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keeroo92 · 5 years ago

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Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch21 (V x Reader)

Chapter 21 - All Laid Bare

Lemon warning :D

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The second you have V out of view of your friends, your mouth is on his with a low whine. His hands pull you closer, closer, as if he’s trying to pull you into his body. You weave your fingers in his and break your kiss to pull him farther down the long hallway, giggling as your pace increases to a clumsy run in excitement. V can’t help but grin like an idiot as he follows behind, joyful at your happiness.

You tug him past the library and beam lasciviously at the memory, the image sending a ball of heat to your stomach. You tug at V’s hand, making him stumble as he’s forced to catch up to you. You push his tattooed body against the wall with a growl and tug at the strings of his vest as you kiss him again.

I hate this thing… such a pain to get it off!

Somehow you manage to loosen the strings and you shove the heavy leather out of your way to kiss his stomach, his hand drifting to fist your hair as his head lolls back against the wall with a long moan. You leave a trail of blazing kisses on his skin, nipping gently here and there. You reach his neck and he forcefully pulls your face to his, lips crashing together like waves on a beach. You open to him, craving his unique flavor and the caress of his tongue and he eagerly obliges you.

Are we still in the hallway…?

You pull away and frown at the realization that you really shouldn’t rip his clothes off and mount him right here, right now. You take his hand again and reach the end of the hallway, pushing open the doors on both sides. One reveals what seems to be Dante’s room, messy and cluttered, but the other is a portal to a pristine guest room just begging to be ruined. You grin and push V in before you, roughly slamming the door closed as you step across the threshold.

I’m going to drive him crazy tonight…

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Your hands shoot to his ribs, tearing at his vest like an animal. You bare your teeth and growl in frustration as it doesn’t immediately drop to the floor, but he’s all too happy to help and suddenly his chest is bare and you’re kissing his stomach again and your hands are setting his skin on fire and his hands are in your hair and his pants are gone and he can’t think, the things your mouth is doing –

Oooohhhh…. Fuck, she’s good at that…!

He whimpers as your mouth leaves his cock, and you lick it once more with a smirk as you rise and pull off your shirt, your bra falling to the floor in almost the same motion.

“So beautiful…” he murmurs as your skin is bared to his hungry gaze, and suddenly it’s not enough to just look, he has to touch you.

He closes the gap between you with a single stride, his hands on your waist instantly as the two of you stumble your way to the bed. You gasp his name breathily and he grinds against you, his hard length easily slipping between your thighs and rubbing against you teasingly. He plants his full lips against yours, your flavor driving him absolutely wild as he leans over you, carefully laying you down on the soft blankets. You turn your head to the side, breaking his kiss and he looks at you in confusion for a moment.

“No, my poet, I want you under me tonight…” you tell him with a slight blush. He quirks an eyebrow at you, daring you to make your will a reality.

You surge against him, the sudden movement toppling him over onto the bed and rolling you atop him. He adapts quickly with a lopsided grin, rolling his hips into you the moment his back hits the bed and you let out a delicious whine, feeling him through the thin fabric of your pants. His hand traces the edge of your bandage, the injury seemingly not bothering you in the slightest tonight and you smile down at him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” you whisper as you stand, hands roughly shoving your pants to the floor. He quirks an eyebrow when he sees a flash of red as you precariously climb over his body. His emerald gaze takes in the image of you straddling him, a sharp bolt of electricity shooting down his spine to his hips and coming to rest there. His eyes follow the curves of your body down and he licks his lips as he sees the lacy panties you’re wearing.

I’ve just discovered my favorite color is red…

“I wore them just for you, V,” you murmur, “Do you want me to leave them on?”

Fuck, yes!

He moans it out loud and that wonderful smile he loves so damn much graces your face. Your hands carefully shift the fabric to the side and you grind against him, both of you letting out a guttural moan at the blessed friction and the wet sound it makes. V watches in awe as you drag his long fingers to your core, the meaning plain. He smirks as he dips a finger inside your folds and finds your tiny bundle of nerves waiting for his touch.

He patiently moves his fingers, his hazy mind struggling to remember the exact stroke and pressure you like. Even so, he has you panting above him shortly, his lustful smile growing as your moans increase in pitch. When he knows you’re standing on the knifes edge, he jerks his torso up, his unoccupied arm wrapping around you in a tender embrace to help pull himself up.

In the midst of his passion and intoxication, he can’t bring forth a single line of poetry. The realization only fazes him for an instant before he finds the words within himself.

“Come on, little fox, show me that which is mine alone,” he purrs softly against your chest, just loud enough for you to hear. He takes one of your sweet buds between his full lips, his eyes on yours as he watches your face react to his mouth and his fingertips. The way you moan his name makes him instinctively buck his hips against yours to press his arousal closer to what it craves, a rush more intoxicating than the drinks downstairs pulsing through his veins as you go rigid above him, lips opening in a shuddering moan around the single syllable.

Hundreds of lines of William Blake’s words flash in his mind as he watches you, his memory returning to him in a stream. None of them are adequate, and so again he finds his own words.

“You are poetry in motion, my love. Transcendently beautiful,” he murmurs as you slowly regain your senses. You lean forward, forcing him back down onto the blankets as you give him an angelic smile.

“So many lovely words in you, my poet, yet I’m going to leave you speechless,” you tell him, as if in a promise. He bucks his hips against you again, a low groan escaping him at your words. Your hands go to the center of his warmth, guiding it gently to your core and slowly moving your hips to bring him home. A storm of fireworks begins in his pelvis, the cascading rush of pleasure enough to make him groan as he stretches your walls to their limits as you fully sheