like; kinda what I did with Vergil ngl. ... I didn’t realize it till typing this, I am legit doing the same thing I did for Vergil for Nero because I had the same issue--wtf lmaooo 🌟🌟🌟 I also was having a hard time describing certain locations on the body; so there are some “real” names for muscles and whatnot; sorry if that throws you off a bit lmao. 🌟🌟🌟 Semi-mindless smut. Minor fluff. Very minor description of masturbation (Nero). Pre-established relationship; implied marriage. First time Devil Trigger sex; mentions of blood (which Nero gets aroused by) and knotting Male Bottom Sub. Reader x Top Dom. Nero (side note: Nero does use his teeth on your dick; I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I wanted to write it in idk). 🌟🌟🌟

     The van ride from the DMC to Nero’s was abnormally quiet. The only noise was the van's engine and the faint humming that Nico made to the tunes on the stereo. That being said, a nuke could've gone off and Nero, who was sitting in his usual spot on the passenger seat, wouldn't have noticed. The teal demon had zoned out a long time ago. He was looking out the window, watching the buildings pass as they got further toward the outside edge of Red Grave. 

     It had been one hell of a month for the youngest descendant of Sparda. Between having to work alongside the rest of the Sparda line and the contract being a bigger pain than they were informed; he was beyond exhausted. All Nero wanted to do was take a hot shower, eat something, and cuddle into you. 

     He groaned in irritation; God did he miss you. All that he could think about the past week or so was how much he yearned to hold you in a tight loving hug. Feeling your heartbeat against his chest, running his fingers through your hair, kissing your sweet face and lips--there are no words to even describe how much the young devil hunter craved you.

     “Welp, here we are,” Nico spoke and gestured to the house in front of the van; breaking Nero from his thoughts, “Don’t forget any of your shit now, alright?” 

     Nero scoffed and rolled his eyes, “You’re never going to let that go are you?”

     “Not a chance,”

     He got up from the passenger seat, “Figures--” with a smooth motion he grabbed Red Queen and his duffle bag of gear from the couch, “Thanks for the ride, asshole.”

     “Anytime, dickhead!” Nico waved a short goodbye as Nero departed from the van onto the asphalt. 

     He watched the van drive off for a moment; attempting to gather himself. Nero hadn’t told you he was coming home and wanted to surprise you-- hopefully, you won’t stab him thinking he is an intruder (again). With a springing giddiness to his walk, he went up to the front door. It took him a moment of rummaging in his pockets for him to find his keys. 

     Upon finding them, he unlocked the doorknob and deadbolt as quietly as he could. Once inside, he slowly shut the door behind him. Nero focused for a moment, trying to place where you were in the house; he found out you were in the kitchen through your heartbeat. Discarding his bag on the floor and leaning Red Queen up against the wall, he crept toward your location. You were turned away from him doing something on the counter, not paying any attention to the stalking paces of the sly hunter. 

     “Miss me, baby?” a set of muscular arms wrapped around your torso making you jolt forward and knock your head backward into Nero’s jaw.

     “Jesus-!” you shouted as your heart raced.

     Nero chuckled as he kissed the top of your head, “Not quite, but, at least you didn’t stab me this time.”

     “No,” you looked down at the cutting board on the counter in front of you, “I just stabbed myself instead.”

     “What.”

     Nero removed his arms from your waist. You casually walked over to the sink to rinse your newly formed cut on your hand’s purlicue. Blood didn’t bother you much since Nero’s constantly covered in it, however, the placement of this particular cut is going to be a bitch to heal. 

     Nero re-wrapped himself around your waist and pouted, “Sorry.”

     With a grin and shake of your head, you turned off the water. Feeling how warm he was, you couldn’t help but lean back into your teal devil, “It’s fine, Nero… I’m glad you’re home.” 

     Nero grabbed the cut hand and gently placed a kiss on the small wound, “There, good as new.”

     A loud snort of a snicker came from your nose, “Oh my god, Nero,” you wiggled in his arms to turn and face him, “you are a dork.”

     He winked and smiled, “and I’m yours forever.”

     With an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you gently kissed his cheek, “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

     “Nope, sorry. That title’s mine,” he placed tender kisses on your neck.

     The feeling of his warm lips against you sent a shiver up your spine. You placed one of your hands in his hair and ruffled it a bit. Nero’s kisses stopped and turned into nuzzling as you continued your motion; the teal demon practically melted into you. 

     Your face turned to a scrunch and you removed your hand. His hair was full of dried blood. 

     “Nero--” you looked down at him, who was now staring at you with the most puppy-dog-eyed stare you’ve ever seen, “Don’t give me that look…”

     He stuck out his lip in a pout and made a fake sniffling sound, “Why’d you stop?”

     “You’re full of blood and stuff,” you gently took your hand and placed it on his cheek, thumbing over his soft skin, “You need a bath.”

     With a sigh, he stopped pouting, “Care to join me~?”

     “I would but,” you looked over to the stove, “the soup won’t cook itself.”

     Nero stood back upright with the energy of a small child, “You’re makin’ soup?!”

     “Yeah…” you laughed at his excitement, “You told me last week that you were coming home so I bought the stuff for it… It was gonna go bad if I waited any longer so,” you shrugged, “I made soup.”

     “God, I love you,” He kissed your forehead, “You need any help?”

     With a shake of your head, you responded, “Nope; just for you to wash up before dinner--please?”

     “Sure thing babe,” with a large over-the-top kiss (and a 'mwah' sound to go with it), he trotted off. 

     Shaking your head with a smile, you continued your cooking.

     The young hunter went and retrieved his bag and Red Queen from the entryway. Then waltz over to the bedroom. He tossed the bag off to the side and set his sword against one of the walls; leaving them to deal with later. Mindlessly, Nero grabbed some clothes and a towel. 

     He sauntered into the bathroom and stripped himself bare--removing his Overture devil breaker as well. With the flip of a switch, he turned on the bathroom fan and moved to turn on the shower. Since his body was aching, Nero decided to turn the knob as hot as he could; creating an almost sauna-like feel to the bathroom.

     A sigh of relief left his lips as he stepped into and under the scorching water. Nero began to purr in comfort as he felt the stress and strain of the past month leave his body. He reached for some body wash--not paying much attention to his actions. It wasn’t until he began to lather his body that he realized that it wasn’t his body wash; it was yours. 

     “Shit,” Nero mumbled to himself. 

     It’s not that the young hunter disliked the smell of your wash; he loves it and that’s the problem. A strained growl emanated from his throat. The smell of you drives Nero insane normally; however, due to the past month of being around his family constantly, Nero was beyond pent-up. Typically he wouldn’t have had any problems asking for some physical affection, but he didn’t want to seem rude for being home less than an hour and already asking for sex. So, the young man decided to take care of it himself.

     Nero bit down on his lip as he slowly began to stroke himself. He leaned forward, placing a flat hand against a tile wall of the shower. Admittedly, his demon was screaming to go get you and claim you; which only made him bite down harder on his lip. Blood trickled down his chin as he began to move his hand faster; fantasizing about what he would do if you were there with him. How good it would feel to ram you against the wall. The sound of your strained moans while he choked you. His hand would be around your cock as you trembled beneath him; only allowing you to cum when he said so. Nero’s pace became ragged. His fingers pressed against the wall hard enough they were turning white. He imagined telling you how much of a good boy you were being. The sound of your voice as you begged to be allowed to cum. That thought broke him. A loud guttural groan slipped past Nero’s (still-bleeding) lips as he came. 

     Slowly coming back down from his high, Nero finished showering; this time paying close attention to what wash he was using. Trying to ignore the still very lustful thoughts that lingered at the edges of his mind.

===

     It had nearly been forty-five minutes since Nero went to shower; a part of you was beginning to worry that he fell asleep while bathing. Since all the soup had left to do was simmer, you decided to leave the kitchen to find out if he was okay.

     First, you checked the bathroom. It was muggy and the showerhead still had water dripping from it. Nero’s devil breaker was still resting on the countertop, which made you raise a brow in confusion; however, he wasn’t in there. So you moved on to the bedroom.

     What you came upon was quite a sight. 

     On the bed, Nero was facing upwards. His legs were lazily hung over the edge of the bed that was facing you. Around his hips was a towel that had been thrown on as an afterthought; seeing as it was barely covering anything besides his dick. You bit your lip slightly at the sight. Despite seeing your lover naked a thousand times, it still managed to give you butterflies. 

     Nero hadn’t moved to acknowledge that you were in the doorway, so you decided to get a closer look. In the past, he had taken some unintentional cat naps after a hot shower; so you figured that’s what happened.

     You peered over his body. His eyes snapped to you; both his eyes were glowing his goldenrod coloration from his triggered form. In an instant, Nero had pulled you onto the bed and had you pinned beneath him. The towel had been discarded and it took everything in your body to not look downwards; not wanting to break eye contact. One of his hands held both of your wrists above your head while the other gently ran up your middle. A faint growling caught your attention as you tilted your head slightly. 

     He leaned into your neck and lightly kissed along your jugular. A shiver ran through your body, Nero’s breath was hot and the growling had only grown louder. Although this would have typically been super hot, the fact that he hadn’t said anything was a bit odd.

     “Nero--?” your voice was laced with an aroused, yet, confused tone. 

     His kisses stopped and he stilled for a moment. He moved up to your face and placed his cheek against yours; which you noted was scorching. Along with that, he also pressed the rest of his body into you. You felt his stiff cock grind against the ever-growing tent in your pants.

     “I’m sorry but,” Nero’s voice was needy as he gently bit your earlobe, “I need you, please .”

     Another shiver ran through your body, “I- I have to turn off the stove f-first.”

     Nero sat back upward narrowing his eyes and placed a hand on your chest, “Stay,” with that, Nero got up and left the room (presumably to turn off the stove for you.).

     This gave you a brief moment to think, “ Nero doesn’t usually growl like that… I wonder if-- ” your thoughts were cut short.

     A set of bioluminescent blue wings moved you to the center of the mattress. Not wasting any time, Nero was back on top and straddling you. His lips were immediately intertwined with yours. A hot tongue was forced within the confines of your mouth, desperately exploring every corner. He used his wings to pin your wrists out to your sides as he used his hands to strip you of your clothing; not caring that he was ripping them from your body. 

     Once you were barren of your clothing, Nero broke off the kiss and leaned back upwards--and let go of your wrists. You were panting heavily and awaited his next move. 

     His eyes fluttered all over your body as barely-there fingertips ghosted down your body, only to stop before reaching your aching flesh, “God,” he leaned back down and whispered against your shoulder, “you’re gorgeous.”

     Nero bit down on your shoulder and gripped your middle. Your body arched upwards as you grabbed a hand full of his slate-grey hair, pulling slightly. His growling intensified as did his bite. 

     “Fuck-” you pulled Nero off of you a bit, “Nero that hurt.”. He looked up at you with an intense stare you hadn’t seen before. Seeing the slightly red tint to his lips made you realize that he had actually bitten you, “Nero?”

     His lips parted slightly as he continued to stare into your eyes and, after a moment, he spoke, “Sorry.”

     His grip loosened on your body slightly and he placed a gentle peck on your new bite mark. Admittedly this had happened before but it had only happened when he was cumming.

     Squashing down your questions and concerns (blaming it on your long separation), you whispered, "It's okay," following that with a gentle kiss on his neck. Knowing that Nero tends to dwell on accidentally hurting you when sleeping together, you decided to move things forward by leaning upwards. 

     However, he used his wings to pin your wrists down once again as his hands pushed you back down into the plush bedding, "What do you think you're doing?" his voice was low and husky; just oozing with dominance. 

     A slight confusion settled in your mind, seeing as Nero had never stopped you from moving to give him head. You decided that he was just adding to the foreplay, "I wanted to have a taste of you~"

     He ran his tongue along your neckline, "I didn't tell you that I wanted you to move, in fact," Nero sat upward, "I want you right where you are…" he firmly grabbed your external obliques, leaving his hands temptingly close to your hips. 

     You swallowed hard. Seeing Nero taking such an intense approach to things after not being together for so long made your body ache and your cock twitch--which he noticed.

     With a devilish smirk, Nero slowly began to kiss down your middle. Stopping every few to give you a hickey or bite mark; taking extra care to make sure he wasn’t being too rough. You squirmed under his firm grasp of wings and hands. It was uncommon for Nero to go down on you; typically, Nero enjoyed frotting against you instead. Seems he really wants to step out of the norm today. 

     A bite against your inner thigh pulled you from your thoughts. A loud sharp moan escaped your lips as you, unintentionally, bucked your hips upward. Nero growled at your movement and placed his hands harshly down on your hips, keeping them pinned down. 

     "Nero," you whimpered, desperately wanting to touch him and yourself. 

     His golden eyes met with yours, "Be a good boy or I stop--got it?" Wanting him to continue, you nodded frantically, making him smirk, "Good."

     Tepid kisses ran up your inner thighs. Before he reached your balls, he would stop and place a hickey on the sensitive flesh; creating matching marks on each side. Nero looked up at you; his stare was different. A strange semi-nervous feeling began to pool in your stomach at the predatory gaze of your lover. 

     The young man placed kisses along your balls and up to the tip of your dick, giving your slit a small kitten lick. Nero’s lips were broiling hot against your skin, which only added to the effects of the uncommon action. You bit your lip and let out a strangled groan; resisting the urge to buck your hips again. Nero seemed to notice your restraint and rewarded you with a long drawn-out kiss to the underside of your cock head. 

     He smirked as he watched your internal struggle to stay composed. His tongue ran along the slit of your tip; cleaning the small amount of pre-cum there was. 

     “You taste good,” he whispered as he ran his tongue up the side of your shaft. You whimpered as he continued his teasing; never quite putting his lips around you.

     “Nero,” your voice was whiney and laced with need. He looked up at you and gave you a small ‘hm?’ as he continued his ministrations along your cock, “please--” you gasped as you felt his teeth carefully and gently nibble along the side of your dick, “f-fuck--”

     He stopped for a moment; debating what he wanted to do. A part of him wanted to keep teasing your sensitive flesh and the other wanted to hear you cry out for him. Seeing the desperation in your eyes as you stared down at him made him shudder. 

     Slowly, Nero placed his lips around the tip of your dick and inched his way down to the base of your dick; gagging slightly as it hit the back of his throat. 

     You threw your head back, “Fuck- Nero--”

     His growling intensified upon hearing your voice. Nero pulled his head back up and removed his lips, “I want you to look at me,” his eyes met with yours as he bobbed slowly up and down your dick.

     All the while, the grip his wings had on your wrists let go and he allowed you to grab his hair. Using his blue-feathery extensions, he reached over to the side table and grabbed a bottle of lube from the drawer--dropping it near your hips for later. He then took his wings and used them to push your hips into the bed, replacing his hands. As he continued to slow down and speed up on your cock, he took his hands and gently groped at the under and inner sides of your thighs. 

     Nero’s eyes stayed locked with yours as he pulled his lips off of your dick and bite down over one of the already-there hickeys on your thighs. Then gave the tip of your dick a few more licks and then circled the tip, all the while you were praising and moaning your lover’s name. 

     “Nero, please-- fuck, I-- ugh,” your hands pulled harder on his hair as he took your dick and placed it against his cheek, his breath grazing your aching flesh.

     A shiver ran up your spine as you stared into his eyes; the primal feeling held in his stare only increased with each of your words and sounds. Once again his mouth took your dick in; this time, however, he kept a faster pace. One of his hands moved to the base of your shaft, adding small strokes alongside the movements of his mouth. 

     You felt your peak coming on, which Nero seemed to notice too. He moved his hand from your dick to your balls, massaging them slightly. The tip of your dick hit the back of his throat again; as he made sure to take in as much of you as he could. With a loud groan of Nero’s name, you came into his mouth. He made sure to savor every drop, still staring you in the eyes. 

     You expected Nero to pause a minute before continuing, as you normally would; however, before you had even come back down from your euphoria, he was back up on top of you--kissing you wildly. There was a fire in his lip's motions as he felt you grope at every inch of his body; enjoying being able to finally touch your teal demon. A small moan left Nero’s lips as you kneaded into his chest.

     After a minute or two, Nero stopped kissing you and moved out of his straddling position, “Turn over.” the growling had now become interlaced with his voice; reminding you of his devil trigger.

     “You’re quite dominating today…” you flipped over, “it’s pretty hot.”

     You could practically feel him smirk at your comment, but he said nothing; only pushing a lubed-up finger inside of your ass.

     He leaned down and began to kiss along your shoulder as he mumbled, “You’re tight; although you seem to have prepped for me-?”

     A small smile tugged at your lips, “I cleaned up before coming to find you; figured you were going to-- ah~”

     Nero bit down on your shoulder and began to leave yet another loving mark, “What a good boy.”

     You moved your head to allow him to bite your neck; which he moved to do right away. He pushed another finger into your hole. Nero was dying to fuck you and was steadily growing impatient with things. 

     However, he knew that he had to take it slower than normal; since you were much tighter with him being gone so long. So he had to control himself, which did by continuing to bite along your shoulders, neck, and back.

     After another few minutes, he slid a third digit inside you. At this point, you were as desperate as he was, “Nero I can take it,”

     The twisting of his fingers stopped as did his kisses, but he didn’t move, “Beg.”

     Your heart skipped a beat, “What?”

     His voice was husky against your ear, the growling only getting worse with each passing moment, “Beg for me.”

     Nero had never asked for you to beg before and you took a long shaky breath before mumbling, “Please, Nero.”

     “I didn’t quite catch that,” one of his wings yanked your head back allowing him even more access to your neck, “louder. ” he harshly bit down on your neck; much harder than before.

     “Fuck!” you jerked your body from the unexpected sharp stinging of his teeth, “Please, Nero-- I need you inside me!”

     He licked the fresh wound he created in your neck, “Good boy.”

     You let out a whimper as you felt Nero remove his fingers. However before you got too lonely, you felt his hands on your hips. Nero took a deep breath as he lined himself with your needy hole; teasing you slightly.

     “Please Nero, please, ” you slightly rolled your hips against him, encouraging him to continue.

     His lip twitched upwards as he let out a dark snarl. Suddenly, he slammed himself inside of your body; not allowing you to take him slowly.

     “Fuck!” your body jolted forward from the force of his thrust as your hands violently grasped at the bedding beneath you. Tears had sprung up to the edges of your eyes as you tried to steady yourself by breathing slowly.

     Seeing movement out of the corner of your eyes, you looked over to one side. Nero had braced himself with his palms on the mattress. Which was fine; however, your breath hitched upon seeing the ever-growing blue and iron-grey scales crawling up his arms. 

     “Nero-” you squirmed a bit, “I want to see you--please?” your voice was soft in hopes he would listen to you.

     Which he did. He pulled himself out of you and flipped you over. This allowed you to get a better idea of what was going on. 

     Nero’s breathing had become quite labored. His brow was furrowed slightly and his eyes were still golden; however, his pupils had dilated heavily--something that you had never seen before--and was avoiding looking you in the eyes. Long hair covered his face and was sprawling down his back. And although his forearms were covered in scales, the rest of him was still quite human. A twitch of his lip revealed a much sharper set of teeth than normal. You could see the internal conflict he was having over this.

     “Hey,” you placed a hand on his cheek, which he leaned into, “It’s okay. I can take it.”

     His eyes met with yours, his voice barely audible, “What if I hurt you…”

     With a warm soft smile, you gently caressed him with your thumb, “You won’t, Nero. I promise. You can let go.”

     In reality, you had no idea if you were going to be fine. Nero had already bitten you hard enough to make you bleed, twice, and he tended to kiss along very vulnerable parts of your body. Over all the years you have been with the teal devil, he had never triggered during sex nor had either of you broached the subject before. 

     Nero allowed himself to let go as you continued to hold the side of his face; watching the metamorphosis before you. A new poking caught your attention as you looked down towards your hips. His cock grew several inches and became thicker; which, in hindsight, you should’ve thought about before agreeing.

     Without wasting another moment, Nero animalistically shoved himself back inside you.

     With a sharp gasp, you sputtered in response, “f-fuck, f-fuck, s-shit,” your head hit the bed as you continued your strand of ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’.

     He placed his hands around your hips and pulled his cock out; barely leaving the tip inside. Only to slam into you twice as hard; not allowing you to slowly adjust to the large cock inside you.

     The teal demon’s pace was brutal. You were going to stroke yourself; however, the bucking of his hips against your prostate negated the need for that. He used his wings to brace behind your shoulders and pulled you up to him. His kisses were scorching and filled with an unyielding lust. You had tried to break from his kiss, only to be brought right back with a growl to accompany it. 

     When Nero finally did decide to let you out of the kiss, he noticed that he had nicked your chin with one of his spikes. With a swift motion, your lover lapped up the blood that had trickled from the wound; which aroused you, much to your confusion and concern.

     However, your thoughts were silenced as he pushed you into the bed with a choke. His hand gripped around your neck; making sure to keep it at a comfortable squeeze--the last thing he wants is for you to pass out. 

     You moaned loudly, arching your back as his wings gripped your legs and pulled them upwards; holding them above the ridges of his shoulders. The other hand slowly raked up your torso, leaving light claw marks up your middle. He brought his claws up to his lips and licked your blood clean off of them. If you had been able to think, you would’ve been afraid of how much Nero seemed to enjoy tasting your blood. 

     His once hard languid motions became hard uneven motions. You knew that meant he was getting close, you were too. He moved your legs back down, so he could get closer to you. The devil’s hot breath washed over your neck as you gripped the base of his horns, massaging them slightly. This rewarded you with even harder slams of his strong hips. 

     “God,” your voice was hoarse and cracked slightly, “I love you.”

     Nero nuzzled your neck in response.

     You whimpered as his thrusts became short and even harsher, “Please, I need you-- Ah~!”

     His sharp teeth bit down into your platysma muscle; making yet another deep puncture through your soft flesh. Nero’s hips aggressively ground into yours and forced something larger inside of you; making you jerk your hips and hiss in pain. 

     A few minutes passed as he kept his teeth locked into your body and his cock buried deep into you. Despite that, however, you could feel that cum had already begun to leak from your body. Your insides were twitching as you felt him pull his hips back a little but he was unable to remove himself. Whatever had been pushed into you was keeping the both of you intimately interlocked. 

     You had a tired smile on your face as you gently pet his hair and his horns. Nero had begun to purr from your soft touches. You’d hoped that maybe he would relax enough to pull himself from your body; even if you weren’t 100% sure of what was going on. 

     After another few minutes, Nero pulled back on his hips again. This time he was able to remove himself with an audible ‘pop’. Your hips quaked as you groaned from the feeling of his hot seed dripping down your overly-sensitive body. He released his bite on your body, making you shut your eyes and cuss in pain. 

     Nero had gotten up from the bed before you reopened your eyes. Attempting to get a better idea of what was going on, you tried to sit upward. However, the feeling of sharp intense pain shot up your body. So you gave up on the idea of trying to move.

     “ Maybe he went to get a towel? ” you thought to yourself, feeling a bit lonely without him. 

     You were nearly asleep by the time Nero came back into the room. 

     “Hey, baby,” Nero’s voice was soft. He walked over to the bed with a towel in hand, “I drew up a bath, stay still a minute.” his voice was quiet enough that his words came off as more of a question than a statement. Your young lover used the towel to wipe your body and ass off a bit as he sat at the corner of the bed; secretly enjoying the view of your undone body. 

     “Nero-” you propped yourself up on your elbows with a grunt. He looked up at you, his eyes were now back to his normal sea-blue eyes, “Why were we… uh… stuck together?”

     His eyes widened as a faint blush tugged at his face, “I um…” he swallowed audibly and laughed to himself, “I knotted you.”

     It was your turn to go wide-eyed and blush, “What?”

     “It’s used to--”

     “I know what it does,” you laughed and avoided his eyes, letting yourself lay back down, “just didn’t know you could do that.”

     The younger hunter grinned at you as he stood, “There’s a lot I can do with that side of me; I just worry about what those things are.”

     He moved to your side and picked you up to take you to the bathroom. You tiredly mumbled into his shoulder, “If you want, we can experiment more with your demonic side; I’m okay with it.”

     Nero smiled. He sat in the bath with you in his lap so he could help clean you off, “Sure, I-” his smile quickly faded, turning to a frown, “Did I--?” his fingers lightly brushed over the final bite that he had left, making you unintentionally wince. 

     It had turned to a dark purple, almost black coloration, and was still bleeding quite badly. Nero looked as if he was about to cry as he stared at you with a furrowed brow. You gently grabbed his hand and removed it from the bite, “I’m fine Nero. It’s not that big of--”

     “I hurt you,” Nero pursed his lips as he let out a shaky breath noticing the claw marks down your middle, “I could have killed you; you know that right? Using that form--” he pulled his hand back from yours.

     “Nero, look at me,” you used your hands to cup the sides of his face, “I wouldn’t have let you do that if I didn’t want it; besides, I trust you.”

     “But--”

     “No buts,” you gently rubbed his face with your thumbs, “We both enjoyed ourselves, right?”

     He nodded.

     “And I am still alive; aren’t I?”

     Once more, he nodded.

     “So we are both okay?”

     Nero nodded finally looking back at your face.

     “I understand your concern but… you aren’t a mindless beast, you know? ” Nero placed his hands gently over the top of yours, “I know what I signed up for and I trust you, Nero; completely and entirely,” you could hear a very faint purr coming from him.

     He took each of your hands and placed a slow soft kiss on each, “Trusting a demon, huh? Not the smartest thing to do.”

     A loving smile spread across your face, “Then consider me the happiest idiot around.”

     Nero laughed with a wide grin, “I really love you,” he sighed contently, “so fuckin’ much.”

---

Hope I did Nero justice with this and that y'all enjoyed this little story! Wasn't sure how to end this, so forgive me if it is abrupt lmao. 🌟🌟🌟 Thank you so much for reading!! :)))

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[sochawrites]

In/sane

Michael Myers x reader

part 1

part 2 <- tumblr (Ao3)

Part of Silent Love collection

Had no specific Michael in mind.

You sat at the white table in the sterile dining hall. The food in front of you was getting cold, yet you couldn't eat. Michael was scheduled for transport to state prison in a few minutes, where he was meant to be put on death row. There was nothing you could do about it, not even say a proper goodbye, all thanks to doctor Samuel Loomis.

It's almost ironic how one moment you are tending to your lover's bullet wounds from his latest spree, and the other the bullets are flying through the air in a police raid. The doctor had finally hunted Micheal down, not that it was too hard, you lived in the old Myers house after all, but he finally had proof that he lived in there with you, so he called up the whole police department to help apprehend him. And you too.

A court took place, a very short one. There the doctor convinced the jury of the need to rid the earth of the evil The shape represents, and of your own insanity, as nobody believed you could have simply loved such a monster.

The two of you were taken to the Smiths Grove Sanitarium, as Loomis believed no prison could possibly keep Myers from escaping. So he had put the two of you in the same institute, in different wards, of course, so you would never see each other again, for he felt the need to torture Michael with your absence. So close, yet so far, the doctor always laughed in Michael's stone-cold face. He made sure that Michael knew that if he tried anything, be it hurting somebody, or escaping, you would be the one to take the consequences.

So the time went on, you were in the low-security ward, and Michael was practically only allowed to exist in the confinement of his cell. And you truly never saw each other, having two different schedules so you wouldn't meet even in the only canteen the sanitarium had. That is until one day a novice nurse made a little mistake.

You had just sat down with your food when Michael entered the room with two guards behind his back, immediately locking eyes with yours. He was instructed to sit down at one of the empty tables closer to the door, but he instead made his way over to you. The younger guard was about to stop him when he himself was stopped by the older one, who knew Michael from his previous stay, and knew what kind of asshole Loomis was to his patients.

Michael sat next to you, with you slightly leaning on him, holding his cuffed hand, tears running down your cheeks, and until the guards came with his food, softly whispering how much you missed him, how much you loved him, even how you wanted the good-for-nothing doctor to hurt like you were hurting each day without Michael. But you still had to eventually say goodbye.

So now you sat at the very same spot, looking melancholically out of the window that faced the entrance the prison bus was supposed to transport Michael from, hoping to see him one last time.

You could hear some screams closing in, but you paid them no mind, fearing you could miss your chance, thinking it was some new patient on a little rampage, that happened here all the time. At least until you heard the alarm. The guard in the room unholstered his gun and went to check the corridor. Some gunshots were heard, but then it was only the angry beeping. The door then smashed open, red and white all over, a hulking bloody figure standing on the other side. Michael!

You ran up to him, wrapping your arms and legs around Michael as tightly as you could, burying your face in the crook of his neck, not minding the blood splattered everywhere. Turning around, he laid his head on yours, but patted your back, for you to know you should let go. If you two were to run away, he would much rather not use you as a human shield.

With adrenaline rushing through your veins, you let Michael go first, letting him take care of any guards and obstacles along the way, while you hid behind the corners, somehow getting through the security and onto the parking lot. He rushed to a car that was just leaving, pulling the driver out and getting behind the driving wheel himself, you running around to sit on the passengers' side.

It was a race against time, one you had possibly won, as you passed the bus on the road. You couldn't go back to Haddonfield, and this car will soon be hunted by every cop in the state. You had to hitch a different one, and then get as far as possible.

[beholdenlie]

with blood, with love (chapter one)

fandom: elden ring

characters: white mask varré x original female character

tags: NSFW (later chapters), unhealthy relationship dynamics, violence, dub con themes, uh...blood.

author's note: repost from ao3. it’s my dream that one kind soul will eventually make fanart of this because I can’t draw to save my life.

Wounded, bleeding, and lost in the swamps of Liurnia, the brave Tarnished Enreila stumbles upon the Rose Church and White Mask Varré. That’s probably not a good thing.

Enreila knew she’d made a mistake venturing into the swamps of Liurnia. No matter that the supposed guidance of grace—that damned infuriating golden light—stubbornly pointed her in their direction.

The thick fog wrapped around Enreila like a damp blanket, unrelenting in the way it obscured her vision. She couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of her face at a time, didn’t see the hulking form of a land octopus until it was much too late. The massive creature swiped at her with one heavy tentacle, cutting into her side and knocking her off her feet.

Enreila’s head struck a stray bit of rubble, most likely a remnant of an ancient ruin, fallen from the sky. Her vision blurred and nausea threatened to overtake her as she scrabbled for purchase against the mud and slimy vegetation beneath her.

The slick slide of tentacles reached Enreila’s ears and pure instinct had her reaching for the pouch of throwing knives she kept strapped to her thigh. Blinking past the sweat and putrid water dripping down her face, Enreila squared her shoulders as best she could and aimed at the creature’s face, the only part of its body not covered in a thick layer of rock-like scales.

She let a knife fly and the blade struck true, sinking into the land octopus’ eye. The creature shrieked and flailed its tentacles furiously as Enreila rolled to her feet. She wasn’t quick enough though, and a stray tentacle struck her chest. Not as hard as the one that had sliced open her side, but hard enough to knock her back a few steps, to cause the air to escape her lungs with a pained grunt.

“Damn you, beast,” Enreila gasped. She reached for another knife and then another, throwing each one with precision, striking the land octopus’ face repeatedly. Though her knives could do some damage, could perhaps kill a lesser creature with a single, well-aimed throw, Enreila wasn’t kidding herself that they could fell a full grown land octopus. But she persisted. Refused to die here in this wretched swamp. Or, if she had to die, she would, at the very least, put up a good fight.

As she was nearing the last of her throwing knives, the creature let out one last enraged shriek before—by some miracle—it scuttled away from Enreila and disappeared back into the fog.

Perhaps she had wounded it enough. Perhaps she had frightened it. Enreila didn’t want to think about the alternatives. Didn’t want to consider that something else could be lurking beyond the fog, something terrifying enough to scare a creature as fearsome as what she had just faced.

Enreila waited in silence for several breaths, clamping down on the pained groan she longed to loose from her throat. She waited long enough to ascertain that the land octopus was indeed gone, that nothing else was creeping up towards her through the fog.

All at once the adrenaline left her and Enreila dropped to her knees, clutching at her side. She hissed as she carefully prodded around her wound, throbbing painfully with every heartbeat, and her hand came away bloody. The creature’s rocky scales seemed to have cut deep. Enreila automatically reached for the healing flask she kept at her belt and let out a quiet, dismayed groan when she held it up to her face and saw that it was empty.

Of course. She’d been so preoccupied with her miserable trudge through this gods-forsaken swamp that she’d forgotten to keep an eye out for any sign of the strange, isolated merchants she’d often found dotted throughout these lands. Enreila would have laughed at her carelessness if she wasn’t in so much pain.

Rummaging through another pouch strapped to her waist, Enreila’s fingers brushed against her remaining boluses, one used for stanching blood loss and the other to help slow the spread of poison. She took both into her palm and, bracing herself, shoved the perfectly round boluses into her mouth. She cringed as the acrid taste of them seemed to sear straight through her tongue, but managed to swallow before the taste could linger any longer.

Enreila glanced down at her side. The flow of blood had slowed, but not completely. She’d need proper healing. And soon.

She gritted her teeth in frustration. Persistent as it was, the shimmering light of grace hadn’t revealed itself to her in quite some time. Not since she’d arrived in Liurnia, at least. Perhaps the golden rays had misguided her. Or perhaps she'd only mistaken the direction in which grace had pointed her. Enreila didn’t know, but she couldn’t very well sit around and wait to bleed to death.

Enreila slowly dragged herself to a standing position, head spinning with the residual pain of her wound. I must find the guidance of grace again, she thought desperately. I must.

***

Around her, the swamp slowly turned into a shade of sickly yellow.

Enreila’s brow was slicked with cold sweat, the pain radiating from her wound almost maddening in its intensity. The effects of the boluses had long since worn off and she had to practically drag herself through the mud that sucked at her now-ruined boots.

She hadn’t run into any more land octopuses, but neither had she seen any merchants, nor the gentle, shimmering light that marked a site of grace, those sacred places that served as sanctuaries for Tarnished like Enreila. If she could find such a place, she could return to the Roundtable Hold. She could request healing from Brother Coryhn. She could make the choice to never return to Liurnia again and start her quest anew.

But the yellowing of the landscape around her meant the sun was rapidly setting, a thought that sent a shiver skittering down her spine. Enreila knew what manner of creature roamed the swamps at night. Emaciated men who rode half-rotted horses and, accompanying them, the ringing of bells.

And when those bells rang, more rotted creatures emerged from the depths of the swamp, summoned to stalk and hunt and kill.

Of course, Enreila could call upon Torrent, her spectral steed. He might carry her for a while. But she highly doubted that he could guide her safely from the swamp, not when she was so weak, so close to losing consciousness. Not when she possessed no map, nor no knowledge of the area. She hadn’t thought it necessary. After all, Enreila could see the guidance of grace, couldn’t she?

Enreila would have wept if she had the energy to spare. Instead, a weak and worryingly wet laugh escaped her lips. At least she still had that. She had never wanted to cry when facing certain Death. Had promised herself, no matter what, she wouldn’t cry. She’d laugh instead. Laugh right in Death’s face.

Slowly, Enreila came to a stop, falling once again to her knees. She could barely manage to lift her head, but she did, wanting to gaze at something other than the jaundiced swamp around her before she lost consciousness.

As she tilted her head back, something snagged at her attention. There, only a short distance away, the remains of a ruin shimmered into focus. Enreila recognized the architecture almost at once, the way a steeple still stood, reaching upwards, seeming to pierce the sky.

Enreila let out a breath, wincing weakly at how such a small action made her wound twinge in protest. She blinked hard, once, and then another time, only to ensure she wasn’t hallucinating. And when she determined that the ruins were, in fact, a church, and not some figment of her imagination, she dragged herself to her feet once more.

“Only a little farther,” she muttered to herself. “Only…a little…”

Enreila fell. But she wouldn’t—no, she couldn’t—let herself drift away now. Using her arms, Enreila began to drag herself forward and slowly, impossibly, the ruined church drew closer.

“Almost…there.” Enreila didn’t know if she was saying the words out loud, or if she was only imagining them. It didn’t matter. Her arms were about to give out, but she was nearly there.

Black spots had begun to dot her vision, starting out as little pinpricks but growing at an alarming pace until they threatened to obscure her vision entirely. It was then that Enreila stopped. Not because she could no longer see, but because a figure had suddenly appeared before her, nearly two feet away from where she was desperately dragging herself through mud and water and rock.

Enreila blinked in confusion.

So bright. It was all she could manage to think in her pain-addled state. The figure before her was so bright and still, she almost thought it a statue. Or perhaps some spirit had found its way to her, so as to carry her to Death.

“Ah, my little lambkin.” The figure spoke softly, yet there was an edge to the voice that had Enreila flinching back, despite the agony the movement caused her. “Now what have you gone and done to yourself?”

Enreila opened her mouth, thinking to respond, but she could force no words from her throat. Only a soft sigh left her—a sound of utter defeat, she thought—before complete darkness finally engulfed her.

[indigolover97]

We’re Dripping In It

Chapter 2: Standing Next to You

Jungkook groaned as a light beam hit his face, he buried his face into the pillow under him and took a long whiff of the laundry detergent Taehyung liked to use. He blinked and looked around the room in confusion, not remembering being moved last night from the studio. He gazed around at the guest room in Yoongi and Taehyung’s penthouse, taking note of the empty spaces from when he used to live in this room.

He had expected Taehyung to have set up his art studio in here, like he said he would, but the room still looked as empty as when he moved out. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as the smells of food drifted through the crack in the door. He could hear movement from inside the kitchen and moved off the bed to see who was awake.

He turned the corner of the hallway and saw Yoongi hard at work at the stove. Jungkook’s unruly hair smacked him in the face as he went to sit at the breakfast counter that looked into the kitchen.

“Morning, Jungkook-ah.” Yoongi greeted, placing a hot cup of coffee in front of him.

“Thank you, hyung.” Jungkook murmured after a sip, clearing his throat from the roughness of sleep.

Yoongi shrugged, “Think nothing of it, our guest room is always open to you.”

He turned back to the stove and started setting food onto three plates when Taehyung wanders in, he drowsily places a kiss on Yoongi’s forehead before reaching for the steaming cup of tea his husband hands him.

“Do you have class today, Kookie?” Taehyung asks, his voice like gravel as he sips his steaming mug. The two of them sit on either side of Jungkook as Yoongi sets their plates of food down on the counter. They start eating as Jungkook pulls out his phone to look at his schedule.

“I just have a Math class at one o’clock, then its torture time with Hobi-hyung.”

Yoongi and Taehyung both chuckle at Jungkook’s groan of pain at the very idea of more hours in the studio with his dance mentor.

“I can drive you to class,” Taehyung offers, tossing Jungkook’s protests aside. “I have an errand to run on that side of town anyway, I won’t be able to pick you up after class but I can at least give you a ride there.”

“Thanks hyung, I appreciate it.” Jungkook murmurs, smiling widely when Taehyung simply ruffles his hair affectionately before continuing to devour his food.

Taehyung doesn’t let Jungkook leave the apartment without insisting that his sweaty pants and shirt need to be put through a wash. And that he will absolutely not be going to class smelling like a gym.

Jungkook finds himself being forced into a pair of dark blue ripped jeans and a semi-fitting white T-shirt, nothing like the black baggy clothes he usually wears. He slips the leather jacket over his shoulders as they head out the door. His clunky boots hitting the pavement with surety now that its warmth encases him.

Jungkook tries not to shrink at the double glances he gets as he makes his way across campus, Taehyung really had to take their flashiest red convertible to drop him off at the entrance. And his yell of ‘Have a good day at school, Kookie baby!’ did not help matters at all. Thankfully he wasn’t approached by anyone and Jimin wasn’t at the school to tease him, but it was one of the more embarrassing moments he’s had in a while.

As he makes his way back to the studio after class. He unconsciously begins to hum his song as he walks. Completely absorbed by going through the choreography in his head that he almost steps into a busy street, only to be yanked back by a swift hand.

“Why do I always seem to find you nearly getting in trouble, little one?” A chuckle sounds from a very familiar source.

“I seem to be a magnet for it,” Jungkook grumbles, making the man chuckle even more. “Thanks for the rescue, I don’t think even being plastered across the pavement would’ve saved me from my hyung’s wrath for being late for dance practice. So, you’ve really saved me twice today.”

“You dance?” The man quirks an eyebrow at him, slowly releasing the grip he had on Jungkook’s wrist.

Jungkook nods with a slight shrug, “It’s a fun hobby.”

“An interesting hobby, I’d say. Any good?”

“I’m not sure what would classify as good when it comes to dancing,” Jungkook says, trying to be diplomatic, but there’s a look in the mystery man’s eyes that makes him blurt out. “If you want to see for yourself, I’m performing at D-Town this Saturday at 12 o’clock. Do you know the club?”

A smirk forms on the man’s face, amusement colors his tone. “I’ve heard of it, Saturday you say.” He hums at Jungkook’s confirming nod. “I think I can make that, if you promise me a drink after your performance. I’ll give you my honest review then.”

Jungkook blushes and decides to be a bit cheeky, “I’ll agree to a drink, if I can get a name for the one buying it.”

The cheekiness seems to have paid off, the man bursts out into a delighted laughter, his dimples coming out in full force and his eyes crinkling into craters. Jungkook can’t help but smile at the man’s delight.

“You can call me Namjoon,” he answers, still smiling. “And I’ll get your name on Saturday.”

“Looking forward to it, Namjoon-ssi.” Jungkook says with a matching smile.

“Just Namjoon, little one.” He corrects before turning to walk down the street. Jungkook watches his retreating back until he completely disappears into the crowd. With a skip in his step he continues his way to the studio, more determined than ever to get the choreo perfect for Saturday night.

Jungkook spends the whole evening driving himself hard through practice and if Hobi is at all surprised by his sudden burst of energy, he doesn’t show it. He simply drives them harder to get it just right and praises them when they nail it. By the end of the night they’ve begun incorporating Jungkook actually singing the song and Hobi concludes the practice very pleased with their results.

“I believe after tomorrow you will be ready for that stage,” He tells Jungkook confidently, patting him on the shoulder as they part ways at the door.

Jungkook, after much persuading, stays with Taehyung and Yoongi again but only after stopping by his apartment for some spare clothes. He spends the whole of Friday meticulously singing his lyrics until he feels he knows them backwards and forwards. The last run of the choreo they do for the day is on the actual stage in D-Town, as Friday is their day off. Hobi takes full advantage of the empty space.

“It feels different on the stage as well,” He explains as they get themselves into formation. “You need to get a feel for it before performing to a live audience.”

Hobi is right, there is a whole different feeling to being on the stage, even if they are looking out to an empty bar and dance floor. Jungkook has never felt anything so electric as he performs, an actual mic in his hands as he sings through the dance. The sound of clapping resounds across the room as they end the practice run.

“Brava! Brava!” Taehyung yells as he runs across the dance floor. “You’re gonna kill them tomorrow, Kookie!”

Jungkook laughs as Taehyung bounds onto the stage and pulls him into a tight hug, he pretends to whine about being all sweaty as he clutches his hyung right back. He spies Yoongi walking across the dance floor with lazy steps and a gummy smile on his lips as he looks up at them.

“I look forward to seeing the real deal tomorrow night, Jungkook-ah.” He says, holding out a hand for the pair to jump down from the stage. He pats Jungkook's shoulder as they walk towards the private elevator. Jungkook waves to his dancers before following his hyungs onto it, leaning against the railing as they rise up to the penthouse.

“Go shower before dinner, Kook, you can sleep after we’ve fed you.” Taehyung snickers as he drags Jungkook out of the elevator and pushes him into the spare bathroom.

Jungkook falls into the guest bed with wet, fluffy hair and a belly full of food, feeling more amped up for tomorrow night than ever before.

Taehyung insists on dressing Jungkook himself on the big day, he bats away any of Jungkook’s feeble protests.

“I won’t hear it Kookie, you need to look banger tonight.” He says, tossing clothes down on his and Yoongi’s bed as he goes through his closet. He makes Jungkook try on various pairs of pants and shirt combos until he’s satisfied. Somehow it comes out to be a more simple outfit than he was expecting.

“You don’t need to be too flashy, your talent is what’s going to shine the brightest tonight.” Taehyung says over his shoulder as they gaze into the mirror together.

He has Jungkook in a black pair of dress pants and a black belt that cinches his small waist. The boots he wears almost disappear into the pants, but are practical for all the dancing he’s about to do. Then there’s the shirt, it’s simple and white but cut into a low V that nearly parts completely between his pecs. The short sleeves make his sleeve of tattoos on his right arm more prominent.

“Simple is better,” Taehyung states firmly, handing Jungkook some dangly earrings to put in his various piercings. “And you make simple look smoking hot.”

“Thanks hyung,” Jungkook says with a smile, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he steps out of the room.

The hours tick by so slowly that Jungkook fears he’ll tear a hole in the hardwood floors of Taehyung and Yoongi’s apartment with his pacing. It’s not until Hobi comes up to fetch him and he’s standing behind the curtain of the stage, surrounded by his dancers and hearing the sounds of the crowd, that he begins to feel calmer.

He takes a deep breath, vaguely hears Hobi give some word of encouragement and pats him on the shoulder, before it's time to go out. And the music starts. And everything fades in the background.

“Play me slow, push up on this funk and give me miracles,” Jungkook sings into the mic, staring out into the crowd on the dance floor.

Jungkook feeds off the energy of the crowd, it’s nothing and everything like they’ve practiced. Every movement is fluid and seamless. Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat as he sings and his eyes, they can’t help but meet another pair of dark ones from across the club. It doesn’t distract him, no, it fuels him through the song to have those eyes on him.

The moment where he sets down his mic for the choreography he can almost feel the look he gives the crowd ‘you see how I dance with the mic?’ he seems to say ‘now see me without it’. Then he’s off and the crowd goes absolutely wild.

“Standing next to you,” Jungkook sings after picking up the mic, ending the song with a bow to the screaming crowd. There’s a pause to take in the applause then the stage goes dark and Jungkook follows his dancers off the stage.

Taehyung nearly tackles him as he comes around the curtain, Jungkook laughs as his hyung bounces them around for a moment before helping him get loose from the wires in his ears. Hobi pats his shoulder before going to each of the dancers to give his congratulations to them. Jungkook listens to Taehyung ramble on about how well he did while he cleans off the sweat from his face, but all he can think about is the pair of dark eyes that followed him throughout the song. Yoongi pulls him aside just before he’s about to walk out into the club.

“Someone is waiting for you in the VIP section, said his name is Namjoon.” Yoongi whispers to him, his eyes glittering with something that Jungkook doesn’t understand. Yoongi gives Jungkook an approving nod, wiping the confused expression on his face.

“Thanks hyung, for everything tonight.” Jungkook breaths, pulling the older man into a quick hug before darting towards the VIP section that sits on the second story overlooking the stage and dance floor.

The bouncer at the front nods to Jungkook and opens the door for him. The glass encased room is practically empty as he steps in and the sounds of the club below are muffled when the door closes. Jungkook spots Namjoon leaning against the bar that looks down over the stage. Their eyes meet across the room and Jungkook feels himself being drawn in until he’s standing next to him.

“When you said you danced,” Namjoon greets with a sly smile as Jungkook slides into the seat. “I wasn’t quite expecting that. I’m very impressed, little one.”

“Enough to buy me that drink?” Jungkook asks with a smirk.

“Of course,” Namjoon laughs as he calls the bartender over. “And to get your name.”

“Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook.” He answers, then gives his order to the bartender and takes a sip of it before setting it down on the bar.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon says his name slowly, like he’s tasting it on his tongue. “It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“Likewise, Namjoon.” He replies with a smile, sliding his hand into Namjoon’s offered one to shake. Their hands linger for a moment before they settle into the bar booths and sip on their drinks.

“So other than dancing, what are your other ‘hobbies’ as you call them.” Namjoon asks, a slow, easy smile on his face.

Jungkook snickers, “What would you call it then?”

“Raw untapped talent.” Namjoon says at once, smiling at Jungkook’s wide eyes. “I call it like I see it and I so rarely see a talent like yours. And you said it’s your first performance?”

Jungkook nods and blushes at Namjoon’s disbelieving scoff. “It’s true, this was my first time ever being on a stage. In front of a crowd. It’s the first song I’ve ever written myself, then performed it.”

“Song writer. Singer. Dancer. Is there anything you can’t do?” Namjoon asks incredulously, probably sarcastically, but Jungkook pretends to ponder it for a moment.

“I don’t know how to fly a plane, or play the violin.” He says with wide, blinking eyes and a sly smile. Namjoon looks utterly endeared by it.

“Probably couldn’t do brain surgery either, now that I think about it.” Jungkook adds as an afterthought, making Namjoon laugh, Jungkook joins him with a low snicker.

“You are truly something else, Jungkook.” He says, gazing at him with deep adoration. “I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard in years.”

“Ah you’re welcome,” Jungkook says with a small smile, glad to have brought some joy into the man’s life.

They spend the next few hours of the night and early morning just talking. Jungkook finds Namjoon to be an interesting person to talk to. And he’s shocked to find how much they have in common regarding art and music tastes. Jungkook has never met someone that he’s so easily fallen into conversation with.

By the time closing hours have approached, they’ve gravitated to sit on one of the long couches that line the VIP room and have been debating animatedly about the benefits of synthetic grass.

“Even if it were to help the environment and water intake of the city. You are still ripping up the earth and soil to put down plastic grass that serves no purpose, beyond not consuming water.” Jungkook protests passionately as he gestures with his hands at Namjoon.

“We’re in the middle of drought, what would your solution be to lower the amount of water Seoul consumes?” Namjoon asks, leaning his head into his hand on the ledge of the couch as he looks at Jungkook.

“I would first see where the water consumption is at its greatest and find a way to limit that first. Before trying to put synthetic grass in everybody's yard.” Jungkook huffs, rolling his eyes when Namjoon laughs but is unable to keep the smile off his face for long.

“Do you have a guess as to where the most consumption would be?” Namjoon asks, his eyes crinkling like half moons as he smiles.

“If I had to give a random guess it would have to be bath houses.” Jungkook says with a nod. “Public bath houses would have to consume a ton of water for their customers. To ensure proper hygiene they would, not only, have to clean their facilities regularly but also have clean water inside the tubs. I’m sure some do a good job of recycling and filtering their water supplies but that wouldn’t account for all of them.”

Namjoon hums in agreement, “And what would your solution to that be?”

Jungkook hums in thought, “In an ideal world? A central piping system for public bath houses that filters and recycles the water across Seoul. The amount of water needed for, let’s say, a hundred bath houses is calculated. Then stored in a facility that pumps, filters, and recycles that water for all of them. Any unusable water can be transported to farms, as long as it’s been tested to be safe to return to the soil.”

“And if it isn’t?”

Jungkook waves his hand in a general direction, “We do have an ocean you know, it can return to there to be purified by natural causes. There should probably be a study on the lasting effects of adding dirty bath water to the oceans, though.”

Namjoon chuckles, bringing Jungkook out of his rambling thoughts, “Your mind is a very interesting place, little one. I’m glad I’m getting a chance to get to know it.”

Jungkook desperately wanted to counter his words with something witty or clever but a wide yawn broke across his face before any words could form on his tongue. Namjoon chuckled and ran a gentle hand through Jungkook’s ever growing dark hair.

“Tired, little one?” He smiled at Jungkook’s sleepy, happy hum of reply as his eyes fluttered closed under his hand. “Let’s get you to bed then, hmm.”

“I’m staying with hyung and Tae, they live upstairs.” Jungkook murmured sleepily, as Namjoon helped him to his feet. He must have been more tired than he thought, because Namjoon caught him around the waist before he toppled over from standing.

“I’ll take you up to them then,” Namjoon said easily and waited for Jungkook’s hum of agreement before sweeping him up into his arms.

Jungkook is barely aware of leaning his head against Namjoon’s neck. Or of the steps he takes inside the empty club towards the elevators. Or when they arrived inside Yoongi and Taehyung’s apartment. There is a gentle murmur of voices that causes him to snuggle deeper into the warmth that encases him, then he’s being moved again and feels himself being lowered onto a soft surface.

A hand brushed through his hair, Jungkook leans into the gentle touch.

“I’ll see you again soon, little one.” A gentle voice whispers above him, then he falls asleep.

[roxnpens]

Firefly

Chapter One: Rumble in the far

[Silco x f!reader] [gore] [blood][angst] (all other tags follow as the story progresses 🙃😉)

_______________

Fic Summary:

You’re a youngster of the Undercity, dreaming of a better world.

By chance you get an opportunity that will change your life.

A revolution will take place - will it change the world you live in … or will it change your destiny?

The story takes place before the occurrences in the Arcane animation. You are a young woman entering the Revolution, which should finally save the Undercity from their oppressors. However, in this revolution you will find more than revolutionaries, colleagues, friends... you will meet a man who will be your closest confidant. Your everything.

Taglist: @juniper-sunny @deny-the-issue @fantadym @mmartos @astudyincontrasts @averagecrastinator @ace-of-zaun @artwithvivien @zaunitekiwi @x-amount-verbs @chaoticlicense @silcosentropy @silcoitus

Can you hear me?

Sleeping in the shadows, could be making history

(Walk) through the fire, (walking) on the water

Used to be a slave, but now you are a conqueror

The Lanes.

Some people consider it the most filthy, disgusting place in all of Runeterra. Some people have another name for the city across the shiny, powerful metropole named Piltover.

Home.

You’re one of those people. You grew up in this dump, filled with the failures, the gamblers and the Lost. In the city where the possibilities of having a good life are as limited as the knowledge about good manners.

Like many of the kids born in the Undercity, you had a rough start into this world, your mom worked as a bartender while your father sat at the other side of the counter. Yup - your daddy dear was a drunk at this time. Whenever something didn’t go the way he wanted or you were playing too loud with your nice little red ball, he gave you a good beating. Sometimes when you’re vast asleep in your own bed, you still could feel the rough calluses from his mine worker hands. In the very beginning of your life those were the hands that cheered you up, as you fell down on your knees. The hands that had mined minerals and ores on a daily basis. The hands that protected you, while they still had work to plunge into.

When your father lost his job, your mom and you quickly became the subjects of your father's wrath. But what really broke your little world, was when your family discovered that you’re able to cast magic - “arcane magic” as some Piltover douches called it. And your father couldn’t think of something smarter, than to sell you for an extremely low price and break your mom's heart. The buyers on the other hand… well…

You had to leave the Lanes, to be observed, trained and … yeah - even tortured by those Piltover douches. You learned the hard way, that you can trust only a few people and sometimes just yourself. After 15 years of training, missions and a lot of hurt and crying, you finally made it out of there and returned to the Lanes.

By then it was much too late when you found out that your mom died soon after you left, because she drowned the loss of her daughter in booze. Your father followed soon - he died of a broken heart, they said… not that you really cared about that asshole anymore. So in the end you could never really come home… because there was no “home” anymore…

You had to learn every rule of the Undercity anew, because you’ve been away so long. Every little trick, every single Undercity manners - just everything. You kept yourself living, with little jobs - which could hide your background of a well trained killer, who lived quite a while in Piltover.

You had a hard time adjusting to your actual home again… but when you made it, you had a good name around the bar- and club scene. You took a good amount of pride in your timekeeping, accurate way of working and a little bit in your trained body.

The mud under your leather boots make a wet sound, as you walk your way through the small alleys on your way home from work. The work you lost, because the owner wanted a “favor” for keeping you in his service. A favor including your body. The blood of his broken nose dripped from your clenched fist as you walked out the bar, where you worked as a bartender. You really liked working there - the patrons were generous and polite, you got paid in time and there was always backup for the ugly situations.

But when your employer had the audacity to ask for your body in exchange for a safe working place - you kinda lost it. Damn your temper sometimes. At the same time you could feel a well known knot placing heavy strings around your heart and squeezing it painfully.

Situations like that happen all the time, when your employer is a man from the Lanes - at some point they either ask you to work for less money, cause they can’t afford to pay you the full wage or they have enough money… but they think money can buy willingness.

But you are not someone to be bought… at least not anymore…

Your black and red coat is soaked with the rain pulling in long heavy strings from the clouded sky and you’re glad to have picked the black pants made from a thicker, more water resistant material. You still have two problems pending in your head at the moment: you still have a long way home AND you need a new job, or your lunch plate for tomorrow will stay empty. You filled your lungs deep with the polluted air of the Undercity and it left your lungs in a sigh of hopelessness. You hate your situation, you hate people like your former boss and you absolutely HATE that the Lanes are never going to change…

Perhaps you should consider the offer of becoming an entrance guard in front of one of the many new night clubs.

You shook your head under the hood of your jacket. No you do many things for money,…but this might be a bad idea considering…

“Oi Lassi!”

The rather deep voice of a man shouting at you from the side of the road makes you jump out of your skin and instinctively grab the hilt of the knife that's hanging hidden on your outer left thigh. Your adrenaline already sends you into a fight-or-flight mode, you try to locate the man whom that voice belongs to. Just like the killer that you’ve been trained to be. You suggest that it could be a goon of the bar-owner you just beat the crap out of, but are surprised to see a young, broad-shouldered and good looking man. His confident, yet relaxed step tells you that he’s either very unbothered about the people staring at him or that he means no harm. Since you can’t say anything for sure, you still keep your grip on the knife, but hide the tension in your body as the man approaches. He has short brown hair and wears typical miners clothing, a torn greenish shirt and thick brown pants. His body is very defined and his t-shirt tenses over his well used bizeps. The outfit is rounded up by some worne miners boots that have a strong metal tip.

“May I ask you something?“, he asks with a smile on his face - an emotion you rarely see in the Lanes.

The situation is still surreal, so you try to answer him the best way your mind can manage, while you position yourself sideways to him, ready to swiftly strike like a viper, still in an inner fight mode and answer: “Depends…”

He laughs - a deep, reverberating laugh, which makes your chest rumble and you involuntarily step back a few steps.

After laughing he holds his muscled midsection and states: “ Damn Lassi, you really remind me of a friend.”

Your suspicious look makes him turn serious again and he rises to his full height, towering over you by a good head and a half.

“But I actually wanted to ask you, if you would want to help me and my friends build a new nation. In the meaning of separating the Undercity from under Piltover's boot - bringing every person in the Undercity a happy and meaningful life. To break free from the slave like life, that those bastards in their high palaces are imprinting on us. Thiskind of life is meant for nobody and yet they still keep doing it. That has to change! Or we and every next generation after us will still be the cockroaches under their heels. My brothers, sisters and I want to give everybody good jobs, close those damn mines and factories - which make everybody sick, cut Piltover‘s fucking strings from our back…”, his spirited speech pauses and he looks down on his shoes like what he says next, really hurts him, “… and giving the many orphans a home… a good education…”, he looks at you directly, “… a bright future. Everything that we could never get.”

Future.

That word, that idea makes your chest clench and spreads an emotion across your whole body, that you forgot you once had…

Hope.

But still you’re not really convinced. It sounded very cheesy, like one of those romantic novels, that you had to read in your childhood. But things run differently in the Undercity - everybody knows and your best guess is that that boy is just playing innocent so he can get you into something VERY unorthodox. So you set your mind straight, looking at him just from the corner of your eye and answer „Yeah… not interested.“

The man looks at you like you just shut down the power of his body. With a low voice and sad eyes he asks you: „Don’t you care about your people?“

Anger shoots into your veins like fire on a pool of dropped spirit.

You think angrily to yourself “Of course I care, numb nuts! This is my home and I hate to see people dying on the streets, because they catch death and disease in those fucking mines. But how are a bunch of kids like us gonna change ANYTHING - huh?!”

“It will work, because we’ll be many and everyone deserves it. Now don’t turn away and hear me out!”, he states and intends to grip your visible wrist. But in one fluent motion, you instead take him by the wrist, twist his arm uncomfortably and sweep his dominant leg away from under him, so that he falls onto his back. Your other hand pulls your knife from beside your thigh and moves it to the man's throat.

There you are - him lying on the ground and you sitting on his midsection - ready to end his life. You both breath heavily and since the rain cooled the surroundings a lot, your breath is visible in damp clouds.

The man looks at you - his eyes are the size of the Piltover moon and he finds his voice back first. “That...” he kept panting, since the throw pushed all the air from his lungs. “… was awesome. How… did you… do that? Where…” he wheezed and coughed for a moment. “Where did you learn that?”

Your anger did not evaporate a bit yet and you ignored his question - now you are more suspicious than before. “What made you think that you could just touch me - huh? Do you always do that with women?”, the venom in your voice could not be overheard and you press the knife harder at the man's throat. His eyes wide and he moves his hand in defensive movements.

“Hey, hey, slow the horses. I didn’t mean to harm you - really. I just… wanted you to listen to me.”, he whispers - you could hear the caution in his voice. You apply less pressure on the knife and on the man's throat. “Ok… you got me listening now. But you better don’t pull a stunt like that again.” You say in a low tone voice, finally standing up from his tummy, extending your hand to him. Without saying a word, he grabs your hand and you lift him up to his feet. He blinks over his shoulder to assess the damage you did to his shirt, but since he can only see dirt on his back, looks satisfied.

In this moment, two Enforcers cut the corner, in full gear and fully prepared for a fight. Some of them always patrol the Undercity to “uphold the peace” as they say, but everybody knows that they just come here to blow off some steam - beating up some “Undercity-rats” and leaving when their counterpart is near death bleeding on the ground. They go straight for you and the man beside you and you can feel their eyes scan you top to bottom. “Is there a problem?”, asks one of them - already grabbing the hilt of the baton on this belt. The man as well as you look unimpressed at the two Enforcers, their breath leaves their mask in a steamy cloud. You step forward and the Enforcers with the trigger finger on his baton move backward with you “Easy there, Missy.”

Missy? Really?

You lift your hands in a defensive movement and put your licor-selling little smile on. “Now, now Officers… I see no one in trouble or any problems. So…”, you put your hands down and gesture with a slight bow to the way beside you. “… you can continue your patrol throughout our beautiful Undercity.” Your smile gets even bigger and you notice a quick glance between the Enforcers. The Enforcer with the baton in ready action raises his chin high - so high that you wonder if he can still see something. “Oh yeah, what are you two rats doing here? Eating some garbage or planning on fighting the big bad cat?”, he puffs out and the two Enforcers start laughing while you and the man keep straightfaced. Their laugh makes you want to murder them cold blooded - until… you could think of something more fun.

The smile creeps back to your face. “Well we just thought of a new way to entertain ourselves like… mud wrestling - wanna give it a try, dear officers?” And with that you raise your right knee almost behind your ear and smash it with full force down the ground. The man beside you caught up with your idea the moment you had raised your knee and did the same, so that when both of your feet hit the ground the mud splashes around the both of you like a dirty firework. The enforcers stepped away from the huge splashes and after the drops settled on ground again, both of the heavy armored men started charging at the both of you. But you raised a hand - saying with your most daring of smile “Oh - was it not to your liking? My, my - my bad - seams I interpreted your looks wrong. My sincerest apologies, … officers.” One of the Enforcers already started to walk away, while the other with the hand on his baton walks in front of you, letting his body twitch short and quickly in your direction and you can barely withhold yourself from sending him to the ground. He looks pejoratively at you and the baton hits your face like a comet - but since you’ve been through worse, only a drop of blood leaves your bottom lip.“Yeah - says the rat in the dumpster. Fucking stink hole this is.” After they are gone some feet, you let a sigh of relief slip out of your mouth and your cramped body relinquishes the state of constant electricity. The man also relaxes again. “Hui - that was kinda close. Thanks for having my back.”

He turns his head back to you and repeats his question, “So where did you learn that throwing-thing?” You hesitate for a moment. Is it wise of you to say, that you’ve been trained in Piltover to keep the Lanes in check and murder eventual suspects…? ‘Hell no!’ You decide for yourself and think about a way to get around it. “I uhm….”, shit - you can’t think of a good excuse, so you go with the first best answer, that’s on top of your tongue. “I… learned it myself… you know - dad kind of beaded me up sometimes… and … I learned to defend myself. Kinda…”,

The man raised his eyebrows and turned his head a little. “You learned all that by yourself ?” Your chest clenched your heart painfully - you still had no reasonable explanation to how you nearly killed him, but he picked up the conversation again. “Then your dad must have been a real dickhead to do something to his daughter, that she learned to do the heavy shit.” He looked away again and he started pacing on the spot. He was shy about something and the way he could not say still made him look like a cute overgrown schoolboy. “You know… we definitely need someone like you. You know - teaching us how to fight properly… what else can you do by the way?”

“Well I can fight with a knife - obviously… and I’m a bartender.”, you answered casually. For reasons of self protection, you kept everything else a secret.

The man looked at you, questioning “A bartender also? Hmm, I definitely could use one more in my bar. But anyway, can I get you excited about the revolution? We definitely need more hands and unless we don’t do something, nothing's gonna change…”

You think about the offer - but, what better chance of change (or work) do you have? But that guy was right… nothing is going to change, unless you stand up and do something about it. But you also think about: if this endeavor should work, then there is a LOT to be done in advance and Piltover sure is not gonna give it all up without a good fight. You finally look at him again and ask just one honest question: “ How many are you by now?”

“Not many, but we keep recruiting.”, again a meaningful pause. “…does that mean you’re in?”

Now it’s your turn on the meaningful pause, but actually you’ve already decided. You tuck the knife away and let your hand hang loosely beside your body. You shrug and a small smirk makes it to your face.

“Well… I just fired myself from my last job for rearranging my employer's face - since he wanted my body over my work potential. Sooo I think I got some time to spare.”

The man looks a little worried and his head leans a few degrees to the side. „You’ve been asked to be a whore in exchange for work? And you punched your ex-boss in the face? Damn Lassi… are you safe? If not I have some people from the revolution who can have an eye out for you.“ „It‘s ok…“, you answer quickly, „… the offer is nice but as you may have found out for yourself, I'm pretty good at defending myself.“

His face starts lightening up like the oven of one of the Undercity factories and he smiles over his whole face.

“That’s pretty true, but can I conclude from your `I got some time to spare’ that you agreed. If you want, you can go down the road in the house to the left. It’s a bar called “The Last Drop” - that’s my bar. Tell ‘em 'Vander ' send you …”,his hyper energy stopped for a moment like he remembered something. “… oh… ehh… I‘m Vander by the way.” and holds out his hand for a handshake. You tell him your name, take his hand and add a short “Nice to meet you.”

Vanders hands are big like that of a bear - you could feel the power leaking between all those calluses on his hand, but he didn’t crush your hand - instead holding it firm and gently. It surprises you a little, but you could pay no further attention to it, because he lets go of your hand - on the run to find the next recruit for the course.

Over his shoulder he shouts “GO TO THE LAST DROP” and runs into the next alley.

You look after him… what a weird and funny guy.

Since you really had nothing to do, you walked in the direction Vander led you - right to the Last Drop. While you were walking with your head down on the dark alley - you thought about Vanders words - about the kids … about a future. When you were a kid you would have embraced the change that's now dawning. It maybe would have changed your life back then. You shake your head again, as you pull the hood of your coat back over your hair. It’s no use to you now, to think about the what ifs and what could have beens - the only thing that matters right now is the here and now. And maybe a little bit of future - yeah maybe the future… if there is one…

End of chapter 1

Lyrics from Skillet “The Resistance”

[cheesethecheesier]

The Butterflies In My Stomach

Albedo/Sucrose/Kaeya/Rosaria

Sucrose stood in the lab as her long green hair was tied into a simple ponytail that fell down her back. She had just finished up on one of her experiments and was cleaning it up. Once she was finished she had slid off her gloves and had put them in her bag.

There was a knock at the door and then the knob turned. She could tell who was there from the quiet steps of his boots. She had gazed at him and quietly greeted him as he walked in. Her heart was pounding in her ears and she could tell he was saying something from the movement of his lips, but she couldn’t focus on what the words were. 

“Um.. see you Mister Albedo!” She dashed out of the lab and into the hall, stopping to breathe.

She could barely be around, not since that night.

The night when she didn't knock on the lab door and saw Albedo kissing Kaeya. The night when her heart was broken. When she stood in the open doorway and saw Kaeya leaned over the table as he kissed Albedo. She closed the door swiftly that night. She thought they didn’t know.

Since that night, Sucrose had been struggling talking with them, or looking them in the eye.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She left the Favonius hall, left and the stone walls of Mondstat to sit and rest in the nearby valleys of green grass. She felt conflicted, one half of her was happy that Albedo was with someone that made him happy but the other half of her was upset that it wasn’t her kissing Albedo… or was she upset that she wasn’t kissing Kaeya…

Oh Albedo, how to describe him. He made her heart flutter and butterflies build up in her stomach whenever she was with him. A perfect painting that put Sucrose to shame. 

And Kaeya… he was charming, and he had definitely made her blush once or twice. But he flirts with everyone doesn’t he?

Sucrose rubbed her eyes and let herself focus on the world around her, to her right sat the cavalry captain. She yelped in surprise when she noticed him and he just smiled at her and quietly chuckled.

“It's good to see you.” He says his voice felt like honey to her ears.

“Oh… uh did you need anything?” She asks in a very quiet voice.

“No, I didn’t need anything, I just wanted to sit with you.” He smirked that devilish, handsome smirk. It made her heart beat faster.

“Oh- Okay.” She says and turns her head to look at the flowers in the field in front of her as they danced in the wind. She didn’t say anything to Kaeya and he didn’t say anything either.

After a few minutes, Sucrose stands up and brushes off her thighs.

“Are you trying to get away from me?” Kaeya asked, his voice having a hint of arrogance.

“Umm!” Sucrose’s face flushed and she covered it in embarrassment.

“Calm down, I’m just teasing.” He says as he stands up now slightly towering over her.

“Where are you headed?” He asks and smirks.

“Back to the knights.” She says, that’s a lie, she’s going back to springvale to head home but, she doesn’t want to say that.

“I’ll escort you.” He pauses. “If you let me of course.” 

“Hm… fine.” She says, her ears twitch, he offers her his hand, and she reluctantly takes it. He leads her from the fields back into Mondstat’s walls. The pair walked through Mondstat and to the Knights, Kaeya stopped at the door.

“Well, I’ll be heading to Angel’s Share, I had a wonderful time with you Sucrose.” He says and lifts her hand up to his face and gently kisses her knuckle. He walks off leaving Sucrose a confused, blushing mess.

She quickly walks into the hall and then to the lab, knocking on the door before turning the knob.

She walks in, noticing Albedo is strangely gone. She walks over to her workspace and washes her hands, then carefully puts her gloves over her hands. She quickly gets to work on understanding the elemental reactions between elemental cores and whopperflower acid.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In about an hour as she works she hears two quick knocks on the door. She puts down her materials and goes to answer the door.

Lisa was there, a small notebook in her hands.

“Oh Sucrose, I was hoping you’d be here!” She said her voice was cheery.

“Ah yes, Miss Lisa, um… What do you need?” She asks, looking at Lisa curiously.

“I noticed that you left one of your notebooks in the library and I read through it…” She says, her voice dragging.

“It turns out that you write more than just alchemic inquiries in your notes.” She chuckled and smiled at Sucrose.

“Miss Lisa! Please don’t tell him!” She says her voice sounding panicked and her face full of worry.

She laughs again, “Don’t be silly Sucrose, your secret is safe with me.” She smiles and lifts up Sucrose’s hat to ruffle her hair. Sucrose squirms away from her touch.

“Well here’s your notebook, I have a date with Jean tonight.” She says and places the notebook into Sucrose’s arms. Sucrose watched Lisa briskly walk away and went back into the lab. Placing the notebook on her work table, she takes off her gloves and washes her hands before beginning to walk home.

Unfortunately on her way it began to rain, and Sucrose had forgotten her umbrella. She took off her coat and reached to cover her head when the rain seemingly stopped. She looks around to see the thorned nun herself.

“Ah! Oh… it’s just you Rosaria. It’s good to see you.” She smiles softly, Rosaria makes a grunting noise.

“Thank you for the cover.” Sucrose says softly and puts back on her coat.

Sucrose had always found Rosaria pretty, short maroon hair, pale almost sick looking skin and the various scars that covered her skin. It was a strange kind of beautiful almost vampiric.

“Hm, no problem, I was on my way to Angel’s Share, my shift just ended.” Her voice is quiet and monotonous, and her eyes have a look of daggers.

“If… if you don’t mind can you walk me home?” Sucrose asks shyly.

“Of course.” Rosaria says, reaching to take Sucrose’s hand and she begins to walk her home. After a couple minutes of walking and minimal conversation the two eventually reach Sucrose’s home.

“Thank you Rosaria.” Sucrose says softly. Rosaria nods and walks away into the dark, rainy night.

Sucrose walks in her home and changes into a simple off white nightgown. She crawls under the covers of her bed and falls into a light sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dawn arrives and Sucrose has gotten little sleep, with the pounding of rain, the occasional crash of thunder and the chronic loneliness she felt, she got little sleep. She sighs and gets dressed. She grabs herself a quick cup of coffee and runs off to go to knight’s.

She knocks on the lab door and walks in to see Albedo working on something at his desk. She walks over to her desks and begins to work on her projects.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few hours pass, and she feels a gentle tap on her back. She sits up and looks around, looking confused.

“You're awake.” Albedo whispers softly, removing his hand from Sucrose’s back.

“What happened?” She asks, turning to look at him and his icy blue eyes.

“You had fallen asleep, I had to let you sleep, but since it’s about noon I felt I should wake you.” He says.

Sucrose laughs awkwardly, “Ah… oops.” She says softly, just hearing his voice made her heart pound.

“Sucrose, would you like to eat lunch with Rosaria, Kaeya and I?” He asks. Sucrose feels the butterflies again.

“I… sure.” She says and Albedo reaches down to gently take her hand. She blushes and follows him out of the lab.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kaeya and Rosaria were sitting at a small table in front of the Good Hunter. Albedo and Sucrose take a seat across from each other.

“So- Albedo have you asked yet?” Kaeya asks, a smirk on his face.

“No Kaeya, I was waiting until everyone was together.” Albedo says and Rosaria reaches over to take Sucrose’s hand.

“Sucrose, will you join our relationship?” Albedo asks, all three of them are looking at Sucrose. She looks surprised.

“Wait… all three of you are together?” She asks, looking incredibly confused. Kaeya laughs and smiles at Sucrose.

“Yes Sucrose, all three of us are together, and we want you to be our forth.” He says a flirtatious grin on his face. Sucrose blushes at the realization and quickly covers her face with her hands.

“Sucrose?” Rosaria checks on Sucrose in her embarrassed state.

“Yes!” She says excitedly and giddily. She moves the hands from her face to see three welcoming and loving smiles directed at her.

Honestly for Sucrose this didn’t feel real, but at least the butterflies are gone.

[twotangledsisters]

A quick reminder that fanfics shouldn't be reposted anywhere ever unless you have the express permission of the author.

You want to translate a fic? Awesome, ask!

You want to make a podfic? Amazing, ask!

But it's disrespectful to an author to take their content and repost without telling them, EVEN if you did transformative work on it.

Yes, fanfics are free, and on ao3 they are even downloadable, but they are downloadable for private use! For you to have on your kindle and read in whatever format best suits you. Not to be REPOSTED on another site!

Please, please, if you want authors to continue posting stories publically you have to respect an author's desire to maintain some level of ownership over their work.

[voltstone]

Enid: Hey We— Enid: Wednesday, what are you doing? Wednesday: I’m critiquing your stories. Enid: My… Wednesday: Word of advice, you can use the character’s names more often. There’s no need to constantly replace them with ‘the singer’ or 'the idol’. Enid: Wednesday. Where did you find these…? Wednesday: … Wednesday: You are registered to an archive as…pasteldogenjoyer. I was intrigued to see you have been working on your writing. It has gotten better. Enid: Really?!

[gauloiseblue]

Ruined Date

He should've turned on the TV this morning.

He never knew he'd ever need any information from the weather podcast.

If he had listened to the podcast, maybe you and him wouldn't be here—in the bus station—needing to take shelter from the raging storm. He scolded himself for letting you get drenched and shivering because of the strong wind. The rain itself wasn't any less cruel to both of you. The harmless drops of rain have changed its form into bullets of water against his skin, thanks to the help of the strong wind.

The date he had planned consisted of him taking you to a nice dinner, then he'll take you to a stargazing spot up above the city. There's a small spot on the cliff near this city that could offer the city view, the faraway ocean, and the starry night all in one spot. He had thought this'd be the perfect date until the first drop of rain fell on the nape of his neck when you and him were halfway through the path to the cliff.

The bus will arrive in 12 minutes, and the storm hasn't shown any sign of stopping. He had you curled in his arm, seeking warmth from his body. Even with the infamous Jotaro's coat and his strong arms wrapped on your body, you can't help but feel colder as the rain begins to soak through the fabric of his coat to your outfit.

Now you understand why everyone said the weather in Japan is really unpredictable.

The stars were visible when the two of you two finished the dinner. But when you and him arrived at the entrance of the stargazing spot, the sky had been covered by dark clouds. You had a bad feeling about it, yet you shook it off and thought maybe the clouds were only passing by. You were wrong.

The sounds of rain hitting the asphalt fill the void of the absence of Jotaro's voice. You knew he's blaming himself right now but you too took part in this--you did receive a warning from yourself, but you chose to ignore it.

You loosen up his embrace and reaching out to touch the side of his face, your voice is barely heard, but you know he had heard you,

"I'm fine.. Don't worry about me." He answers with a heavy sigh,

"It's not your fault, y'know." You stroke his cheekbone, assuring him, "we can't control the weather."

"But I could've known better to not take you to somewhere far from the city."

You snorted, cracking a small smile on your lips. To be honest, when he murmurs to you about the place he'd take you after dinner, you can't help but feel your heart swell with affection. He, Jotaro Kujo, has planned and is willing to take you to somewhere romantic had you thrown away your cautiousness. You didn't even worry about how your feet would be sore after the walk to the cliff, the mosquito bites, hell, you didn't even think about the danger of walking in the forest at night at all.

He noticed you tighten your hug around his bulky chest, repressing a giggle that bubbles in your throat.

"What's so funny?"

"No, it's just.." You suppress your incoming laughter, "I had imagined us in every possible cheesy scenario in my head, especially when we're dancing in the rain."

But not now, not when you and him are in the middle of a storm, with icy cold drops of rain constantly touching your skin.

You were too occupied with your thoughts and swelled heart that you didn't realize Jotaro had closed the distance between you and him, he tilted your head up until your lips and his are touching—

There's a sudden blinding light coming from the road, the roaring engine startled you as your eyes winced for a better vision to see what's behind those lights.

"Ah, the bus is finally here." Jotaro informed you before pulling you towards the bus. The tall vehicle is slowing down, slowly approaching both of you. The automatic door is sliding open, welcoming both of you to come aboard. You both gladly accept the welcome and hop into the bus.

"Welcome, passengers! Crazy weather eh?" The driver of the bus greeted me.

"Yes, it was rather.. Unexpected." You replied, Jotaro agreed by tugging down his completely soaked hat.

"Glad I came to rescue." He laughs a bit, closing the automatic door and starts to drive away from the deserted bus station.

There's no one inside the bus except you, him, and the driver—unsurprisingly, since no one wants to go out in the middle of the storm.

You took a seat near the window as you freed yourself from his drenched coat, trying to warm yourself by rubbing both of your palms together. You could feel a warmth building up on your palms.

"Need help?" Jotaro asked

"Oh, no, no. I can do it myself."

"Yare yare, gimme your hands."

"But-"

Before you could reply to him, he already pulled both of your hands and gently placed them onto his palms. You felt a pair of invisible hands landing on your freezing palms, radiating a heat which instantly melts away the cold feeling on your fingertips.

You let out a content sigh, both of Jotaro's and Star Platinum's hands have washed away all the cold from the rain off your hands. Even though you can't see the invisible stand he had told you about, you can feel Star's hands rub on your palms, up to your wrists, until they disappear and move to cup your face, your cheek instantly lit up as you feel a pair of invisible lips had landed on yours.

"Feeling better?"

He commands Star to retreat after giving you a chaste kiss and focuses on you fully by caressing the high point of your cheeks, gently wipes away the remaining drops of rain on your face.

"Yes, better."

The smile on your lips is so wide that you thought your face would split into two. To have Jotaro showing the gentle side of him is truly a rare moment for you to experience, and you always want to cherish this moment. He had told you to be patient with him in a relationship.

So you did.

And you're grateful you did.

You leaned your head onto his broad shoulder happily. He had wrapped his hand carefully around your shoulders and provided a comfortable cushion for you to rest upon.

The comfort he gives distracts you from a light dust of red on his cheek. He pulled down his hat and muttered out his signature catchphrase.

Kujo's residence is about 20 minutes away from your current place, but you didn't mind spending the rest of the time in comfortable silence as weariness began to seep into your body. You rested your eyes close and let your other senses take over the available slot left by your sight. The sound of the rain against the window of the bus constantly fills your sense of hearing, every turn and stop the bus makes barely noticeable to you, but you are aware of some arrival and departure from the bus passengers during the trip.

You felt yourself dozing off for a moment before a soft nudge on your shoulder slowly lifted the fog of your unconsciousness away. You groggily return to your sense of sight and look around just to find the bus is stopping at your destination, luckily the storm has subdued into drizzle. You groan softly, your mind instantly prioritizes you to get a nice, hot shower after you arrive at Jotaro's house. The unpleasant feeling of the wet clothes that stick onto your skin is uncomfortable whenever you move around. Not mentioning his damp coat on your shoulders. Jotaro noticed your discomfort, thus he took your hand and guided you out from the bus after paying the transportation fee. You politely bid the driver a good night and receive a smile in return.

"Be safe on your way home!"

"Thank you sir." You waved him goodbye.

His smiles widened as he waved to the both of you before closing the automatic door. The big vehicle is driven away, leaving the two of you alone in the bus station.

Jotaro placed his hand on your cheek to draw your attention, and you turned your face to him. The corner of his lips curled in amusement.

"You're so friendly to everyone, were you forgetting about me?"

"Um, no i didn't—" You blushed at his words, you just realize you've been watching the bus as it went further away from the bus station you're currently in.

Chuckle erupted from his throat, he once again took your hand and dragged you out from the shelter.

"Come on, we should get home."

You nod to him, you begin to match his wide steps but it's a struggle to keep your pace equal to his.

An unspoken compassion from him starts to become noticeable as his steps are slowing down. You felt you were instantly taken back to the very first time he held your hand back in your adolescence. The butterfly wings flutter on the inside of your stomach as you're overwhelmed by his form of affection, not that you complained.

The small gesture he had tried to show you held a lot of meanings. Jotaro Kujo wasn't a man of affection, but alas you were quite the opposite. At first, he's very hesitant about being in a relationship, afraid that he'd somehow accidentally hurt you. It took a lot of convincing and encouragement for him to gradually learn how to show his emotions up until the point he even lets you see him when he's emotionally vulnerable. You were glad you're able to receive his love at his own pace.

—

The street grew quieter as both of you walked into the passageway where his home is located. The rain stopped about a minute ago, but the sky hasn't cleared out from Cumulonimbus clouds.

"We're here." He stated.

You looked up, realizing you've been distracted by your thoughts till the Gate of Kujo's residence went unnoticed by you until now.

"Oh, yeah, great." You awkwardly replied, he must've noticed you've been dazed out the whole time.

The sound of metal groans from the gate's hinge was produced when he pushed the gate open. He steps aside, gesturing to you to enter his home first. You gladly step inside.

His house never ceased to amaze you. The traditional Japanese garden, with stone pathways that lead you to the wooden-old style house, looks exquisite.

Jotaro walked in right after you, he locked his gate before approaching the small box of switches. The flick of switch immediately turned on the tōrō that embellished alongside the pathway. Illuminating the path to his house.

You watched them in awe as the second flick of switch made the lamps under the canopy above you light up dimly.

"How long are you gonna stand there?" He called you out, instantly snapped you out from your thoughts. 

Damn, even if this was the hundredth time of you visiting his house, you're still nervous about going in. Not because of the intimidating presence of a huge house, but rather about what'd happen afterwards when the two of you are alone inside his room.

"Coming!" You jog towards him, he snorts at your clumsy steps.

The slide door squeaked against the strong push of his hand, the dim hallways greets you and him as both of you went inside. He sat on the small stair at the entrance of the house to free his soaked feet from the wet shoes. You imitate him as you pull your feet out from your flat shoes, cringed at the squishy sounds made by the foam parts of your shoes.

"Jojo, would you mind if I take a bath first?" You asked, insecure about the possible odor being produced by your feet if you don't wash it immediately.

"Sure, I'll lend you my clothes."

Wait.. Your brain is still processing his offer.

Your cheek bursts into a dark shade of red when realization hits you. You will be wearing his clothes as a change, but there's no possibility that he owned a pair of bras.

And women's underwear.

"Uh, i just— i just remember—" You stuttered, unable to assemble the question you wanted to ask, "do you— by any chance could lend me, you know,"

"Lend what?"

"Uh, that thing." His brows furrowed deeper as the thing you asked from him isn't clear enough. You groaned, he didn't get the message,

"... A spare underwear." The last part of your word came out as a whisper.

"Oh."

His response was so flat, you cursed your awkwardness that makes a fool out of you by exaggerating the matter.

But your request did make a part of him twitch, but it wasn't anywhere on his hand.

"Right," He pulled down his hat to conceal half of his face, "it's not a woman's underwear, but I do have spares, if you like."

"Thank you." You shut the conversation off.

Awkward silence follows afterward.

Jotaro began to walk inside his house without words. Soft thud of footsteps have joined the sound of the night. A loud croak of a frog and buzzing sounds from moth wings filled the night as both of you walked through the veranda of his house.

Just like a navigator implanted in his head, he walks around his house on autopilot. The both of you passed the empty living room, the kitchen, the tea room, until he stopped in front of a room you're familiar with.

The shōji slides open, revealing Jotaro's spacious room inside. The tatami feels nice under your feet when you step inside. You follow your feet as they carry you to the electrical switch of this room's lamp. The warm light is flooding the room instantly.

Jotaro closed the shōji with a loud slam. Surprisingly, you're used to how unaware he'd handle things around him at full strength. Sometimes you think he can't control the extra power he got from Star Platinum yet, but you know he won't admit it.

He disappeared to the cubicle of his wardrobe and came back with a pile of fresh clothes as he offered them to you.

"Here, take it."

"Thank you." You extended your hands to grab the clothes from him.

"Go on and take a shower." He reached for his hat, taking it off and tossing it to the nearest table. "I'll be in the kitchen. Tea?"

"Yes please." You lit up at his offer. A hot beverage after a nice shower sounds very pleasant.

"Alright."

You stand still as you watch the shōji slide open and closed once again. The silhouette of him appears on the semi translucent glass, until it disappears around the corner.

You quickly took a step towards the bathroom.

The fluorescent light filled the room as you turned the switch on. The bright white porcelains dominated your vision. You quickly stored your changes in the usual place and discarded your wet clothes from your body. Your skin felt moist after your body naturally let any liquid seep through the barrier of your skin. You frowned at the sight of your wrinkled fingertips and your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is matted because of the drying rainwater. It's gonna take a long time to smoothen your tousled hair.

You step into the shower room, closing the glass door behind and turn on the warm shower. It didn't take a long time before the cold water turned into warm water on your hand, the steam from the water instantly relaxed your muscles as you stood closer to the pouring water and let them wash away the remaining coldness of the rain. You sigh contently  when the temperature of the room has risen up to the point where it feels like you just curled up inside a blanket in the middle of cold night. When the cold is gone, you begin to scrub away the impurity off your skin with soap.

Great, now I'll smell exactly like Jotaro, you thought to yourself as you poured an appropriate amount of shampoo onto your head, the smell of him quickly invaded your nostrils as soon as you rub the shampoo on your hair. Bubbles quickly form on your head as you gently massage your scalp. His shampoo does feel a little too drying for your hair, but it's better than just washing your hair with only water.

The faint sound of the bedroom's door slid open indicating that he's back. You quickly wash up yourself before turning off the faucet, not wanting to keep him waiting for his turn. You step out from the foggy shower cubicle and pull the towel from the hanger. The towel is now wrapped around your body after you use it to wipe yourself dry. The temperature outside the shower room does feel a little colder.

This would be the first time you fully dressed in his clothes.

You take a look at yourself in the mirror again, tidying your hair a bit before fetching the pile of clothes inside the hanging cabinet on the wall.

The grey underwear he gave you is bigger than your size, not to mention the unusual bagginess around the crotch. You blushed at the thought of something usually nestled inside this brief. It did feel uncomfortable, but other than that, the shirt and his shorts felt comfortable on your skin. The smell of wooden wardrobe clinged on the shirt he had given you, a hint of his cologne bursts out everytime the fabric brushes on your skin. Oh, you definitely smell like Jotaro right now.

Your nipples are visible under the clothes, you cringed when you feel them peaked because of the coldness of the room. You shook your head as you draped your towel on your shoulders, covering the visible part of your nipples.

You unlocked the bathroom door, walked out with the dirty clothes in your hand.

"Jotaro, it's your turn." You call him out.

Your eyes instantly spotted him on the small spot in the center of the room. He had placed a portable short-legged table in front of him with two cups of tea settled on the table. The rain did a favor to you, the rainwater that wet his clothes made his shirt clings onto the skin underneath. Which exhibit the outline of his forearms and torso.

He took a sip of his tea before setting it down on the table. He gets up and grabs a new towel before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind.

You gently knock on them, "Jojo, could you hand me your dirty clothes? I'll wash them."

He grunts as an answer, the sound of rustling shirt and rattling belt clasps follow afterwards.

The door is opened for the second time, this time with a hand sticking out with a bundle of clothes in the grip.

"Here." He handed you his laundry. You let him place them down on top of your hand,

"You're welcome." You giggled as you took it and headed out to the laundering room, feeling a blush creep on your cheek.

The washing machine that belongs in this household is quite similar to yours. The only difference is it's a lot bigger and elegant compared to what you have in your house. You separate the whites and begin to do the chores.

On your way back to his room after finished laundering the dirty clothes was awfully quiet. You looked up to the sky from the veranda and spotted a dim moonlight behind the clouds. The storm has passed, leaving the sky overcast with just a thin layer of clouds.

You slide the room's door open, surprised when you see him currently sitting beside the table with a small towel resting on his head. He already changed into comfortable pants and only pants. Exhibiting his ungodly muscles of his torso and after-shower skin that looks soft if you touch them. 

You shook your urge to run your fingers onto his moist skin off as you tried to distract yourself from the view in front of you. The fact that he took a bath in less than 5 minutes is questionable. Did he mistake rinsing his body as taking a bath?

"Um, you're done already?"

He looked up from the magazine in his hand as if it's not obvious enough.

".. Let me dry your hair then."

You waited for him to reply, but he often gave you silent answers. You closed the door behind you and fetched the hairdryer inside the bottom of the desk drawer.

The sound of a buzzing hair dryer fills the room as you're working on his hair. You kneeled to have a better view to his head, gently run your fingers into his hair while drying his hair delicately.

He relaxed at your touch and leans closer to you, closing his eyes. His hair quickly dried out with the help of an expensive hair dryer his mom gave him, sadly it has never been in use except when you're around. You pull him towards you as you wrap your hands around his neck, placing a kiss on his forehead.

He chuckled, "What's up with the kiss?"

"Nothing, I just want to do it." You place another kiss on his cheek.

"You could just tell me if you want more." He twisted his body to face you and reached out to cup your face, pulling you towards him. Both of your lips almost come in contact.

You blushed furiously as his forearm brushed on your clothed breast.

It's not like Jotaro had never seen or touched you bare body, but the awareness from not wearing a bra when you both weren't in some sexual activity feels so wrong, it's like you were committing a crime though it's actually not a big deal. 

"You do realize your face is turning red, do you?" He finally closed the distance between your lips with a kiss. He turned his body fully facing yours. Your knees weaken and you fall onto your back with him on top of you as the result of intense kisses he poured onto your lips.

You deepen the kiss to suppress the noises caused by his wandering hands roaming on your skin. He slowly descends his body on top of yours, making you gasped for air between the kisses. 

The shorts you wore easily slide off from your legs, leaving the bottom part of your body covered only with baggy underwear. His hands quickly found the hem of the brief before he finally removed the last fabric on your leg, the chilling air instantly licked your hot core. He pulled away from the kiss and smirked as he saw a darker spot on the grey underwear you wore.

"You're staining my brief,"

"Oh my god, I'm sorry." You replied as you covered your face, feeling the embarrassment skyrocketed in your head as he pulled them off you completely. It didn't take a second before the brief was thrown somewhere on the floor.

"Not that I mind." You let out a low moan when he shifted and kissed the back of your ear. It's not only embarrassment that has peaked so high inside you, it also drags your sensitivity up beyond the ceiling. As the result, you wetted yourself more.

His hand found the hem of your shirt, he pulled the shirt over your head along with your drenched hair towel and tossed them somewhere in the room.

You instantly hug yourself in an attempt to cover your bare chest. It didn't take a second before he yanked both of your hands off your chest, keeping your breast open for his eyes to feast.

The tent on his pants grew abnormally bigger as you wriggle under him. You weren't ready, at least for now. He always took time to prepare himself and he'd never been this bold before. This is beyond confidence. Did something aroused him? What was the cause? Or did something triggered him until he's—

Oh

His scalp. You had accidentally teased him by running your fingers into his hair, where his erogenous zone is hidden under his thick mane.

Of course it's more than that. He had planned this since Ms. Holly is currently in America with her husband, he would never pass the chance to spend time with you alone. The evidence is showing through the absence of the underwear he should've been wearing. Besides, the outline of his cock inside his pants looks way too obvious.

A spark of courage started a fire inside you. He had missed you, and you were just the same. You ignore the fluttering wings of butterflies inside your stomach as you move your hands in the second after he lets go of them and runs your fingers into his hair, digs your nail down onto his scalp. He groans at the sudden stimulation he receives. 

From many experiences, you both already know each other's erogenous zone. The second-most sensitive part of his body—the first one was his cock, obviously—is his scalp.

"Jotaro," You pull his head down until your lips meet again, you wrap your legs around his waist and start grinding on his hard bulge. 

You were right, there's no underwear beneath those shorts.

You silently thanked his decision. The cotton fabric of his shorts against your arousal almost feel zero in layers and it pleasures you but leaves you impatient at the same time. You moaned as you feel the outline of his cock better when you grind harder.

"Now you're staining my shorts." He hisses between his heavy breath,

"Take them off then..!" You gasped in protest

"Yare yare, use your own hand, woman." He grunted as he rose up and let you do the job. You quickly got to work on pulling the elastic band of the short down to free his swollen member from the tight shorts, even though the view of his fully erected cock is tempting to be left untouched. You are forced to drag your eyes to meet him, silently asking for permission to satisfy him with your mouth. He shook his head. Today, he's skipping it. 

The sight of him kicking off his shorts is truly arousing. He's impatient, and so were you. You're familiar with this calm before storm period, where the tension in the atmosphere is so thick as if you're trapped inside a hardened gelatine.

Heavy breaths fill the lack of conversation between you and him as both of you share the same stare with the same intensity. You were filled with anticipation, hoping he'd ravish you and suffocate you as he pours his passion into you.

But of course, Jotaro won't let you get what you want—yet. He lowers his body for a bit before starting teasing your fold by dragging his hard tip up and down. You moaned as it stimulated you, but it wasn't enough.

"Jotaro!" You begged, "Don't tease me!"

"Impatient, aren't you?" He whispered beside your ear, positioning himself as he adjusted your legs around his waist. You pant heavily as you felt the long waited tip finally touched the entrance of your arousal.

You inhale harshly as his tip penetrated your core and slowly slid in easily into your lubricated wall.

"Fuck.. You were already this aroused." He curses as your wall massages the head of his cock. Sending him a sweet spark of pleasure.

It's barely in and he already made you into a moaning mess. His head had ducked down as his plump lips tugged your nipple lightly, and later he'd soothe your aching tip with his tongue. Both of his hands soon join the fun, they cup both of your mound and squeeze them gently. He likes to feel the softness of your breasts under his rough palms.

You moan when you feel his member is slowly sinking further and rubbing itself around the right spot on your wall. He lets out a quivered breath as he stops for a second to pull himself backward and shoves them inside. Your back begins to arch in pleasure as he repeats the process, in, out, in, then out again. Your wall was slowly adjusted to his size and you were starting to feel good.

"Jotaro, faster—!" You urged him, clinging into the new formed pleasure that slowly built inside your core.

Jotaro peels his hand away from your chest and goes to the south. Your eyes instantly open when you feel his fingers slip into your labia and slowly circulate around your sensitive bud. You opened your mouth to protest but he shut it by shoving his tongue in the second after you opened your mouth—which only resulted in you drowning deeper into pleasure.

This is unfair, you want to make him feel good as much as you did too.

You cupped his face as you gladly welcomed his thick, wet muscle into your mouth while he pumped himself into you.

"Let me please you, (Y/N)." He heaved softly between the kiss, "You've done so much for my pleasure."

Behind your blurry vision, you could see his determined stares. His brows were knitted together as he solely focuses himself on you.

Hot breath blew against the curve of your neck. He's sucking on a certain spot on your neck, adding a new pleasure you already had to bear from the constant stimulation in your lower region.

In that very moment, your senses are heightened by twofold. You could hear his harsh breathing, the wet sound of skin against skin, your own heartbeats, but you couldn't hear the sound that has escaped your mouth as clear as the other sound. The wave of pleasures keeps coming, sweeping you away from the shore and drowning you until you're unable to take control over your body.

Your clit has begun to numb from the constant rub his fingers are giving. The numbing sensation crawls its way to your legs, until it reaches your toes. You're clinging into his arms, completely at his mercy.

"Fuck, (Y/N)." He curses as he draws a shaky breath, he's undeniably starting to succumb into his own need for release. Wildly thrust himself into you.

"I— I'm close—" You gasped. Unable to form any decent word longer than that.

His only response was sweet nothings like 'you're doing good', 'cum for me', which comes out as a whisper. If your senses weren't heightened, you might be unable to catch them. With the remaining logical sense in your brain, you're aware Jotaro wasn't entirely conscious when he said those things.

You were so close to your release, it was so close but you still couldn't reach it. You bucked your hip faster to be in the same rhythm with his. Both of your body are covered in sweat, you could see the sweat has made a few strands of his hair stick onto his forehead, forming a few fat buds of sweat before they're rolling down on his face.

It only took one tilt of your body to make him graze into the right spot that instantly blacked out your eyes as you see nothing but stars. Within a few thrust, your body goes into convulsions as intense pleasure washes over you, triggering your brain to release large amounts of dopamine. You cried out his name as you finally reached the sweet orgasm he had intended to give you. Now it was his turn.

He increases his pace and fills the room with the loud sound of skin slapping besides your heavy breath and his small, almost unnoticeable moans. He's frustrated. He's already close halfway through the intercourse, but he's holding it back so you could reach it before him. With a desperate grunt but freed from duty to make you feel good, he lets his body guide him toward his own desire. He wants to buck his hip harder, it was there, so close to him to reach. With the help of your cum, he just had to thrust into you faster, and faster and—

His body spasms as he finally meets the orgasm he had been chasing. He arches his back as he feels his cock spill his hot cums into you.

He instantly feels light headed and collapses on top of you. You tighten your hug around his neck, kissing his cheek sweetly. You both stayed in that position for a while, enjoying the afterglow in each other's embrace.

You could feel the thick liquid of his release seeping into your core deeper, but he's spilling the rest out when he moves to remove his member from you. 

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips, feeling the familiar sense of sleepiness begin to sink into your sore body. 

"Don't sleep yet." He said as he stroked your cheek.

You smile. "I know", you softly replied. Sleeping on the floor without a futon will make your back stiff in the morning, he usually said. 

He smiles back at you—so gentle that it would make you squeal if sleep wasn't your main priority right now.

He got up before gathering the scattered clothes on the floor and left you to bring back his folded futon. 

He unfurled the futon beside you and told you to move onto the simple bedding—which took every energy you had left to drag your body to climb upon the fresh spread futon.

He cleans himself with tissues before putting his brief back on. You watched him change comfortably with your heavy lidded eyes.

Your eyes were finally closing. You almost fell into deep slumber if it's not because there's a sudden cold touch on your skin. You open your eyes before realizing you had fallen asleep for quite a while. You didn't remember Jotaro had left your side and came back with a cardigan and wet towel in his hand.

"Jotaro.." You call him quietly,

"Shh, (Y/N). You can go back to sleep." Jotaro hushes you as he cleans the stain on your inner thighs. He's really pampering you today.

"Come here, I want to cuddle you." You murmur, barely conscious as you pat the empty space besides you.

He chuckled softly before he kissed your forehead and joined you on the futon. You curled your body against him as he wraps you with a cardigan and pulls the thick blanket over your body and his. You then found yourself inside his arms before you slipped into unconsciousness, feeling a sense of protection as his steady breath lulls you back into slumber.

It wasn't a ruined date after all.

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Fear of the Devil: Nero x G/N Reader

Summary: It always was the same nightmare. Spurred on by your inherently inferior humanity when compared to your hunting partner’s two halves. This fear consumed your mind every night and he’d always come to comfort you; so why are you still afraid of him?

Takes place in the time between the end of DMC 5 and the twin’s return from Hell. Nero and you live at DMC during this time to keep an eye on the shop and whatnot. When talking about his “Devil Bringer” I am talking about the DMC 5 version; the DMC 4 version is highkey ugly as fuck ngl. I also understand that you wouldn’t be able to get over something like this as quickly as you do; and as easily… Just let me have this lmaooo Fun fact: “Without You” is my longest (current) story at roughly 7845 words, this is my second longest at around 6645 (give or take due to editing) 🧸💞🧸 Y’all know the drill by now; You use this; https://devilmaycry.fandom.com/wiki/Revenant And this: https://devilmaycry.fandom.com/wiki/Agni_%26_Rudra Oh! You also have a pocket knife ;) 💞🧸💞 G/N reader x Soft Nero. Un-established relationship. Nero and you have known each other since you were kids and lived together in Fortuna. Violence is used against the reader; minor blood warning--universe typical violence. Dirty jokes and thoughts from both of you Fluffy comfort.

     “Ha!” you shoved Nero’s shoulder playfully, “I win again.”

     “Tch. Whatever,” the young hunter sauntered to the dartboard and pulled out the darts. This was the third round of 301 that you’d won against the teal devil; despite him boasting about having a "perfect" aim.

     You stretched and cracked your back, “Think I’m gonna turn in for the night--if that’s alright.”

     Nero walked over to the desk and put the darts away in the top drawer, “Yeah, probably a good idea--we’ve got an early morning.”

     “Yeah, don’t remind me,” you sighed.

     The coffee table made a loud scraping sound as you pulled it away from its spot. Then you moved to pull out the couch; revealing the bed you’d been using for the past few months.

     “Hey…” Nero leaned his ass against the edge of the desk (totally not checking you out) and stared with a raised brow, “You sure you’re gonna be fine tonight? You can stay upstairs with me if you want.”

     A part of you wanted to accept his offer, however, you shook your head ‘no’, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

     Nero’s lips turned to a thin line and he squinted at you, signifying he didn’t believe you. Over the past few weeks, you had woken him up almost every night by screaming bloody murder. Hell, some nights you’d wake up screaming several times. He’d never force you to talk about it; but, he was as concerned as he was curious about what nightmares plagued your mind. All he knew was that you were beyond terrified from how loud your heart was and the overwhelmingly intense smell of fear.  Despite all this, you’d always refuse his offers of staying with him. He’d stay downstairs till you’d tell him to go back to his room.

     Noticing his stare, you raised a brow, “What?”

     The teal devil crossed his arms, “Would it help if I stayed down here? I don’t mind, you know.”

     You shook your head, “I’m alright, thanks though.”

     He stood upwards and pursed his lips as he sighed through his nose, “Fine, I’m leaving my door open just in case--don't hesitate if you need me, yeah?”

     A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth and you nodded, “Okay.”

     He hesitated for a moment before deciding to saunter to the stairs, “Good night, hot stuff,” he winked and smiled.

     You laughed and tried to ignore the small butterflies that had formed in your stomach, “Night, handsome.” 

     Nero smiled widely as a light pink blush dusted his features. The stairs creaked slightly as he went up them and to his room. Leaving you to your own devices. 

     You went over to the light switch, flipping the lights off. The shop was almost eerie when it was this dark and quiet. So, in an attempt to combat this, you turned on some soft music on your phone. The pull-out couch squeaked as you curled up on it. You hadn’t even fallen asleep yet and you already felt a coil of fear begin to form. A small amount of envy pricked at the edges of your mind at how Nero doesn’t have to sleep as often as you; even though he typically does. If you could have it your way, you’d never sleep again. 

     A heavy sigh left your lips as you inevitably drifted to sleep.

===

     The two of you stood back to back; surrounded by a group of miscellaneous demons. Despite the aching of your battered body, you were smiling widely. 

     “Best of Three?” Nero held up Blue Rose and had a smile that matched your own.

     “You’re so on,” in your hands you held your own firearm, Revenant.

     With that, the two of you split apart. 

     Nero emptied the barrel of Blue Rose and then pulled out Red Queen. In a vain attempt at winning, he began to use his wings to pull demons from your sightline.

     “Hey!” you glared at him, “That’s so cheating.”

     He laughed, “Says the one who stole from me last time.”

     Without your attention leaving Nero, you outstretched your arm backwards and killed a Hell Antenora with a single shot. You rolled your eyes, “Bullshit, I had to help you since you were buried neck-deep in demons.” 

     “I knew what I was doing!” Nero jested.

     The both of you laughed as you turned your back to take care of a few scattered Hellbats. 

     “I think I’m owed a--” you turned around to face him; however he was gone, “Nero?”

     Feeling a slight breeze on your neck, you turned around but saw nothing. 

     “Okay very funny,” you crossed your arms, “You can knock it off now.”

     Still nothing.

     Your eyes scanned the area around you. It’s strange, you feel like something changed but couldn’t place your finger on it. There was no noise, no movement, no more wind--hell, there wasn't even any scent in the air. It was completely barren.

     Confused and slightly alarmed, you continued forward down the road. A feeling of being watched crept around the edge of your mind as you picked up your pace to a light jog.

     “Nero!” you began to call out, hoping for some sort of response, “This isn’t funny. Come on Nero.”

     As you pressed onwards, you swore that you were going in circles; which wasn’t possible, since you'd only been going straight forwards. All the while, you called out intermittently for your hunting partner and began to fear the worst. 

     After what seemed like a lifetime, you came upon a new area. You slowly stalked forwards into the open lot, Revenant in hand. A quick movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention; however, before you could get a shot off, you were swept off your legs by someone else’s.

     Now sitting on the ground, you glanced around for the culprit. Your mind was racing as you frantically looked around unable to spot anyone. Upon returning to your feet, you saw something once more. This time, you were knocked forward. Revenant went flying outwards and your twin scimitars--Agni and Rudra--had been pulled from your back; leaving you defenseless. With a groan and grimace, you pushed yourself up onto your feet. You spit a wad of bloody saliva from your mouth and wiped your bloody (and broken) nose.  

     Panic set in as you saw the movement for a third time, you decided to shoulder-roll sideways and managed to dodge the attacker. Once out of your roll and back upright, you finally got a glimpse at your attacker.

     “Nero?” a pit began to form in your stomach. 

     His stare was soulless and cold as he turned to you. Something was off about him, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. 

     You began to cautiously approach him, “What the fuck was that for? I was just fuckin’ with you earlier you didn’t have to--”

     The young hunter lunged at you and tackled you to the ground, only making animalistic growling in response. His hand gripped around your neck; which was notably his Devil Bringer.

     “Fuck-” you grabbed his forearm and feebly attempted to pull him off of you, “Nero!”

     Nero’s grip only tightened. Seeing no other choice, you squirmed as much as possible trying to break his tight choke. All the while, you dug for your pocket knife. Once you found it, you jammed it as far as you could into his ribs which made him release you.

     Not wasting the chance, you kneed him in the crotch and shoved him off of you; leaving your knife behind. You stood back up and got ready to fight; putting your hands up. He looked down at the small blade and pulled it from his body, not flinching in the slightest. A twitch of his lip pulled up one side of his mouth into a smirk; which was usually comforting, but all it did was make you go pale. 

     He pocketed the blade and reached upward to retrieve Red Queen from his back. Without breaking eye contact with you, he thrust the blade into the ground in front of him. 

     Challenging you.

     Your heart was pounding as the two of you began to circle one another. Nero had never asked you to fight like this and that doesn’t even include the evident intent to harm you. 

     “Nero,” your voice was loud but still quivered with an incomprehensible fear, “You don’t have to do this…”

     All you got in response was a lip-twitch and snarl. Your heart skipped a beat as you barely dodged his pounce forward. He continued to try and grab you as you played defense; what else were you supposed to do?

     That’s when you got an idea; maybe he put Red Queen there not as a declaration of his challenge, but rather, to taunt you. You and your weak human existence. Nero knew that you were at a disadvantage, so he put his prized weapon there to give you a chance… or maybe you were grasping at straws. Regardless, it was quite difficult for you to wield such a heavy blade so it wasn't the best plan… but it was the only thing you could come up with.

     You slowly moved the fight towards the center of the lot; moving you closer to your only chance of winning. After he lunged again, you moved to pull Queen from its resting spot. Surprisingly, you managed to pull it out with ease, however, Nero was right back on you. Without thinking you moved the blade in a large sweeping motion; spinning on your heels for momentum. 

     The hunter went flying. You winced as he hit the ground causing dirt to fly up into the air. You looked down at Red Queen's blade, it had been spattered with his blood. With great effort, you held the specialized durandal with both hands in front of you; unsure of how to properly use such a cumbersome weapon. 

     With wide eyes and a hard swallow, your blood ran cold upon seeing Nero stand. The slash along his middle had healed and he looked pissed. In an instant, Nero was in his triggered form. 

     His voice was warped and filled with cold anger, one you’d never seen nor heard from your partner.

     You swung the blade as he sprinted at you, however, his wings caught the edge before the strike landed. The teal devil grappled your forearms and, as he stared you dead in the eyes, crushed the bones in your arms. 

     You screamed and unwillingly released Red Queen; giving Nero the blade. With a stumble back, you grimaced as tears pricked at your eyes. If you hadn't been through as many fights as you have, you definitely would have passed out. Thankfully your adrenaline from being in fight-or-flight kept you upright as you stood with a slight crouch; even if you couldn't fight. You were unable to feel your hands as you jumped back out of the swing from Red Queen. 

     However, that quickly changed when he used one of his wings to grab your arm. With all his strength he yanked your arm harshly against your backward movement and pulled it out of its socket.

     “Fuck-!" your voice cracked as you yelled. 

     Nero charged you again, not letting up. The two of you continued this for a few swings before he grabbed your leg. It wasn’t clear if it was intentional or not, but Nero sloppily threw you off to the side into a nearby building. The bricks cracked from the sudden impact of your body. Blood flew from your mouth as you felt everything inside you lurch and contort in ways it shouldn’t.

     You landed on your side with your back to the building, leaving you to face and watch Nero. Each one of his steps made your body panic, doing everything you could to try and move. Ignoring the screaming pain of your body, you desperately clawed at the ground to move but it was hopeless. He stopped only a few feet from you.

     Using his wings, he picked up from the ground; making you shout in sheer anguish. You were held in front of him as if you were nothing but a piece of meat being examined. His eyes were sharp as they locked with yours and you began to cry; unable to recognize your childhood friend through that goldenrod stare.

     Without a second thought, Nero plunged Red Queen through your middle and pinned you into the building behind you. Your mind went blank as you felt the searing blade slice through everything inside you. 

     “Pathetic,” Nero’s eyes never left yours as he twist the blade and handle; adding to your pain. 

     Through your screams you heard something, someone, calling out to you.

===

     The next thing you knew you were awake. Your head was spinning as you jolted upwards and violently grabbed whatever was in front of you… Which ended up being Nero’s neck.

     “Hey--!” Nero grabbed your forearm, trying to make you release your death grip.

     Which worked, kind of… you shoved him back and made him land flat on the floor. You then retreated as far back on the couch as you could, your mind still clouded in fear. 

     Nero groaned and stood up.  He was in nothing but a shitty grey t-shirt and dark-sage-colored boxers with his hair an absolute mess. Without thinking, he piped up using his normally abrasive tone, “What was that--” his eyes met yours, “Hey…” you had a deer-in-headlights stare and were shaking. Nero’s voice slowly became softer with each word, “Hey, everything’s alright,” he got back onto the mattress and slowly eased his way towards you, “You’re okay.”

     You shook your head and tried to move further into the couch as Nero reached his hand outward. His voice was barely over a whisper, “Easy, easy-- I’m not going to hurt you,” his hand gently brushed your leg.

     You kicked at his hand and reached for anything you could; anything to defend yourself. Right behind you, in the corner of the room, were shelves with random items scattered on them. 

     Nero noticed you grab one of those items; which happened to be a half-empty bottle of beer, and ducked as you threw it at him. Seeing him dodge your pitiful attempt at self-defense made you crawl further up on the couch. Now you were sitting on top of the arm and back. Your eyes were dilated and your heart was pounding as you watched him sit up. 

     “Whoa-- okay relax,” Nero put his hands up with the palms facing you, “I’m not attacking you. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you…”

     The two of you sat in a standoff for what felt like an eternity--in reality, it was only a few minutes. The young man kept his hands where you could see them and didn’t move a muscle; only continuing to stare you in the eyes.

     Tonight was the first time you’d reacted this violently to being woken up. Nero had never seen you this terrified before; no matter what hellish things you'd seen and been through. Seeing you have such an intense response made him want to comfort you; to help you. 

     Eventually, you spoke, voice scarcely audible, “N-Nero?"

     “It’s me,” his gaze softened slightly, “You okay?”

     You gave a small nod and looked away from him. Slowly you slid back down to sit on the couch, resting your body on the back cushions of the pleather couch. 

     Without skipping a beat, Nero moved to sit next to you. Your shoulders gently brushed together as you sat side-by-side. Another few minutes passed without either of you speaking. 

     “I think I’m gonna stay down here tonight,” Nero looked over at you, “I don’t know what is scaring you so much, but,” he looked down at your hand, wanting nothing more than to hold it, “I want to help.”

     “You don’t have to, Nero; I’ll be okay,” you mumbled.

     “That’s what you said earlier, only for you to start screaming barely an hour after I left you,” Nero cautiously reached for your hand.

     Seeing his hand near your forearm, you flinched and yanked your arms away. With raised shoulders, you turned away from him, “No--!" your voice was laced with a tremendous amount of fear.

     He gently grabbed your shoulder, “What’s going on… Did I do something--”

     Your body lurched forwards, pulling you away from his touch. Quietly you whimpered, “Don't...”

     “What-” Nero scrunched his face with his lips parted slightly in thought. He slid to sit in front of you, resting on his knees. The concerned hunter grabbed both your hands tightly, not allowing you to pull them away, “What is going on?”

     “Please,” tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you tried to pull away. Pulling your shoulders and legs as close to you as you could, you let out a half-choked sob, “I'm sorry.”

     “This have to do with your nightmares?” Nero saw you flick your eyes up to his for a moment before you looked away again, “It does, doesn’t it?”

     Your body shook as you began to cry and finally pulled your hands from his, saying nothing.

     Nero leaned his weight back and rested his hips on his heels. A heavy sigh left his lips as he thought about what to do; about what this meant. That’s when it clicked.

     “Your nightmares are about me; aren’t they?”

     The glance upwards from you cut through Nero's soul; you were telling him yes without even needing to speak. 

     His expression fell as he realized the gravity of the situation. How could he comfort you if he was the reason for this in the first place?

     “Could-” Nero’s voice was quiet, “you tell me about it?” he gently reached out and touched your leg with his fingers, “Please?”

     You looked up at him, tears still sliding down your cheeks. No response.

     Nero sighed and moved to sit back next to you, “I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t tell me how.”

     A few minutes passed of you sitting with him. The only sound in the DMC was the gentle piano music from your cellphone. If he wasn’t able to hear your heart, he would’ve figured you were telling him to fuck off; however, Nero noticed your heart rate was slowly returning to normal. Your legs had gradually relaxed in a crisscrossed position and your hands were in your lap; opening yourself back up to the world.

     With a voice low and rough, you finally spoke up, “You sure you want to know?”

     Nero looked over at you and met your bloodshot eyes with a nod, “Yeah, I’m sure."

     “It’s always the same and,” you looked down at your hands as if they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, “it’s about you and me…”

     Nero’s brow was furrowed sadly as he watched you struggle with your words.

     “We are doing a normal job, but you disappear. I can’t find you for a long time and then I…” you swallowed hard, fighting back another wave of tears, “I get attacked by… you .”

     Your partner turned to face you fully, a pit slowly forming in his stomach. 

     “You disarm me and then…” you looked at him for a brief moment, his eyes were filled with a sad expression as he hung on every word you said. You turned back to stare at your hands, “then I approach you, but something’s… something’s wrong.”

     You shook your head, “You have your Devil Bringer still and don’t acknowledge me. Once I get up to you,” a shiver ran through your body, “you try to choke me out, but I stab you and…” your pulse and words quickened, “and we fight. I get Queen and hit you with it. But… but you…”

     Nero noticed your sudden and alarming increase of fear, “Hey, you don’t have to continue if--”

     “No,” you looked at him tears once more in your eyes, “I can do this.”

     He nodded, allowing you to continue.

     You cleared your throat and looked away from him, “You trigger and I can’t stop you. I tried to use Queen but you stopped it and…” you let out a shuddering breath, “you broke both my arms.”

     Nero’s posture stiffened, “ What? ”

     “I try to fight, but you toss me around and dislocate one of my shoulders.”

     The young man’s face continued to become more distressed as he heard you continue.

     “It gets blurry from here… I hit a wall at some point and everything just,” you shook your head, “breaks… but you aren’t done…” you unconsciously held your middle as your voice slowly became softer, “You impale me with Red Queen and pin me up on the wall… Calling me pathetic. I usually wake up after that…"

     The room fell silent. Neither of you spoke as the air slowly became thicker with dread. Nero’s mind was racing. He's never hurt you, not once. The boy's overly stubborn about sparring with you because of his fear of doing just that. He expected your nightmare to be something less violent; maybe some harsh words or fear of being abandoned (similar to ones he has had), but this… this was more than he could’ve imagined.

     The two of you had known each other since you were young. You grew up together. Played together. Fought together. After Nero was hurt and lost his human arm, you were right by his side. Despite his resistance, you sparred with him and helped him learn about his Devil Bringer--even if neither of you knew what it truly was capable of. It made his gut wrench in frustration. Here you are, afraid of him. Needing his help and he doesn't even know how to. 

     You looked over at him. Nero’s face had hardened into a pissed-off scrunch and you spoke with a barely audible voice, “Sorry… I said too much…” 

     His eyes widened as your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “Hey, don't apologize," he noticed your hand on his knee and cautiously grabbed it, fearing you'd pull away again, "It's not your fault…”

     The feeling of his calloused warm palm against your icy hand was a small comfort. You leaned against his shoulder, letting out a shuddered breath, “I just don’t know why this…” your voice trailed off. 

     In Nero’s mind, he was replaying the past few months and was trying his best to pinpoint why this would’ve started. That’s when he realized what unintentionally started this avalanche of twisted dreams. 

     A few months ago the two of you had been on a job together; which was nothing special, just destroying a demon nest. However, you were pretty concussed and having a hard time staying upright; relying on Nero to help you move forward. The two of you got into a bit of a tough spot when making your way back to the van. A group of Scudo and Proto Angelos cut off your exit. Knowing you weren’t able to fight, Nero leaned you against a nearby wall and told you to stay there. 

     The young hunter was doing fairly well against the small pack. Right up until he heard you shoot Revenant. Immediately he pivoted around and saw that you were being attacked by a stray Scudo Angelo. In an attempt to defend yourself, you put your forearms up as the Scudo Angelo bashed you with its shield. This landed you on your ass; which was bad since you were unable to properly stand back up unassisted. He saw that both your arms already had started to bruise and you were looking around, more confused than before.

     Nero lost his cool and triggered. With a quick lunge, he tackled the Scudo Angelo to the ground. His hands were wrapped around the demon’s neck and he doesn’t remember much; although he knows he said some very aggressive words and strangled it to death. 

     After the demon was dead, he moved back to the few that remained and wiped the floor with them. This had been the first time you saw his triggered form and, from the look you gave him, it wasn’t a welcomed experience. He hasn’t used it around you since.

     “Can I ask you something?” Nero leaned his cheek against the top of your head.

     “Sure,” you had laced your fingers with his and were rubbing your thumb against his hand.

     “Are you afraid of my trigger?” his tone was almost sad

     You waited a moment before responding, “What makes you say that?”

     “This all started shortly after you banged your head really hard on that one mission… which you also saw my triggered form for the first time,” Nero sat with bated breath.

     Giving it some thought, certain things about the nightmare started to make sense. All you could do was nod in affirmation; knowing that it was a stupid thing to be afraid of. 

     The two of you sat for another few minutes as Nero mulled over ideas in his head on how to make this better. Before he moved to get up from the couch. 

     Once fully standing, he looked over to you, “I’ll be right back,” and disappeared up the stairs. 

     You moved to sit on the edge of the couch, letting your feet hit the floor. The music on your phone had begun to annoy you, so you grabbed it and turned it off. “Great…” you mumbled, reading the time on your phone: 2:33 AM. Nero and you were supposed to be leaving for a job in only a few hours. 

     “Here,” you turned to see that Nero had come back downstairs. 

     “...what..?” you were confused, to say the least. In his outstretched hand was Blue Rose.

     “Well,” he smiled, “I think I know how to solve your nightmares.”

     “By what? Shooting you?” you asked sarcastically with a raised brow, grabbing the revolver.

     “Kinda, but only if you feel you have to,” Nero moved to the other side of the room.

     “Nero--” you shook your head, “I am not shooting you.”

     “If it's any better, they aren’t real bullets,” he shrugged, “figured holy water capsules should work, right?”

     “You still have some? Damn,” you opened the chamber and, sure as shit, there were slugs filled with holy water, “Thought that you used them all?”

     Your partner laughed, “Yeah, I have them in case of emergency.”

     “Which this is?”

     Nero answered without skipping a beat, “Yes it is.”

     “Alright,” you stood up and faced him, “What’s the plan?”

     “Sit back down, yeah?” with pursed lips you sat back down on the edge of the bed, “I figured …” Nero hesitated, “that if you see me triggered,” he sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “then maybe the nightmares will stop.”

     “That’s a horrible idea, Nero,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, “These bullets may as well be real then; you’ve seen what they do to demons.”

     “I’ll be fine, plus,” he smiled warmly at you, “I don’t think you’ll need them.”

     You shook your head, “I think that this is a bad idea… but,” you flicked Blue Rose closed, “if you’re fine with it then I trust you.”

     “Thanks, babe,” Nero winked at you making you roll your eyes and smile.

     The room lit up a bright blue from Nero’s trigger. Your heart had picked up several paces and it took everything in you not to keep your finger on the trigger of the revolver. The teal demon stood only a dozen or so feet from you and had his goldenrod eyes trained on you. 

     Involuntarily, you had begun to tremble as your body replayed the several weeks’ worth of painful sleep. The two of you had locked into a stare. Upon doing so, you noticed that Nero’s eyes had begun to dilate slightly--reminding you of a cat. Your eyes broke from his as you began to scan over his body. 

     It was strange how Nero looks so different but still looks like himself. As much as you loved his short hair, it was nostalgic seeing him with longer locks--even if it was quadruple the length. Your lips twitched upward a bit as you thought about how you purposely learned to braid hair just to braid Nero’s. You found yourself wondering if it is as soft as his hair was before.

     However, the moment Nero tried to move towards you, everything in you shot right back into a panicked state. He noticed and stopped his slow increments. A part of Nero wanted to speak and tell you that it was alright but figured that hearing his distorted voice would only make things worse. 

     After a moment of calming yourself down, you trailed your eyes down his arms and winced slightly at the sight. Although you already knew his Devil Bringer was essentially his triggered form's arm; you never got to look at the scaled skin and compare the two. Once more you found yourself thinking about your time on Fortuna together. 

     The first time you were alone with Nero after he lost his “real” arm, you spent nearly an hour just tracing the bright blue lines. It was soothing to you and Nero never understood why. He hated his arm for quite some time and was always apprehensive about you touching it. However, he never pushed you away or moved to stop you--maybe he liked it more than he cared to admit. You smiled and laughed to yourself at the thought.  

     While you were lost in good memories, Nero slowly moved forward and now stood only a few feet from you (you both were basically playing the world’s most tense game of “red light, green light”). The bright light thrown from his body snapped you out of your head and you tensed. You kept reminding yourself that it was Nero standing there and that he was still himself. 

     He stood still as you continued to look at him. With a slow panning sight, you wandered the faint lines of his pecs and watched his chest rise and fall. You wished that you were running your hands over him rather than your eyes. 

     Then you slid your gaze down his abs to the glowing highlights there, tracing them with your eyes. You remembered how soft the lines on his Devil Bringer were and wondered if the other lines were the same. 

     Your eyes then wandered to his hips and you froze. It hadn't hit you till now that Nero was practically naked right now. Butterflies formed in your stomach at the thought. Of course, you had seen his ass on accident more than once--even whistling at him a few times just to mess with him--but you'd never seen his front bits. A distant part of you wondered if Nero actually had a functional dick when in this form and if it was different than a human’s.

     The teal devil had been watching you stare at his codpiece for some time, "Checking out the merchandise, huh?" Nero couldn't help but revel in calling you out, "Care for a sample~" even with the distortion, your heart skipped a beat at Nero saying such a thing.

     Your face lit up bright red with embarrassment as you quickly sputtered in response, "I wasn't-- I just--"

     “Uh-huh sure,” he laughed, “You know if that’s what I gotta do to help you--”

    “Oh-- shut the fuck up--” you laughed and tried your best to play it cool. 

     Nero cocked his head to the side, “Still think I’m scary?”

     You rolled your eyes, “You’re always scary, Nero.”

     “Oh? Well then…” he smiled goofily and pounced onto you; not thinking about how this is the worst thing he could do right now. 

     In a panic, you raised your hands and defended yourself; completely forgetting about Blue Rose (thankfully). Along with your hands, you swung your feet upwards to push him. You grabbed his face with one hand and used the other to shove his chest. In the end, however, Nero was much heavier and larger in his triggered form so you couldn’t move him off of you.

     Nero realized his mistake and stood upright, “Shit-- I didn’t-- I’m sorry,” as he stared his worry only grew worse.

     Your face was pale and you had frozen in place; holding your hand upwards still. With a hard swallow and deep breath, you tried to relax, “Nero, what the fuck..?”

     “I--” his goldenrod eyes were trained on your held-up palm as he slowly re-approached you.

     “Nero?” you were confused and had a bad feeling start to grow once more in your gut; however, this was quickly replaced. 

     The teal demon kneeled in front of you and reached out to your outstretched hand. He held it in his hand with your palm up, “You're bleeding…” 

     You looked down and saw what he meant. On both edges of your hand were matching slices. At first, you were confused about what happened then you looked at Nero. The two spikes on his face had blood streaks along them: you must've nicked yourself when grabbing him. 

     You sighed, “Damn it… I’ll go take care--”

     “Wait,” Nero placed his other hand on your leg, keeping you seated, “I’ve got it.”

     “What--”

     It was too late for you to question him; he had already moved to clean it. His tongue was hot as it ran along the sides of your hand. You wanted to be afraid of him, however, a pleasant chill ran up your spine. Seeing Nero kneeling before you and tending to your wounds; you couldn’t help but wander to tasteful thoughts. 

     “N-Nero,” you stammered, “st-stop.”

     He flicked his eyes to yours and, without breaking eye contact, he took a long lick against your hand. You unconsciously bit your lip at the sight, making him smirk. It was strange seeing Nero with a split tongue; not to mention how well he seemed to be able to use it. You found a distant part of yourself thinking about what else he could do with his longer demonic tongue. After some time, the bleeding stopped.

     The teal devil kissed both gashes and looked up at you with a warm smile, “There, all better.”

     A breathy laugh is all you could muster in response. 

     “Regretting not accepting my offer, huh?” he stood up and had a raised brow.

     “Hah,” despite your confident tone, your face was bright red with embarrassment, “You wish.”

     He eyed you up and down, deciding his next move. Although his mouth was closed, you could see him playing with his tongue in thought. Combine that with his glazed-over stare, you squirmed at your perverse thoughts. 

     Nero’s eyes met yours as he leaned forwards, connecting his lips to your forehead, “It’s late, you should get some rest,” he stood back up and watched you begin to pout.

     “I thought you said you’d stay with me?” you gave him the best puppy dog eyes that you could.

     He opened his mouth slightly as if he were going to say something, but quickly closed them with a shake of his head. Without answering you, Nero moved closer. His hands sat on your hips as he picked you up.

     A surprised squeak left your lips as you wrapped yourself around him--or at least the best you could. You noticed how warm he was and found that your eyes had begun to blink slower and slower. Nero carried you up to his room and gently laid you on his mattress. 

     Although you were laying back, you saw a bright blue flash of light come from your partner and moved to one side; allowing him to lay beside you. However, he didn’t join you.

     “Where are you going?” you leaned up on your elbows and saw him on his phone.

     “Hm?” he looked over at you, “Oh-- I was just telling Nico that we aren’t going to that job--at least not till later,” he jumped onto the mattress beside you, bouncing you a little.

     With a bright smile, you chuckled at the ‘childish’ action of the young hunter, “You sure that--” you turned on your side to look at him and were met with him staring at you. A blush began to creep across your face once more as you stared back. 

     Nero and you have known each other for a long time, but you’d never gotten this close to his face; at least not for very long. Your lips parted slightly as you counted the plethora of colors within his irises. Those said sea-green eyes were flipping between your eyes and lips; waiting for a sign of acceptance or denial. 

     You pursed your lips as you noticed it, heart skipping a beat. A breath hitched in your throat as you copied his flickering sight. Nero moved closer to you, putting himself as close to you without touching you as he could. Without thinking, you moved closer and closed the gap between your bodies. He put one of his hands on your side, ghosting his fingers down it. 

     A sly smile adorned Nero’s face as he heard your trembling breath at his touch. It wasn't clear who moved in first, but the next thing you knew is that Nero’s lips were intertwined with yours. The kiss was slow and steady, kind and loving, sweet and innocent, completely pure. It didn’t last too long before you both broke it off, however, your faces stayed close together. 

     With a voice as soft as silk, Nero spoke, “You know,” he smiled and nuzzled his nose against yours, “I really wanted this.”

     You sighed contently, “Me too.”

     The two of you reconnected lips. The young man pushed his lips harder into yours and moved his hand from your side to your face, cupping it. Admittedly, Nero wasn’t the best at kissing but he was trying. It made you smile as you both continued to give each other gentle pecks. You took your hand and knead his side. 

     Nero whispered in between kisses, “God,” his voice gave you goosebumps, “I love you,” he moved his hand down your body and grasped your hips. 

     He moved his kisses down your jawline, “I love you, too,” you felt his teeth gently graze your neck, “Nero..!”

     A strangled moan left your lips as he bit down on your neck. Once he felt it was dark enough, he placed a gentle elongated kiss on it and whispered; quietly enough that you barely heard him, “mine...”

     Before you could respond, he shoved you over and pinned you beneath him. You cocked your head slightly, “Am I now?”

     He stared at you for a moment and smiled sheepishly, “I didn’t think you heard that…”

     “It’s nice, you know?” you placed a hand on his arm, “To know that…” you laughed slightly, “that you want me that badly, Nero.” 

     The teal devil laid on top of you with his head on your chest, “More than I can explain.”

     You ran your fingers through his hair and noticed something odd, “Nero?”

     “Hm?” he rubbed his head against you.

     “This is going to sound stupid but are-- are you purring? ” you felt overwhelmingly stupid asking him something like that; there’s no way that--

     “Mhm,” the sound got louder and his voice got quieter with every word, “It’s cause I’m happy…”

     “Oh--” you ran your hand down the side of his face, “It’s nice.”

     “Yeah?” he looked up at you without moving his head from its spot, “It’s only for you, babe.”

     However, you didn’t respond. Nero looked up fully at you and noticed you were already fast asleep. A large smile decorated his face as he set his head back down. Resting easy, knowing that whatever frightening devils you might face that he would be right there to protect you

===

I don't know why, but I really wanted some Nero fluff ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 🧸💞🧸 What is currently in the works: Valentine's Devil: Dante x Male Reader (hopefully will be done by 2/14/23) Phantoms of the Past: Vergil x Reader What do you Call Me?: Vergil x Male Reader Tainted Purity: Vergil x Reader Stubborn and Old: Vergil x Reader … Yes I know that there are a lot of Vergil stories… lmao 🧸💞🧸 Also, I have to ask: do y'all like fluff or smut more? I don't know what y'all would rather want; I personally don't mind either way.

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[sochawrites]

Insecurity of secure embrace

Michael Myers x reader

TW: weight gain, mentions of blood

I didn't have a specific version in mind.

Part of Silent Love collection

As the sun finally peeked through your curtains, you groaned in annoyance. You were awake long before this moment, but your eyes preferred the comfort of the darkness around.

No matter, there was no reason to stay in bed any longer. He wasn't here.

You swung your legs over the edge of your mattress, careful not to step on the empty take-out boxes, and walked to the window in hopes to see him in the backyard, staring back, but that was merely a wish, one that did not come true. You steadied yourself against the windowsill, knuckles turning white, fighting back the stinging tears. The shape of Haddonfield was on his killing spree for the last month, which, as devastating as it was for the city, was even more to you and your psyche. 

You were sharing your living space with Michael Myers for almost three years and you got used to his outings very quickly, it was like having a very outdoor-loving cat, but ever since you two showed the feelings you were holding towards each other, his tours were taking longer and longer. You didn't mind at first, knowing he probably needed his personal space and time to regain some sense of being in a romantic relationship, and after all, he always came back, relatively unharmed, and often would fall back to his usual schedule for some time, but every time the span turned over a week, something inside you always broke.

It started small, your mind creating more and more scenarios of his demise, or of him being taken away from you, simple nightmares you could cope with on your own, but they turned into dread after some time, leaving you severely anxious every time he left the sanctuary of your home for too long. You have tried many things to get rid of these thoughts, new hobbies, exercising, housework, but nothing worked and over time you decided to give up and settled on eating comfort food whenever you started to spiral again. 

Making your way to the kitchen, you stopped in front of a mirror. You looked like shit. Not that it surprised you too much, you looked the same yesterday, and the day before yesterday as well. A mess of hair, dark shadow circles under your bloodshot eyes, puffy nose and chapped, dry lips, but the biggest eyesore to you was the exposed plush skin of your midsection, uncovered by the rolled-up t-shirt, once nicely fitting, now starting to be a bit too tight to be comfortable. 

You hated it. You hated the fact that you let yourself go like this. You hated that you didn't stop with the emotional eating when you first noticed the result of your habits. You hated that he never seemed to notice. You hated that he never comforted you, that he wasn't there at the moment to comfort you, you hated that he wasn't there. You HATED him. No, that wasn't that, you LOVED him, this wasn't Michael's fault, it was your doing, you're the one to blame...

So there you stood, spiralling further and deeper with new hateful thoughts, eyes burning a hole in the reflection of your hand slowly running over the soft, dough-like flesh of your gut, tears overflowing and silently falling down your cheeks.

So there he stood, watching you from between the door frame, head tilting in curiosity, but you were too occupied with your reflection to notice. It didn't take Michael long to figure out what was on your mind. It wasn't like he never noticed the change in your body, one could say he even noticed sooner than you, he might have found it somewhat cute somewhere deep within his mind, but if anything, he just did not care for it, and he assumed you didn't either. Looks like he was wrong for once.

In an attempt to turn your attention away, Michael knocked with his still bloody knife on the metal rim, almost chuckling as you jerked at the sound. You turned around, wide-eyed from the surprise of seeing him. "Micheal! Oh my- you scared me! How long have you been standing here?" you asked, not exactly expecting an answer from the head-tilting man, "Come, you must be hungry, I was about to make breakfast.". Putting on a smile for him and wiping your tears, you walked towards the door he was standing in.

Keep it cool, it's not his problem, it's not like he would care anyway. 

You expected him to move out of the way, but he instead closed the distance between your bodies, catching your shoulders and keeping you still, even though your body jumped at the sudden touch. You looked up at the shape, his head now tilted to the other side. Did he truly want to know? He had never done this before.

"Michael, I-... Just... let's just eat first, please, I- I will tell you, but... later" you stumbled over your words, emotion set in overload. He briefly squeezed your shoulders before you pulled away. "I missed you..." you whispered as you passed around the man. 

You opted for making scrambled eggs. They were quick and easy, not to mention one of the very few things that were in your freezer. Michael, of course, was soon hot on your trail, stepping aside only to discard his knife in the sink. The smell of dry blood started to get a bit overwhelming for your taste, "Michael, could you go and change into something less bloody? I'll wait for you at-", there was no need to continue the sentence, he was already on his way upstairs. It was rare for him to do as you told him, usually taking quite some persuading to do something he didn't want to. Maybe you could get him to shower too. He needed a shower... You both needed a shower.

Michael was back way sooner than you anticipated, standing so close behind you that he practically trapped you in between him and the stove. Yet, he tried to move even closer, leaving no space for you to step aside, his body heat intoxicating every inch of your being. You couldn't help but lean on him.

He took that as an invitation, a confirmation, that he could indeed get a little intimate with you. At least in his own way. His head laying on top of yours, unmoving and steadily breathing. The smell of latex enveloped you, it was so familiar, so comforting in a strange way. 

You raised your hand out of reflex to the back of his head, massaging the spot under the mask. That was something he was waiting for, you easing up enough to leave space for his little plan to work.

He sneaked his hands around your waist, careful not to touch and alert you of his action. Then, he slowly tightened his hold. Your whole body froze once you realized what was going on. "Michael..." was all you could muster out and he still shushed you with a grunt. 

You decided to pull the pan from the heat. This was going to take a long time.

So there the two of you stood, both perfectly still. You, hungrily watching your breakfast getting cold, and him, calculating the right moment to advance to the next phase of his scheme. 

Michael moved his head a bit, his masked nose now buried in your hair. He couldn't smell a thing except for the odour of latex, he just wished he brought you some sort of ease with it. You pushed your head a little more back to try and erase the space between. A good sign for Michael, now the last part.

Michael's arms wrapped around you, hands resting on the opposite sides of your waist. Though you were a bit squished, it felt... nice, safe, even. That is until the feeling of a soft lingering touch moving up and down on your doughty flesh, sometimes sliding under your t-shirt too. Your breath hitched at the contact, you wanted to jump out of your skin, but Michael hold you tight.

Any attempt at speaking was thereafter shushed with deep growls, you had to calm down once more. It wasn't that bad, yet, it still felt weird, as if the skin around these places didn't belong to you, but, you could get used to it.

Sighting in defeat, you loosened a bit more in his hold, letting Micheal know he could take full control as if he hadn't had it already. And that's when you heard it. Or at least you thought you did. The faintest little whisper, its voice strained and rough. 

"Pretty."

[angustully]

hiiii wrote my first fic in 2 years <3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/58692895

[virenkinnie]

what’s up guys i’m back at it with another epic awesome au!! on todays menu we have an au i literally forgot about for 2 years until today 👅👅

it’s a “what-if” type of thing where callum leaves without a word to study magic instead of rayla leaving to find viren, and rayla and ezran kinda tweak out and spend those two years looking for him. very fun! i will make an actual storyline soon but for now i’m just fucking around with some silly doodles

[flywolfwriting]

Throw Me in the Deep End

Charlie was proud to say she was not afraid of the dark. It certainly impressed the other seven-year-olds in her class, and her parents always told her how proud they were that she had conquered that fear so young. That she was so brave for sleeping without a night light. 

It was even mostly true. She could sleep in her own room, and could sneak about the manor in the middle of the night without her heart in her throat, but sometimes it still quickened, and if she looked out the windows her breath caught. She was still only seven, after all, and it was a big, scary world beyond the safety of the manor walls. 

It took her time to settle into their New Orleans holiday home. She learned the creaking of the walls and the whispering of the wind, grew accustomed to the way shadows cloaked her temporary bedroom. She kept the curtains open for just that small glimmer of moonlight and buried her head under her blankets to keep from looking outside. 

She didn't say anything to her parents, though, not even when her mom woke her before sunrise to take her on an early-morning walk. They drove for ages with Charlie napping in the backseat, until her mom pulled over and told her they'd arrived. Charlie hugged close to her, but put on a brave face when Lilith led her into the bayou. She protested only a little when directed to stay put for a moment, her plea cut off with a firm, "You're mommy's brave little girl, aren't you?" 

Charlie wanted so badly to be so she nodded and did as asked. She watched her mother disappear into the darkness and waited. 

And waited.

And kept waiting. 

The song of the bayou played around Charlie and her trembling fingers clutched the hem of her shirt tightly as she tried not to imagine glowing eyes creeping closer around her, silent tears streaking her cheeks. 

Finally she could take it no more and with a sob she raced back the way they'd come. 

"Mommy!"

—---------------------

Alastor loved nights like this, when the shadows clung to him like cobwebs and the crescent moon offered just enough light to avoid stepping into the alligator-infested waters. He could see the glint of their eyes watching as he dumped the duffle bag and opened it. They moved closer but didn't creep onto the small finger of land he stood on. They simply waited, and when he threw the first limb into the water they struck, the still bayou turning into churning bodies fighting for meat. 

Alastor threw the next piece, quietly humming as he watched them feed. This was almost the best part, second only to the moment blood welled under his fingers and his victim realized they were about to die. He kept the best cuts to himself, of course, but the gators seemed to appreciate his treats all the same. 

When he finished he loaded the bag with soil before tossing it in, tucked his gloves back into his pocket, and set off with a spring in his step. 

That was when he heard the sob.

Alastor froze, listening carefully. The bayou was full of strange sounds but he had learned them all, knew each creak of wood, the splash of an alligator sliding into the water, the hum of every insect. He slipped into the shadow between the trees and waited, his knife at the ready. They weren't truly deep within the bayou itself; he couldn't risk the noise of a boat. It was plausible someone had followed him. 

What came next was a greater shock: a child, a little girl, stumbling into view. 

No, they weren't deep, but dawn had yet to crack the sky and they weren't near any roads. 

Alastor resisted a sigh and tucked his knife back into its sheath against his thigh and stepped out. 

The girl let out a short scream and fled.

“Wait-” Alastor called, then took off after her. He couldn't see her anymore but he heard her footsteps, another short scream, and the expected splash as she fell into the water. 

And then a more familiar kind of splash.

Read More

Next Part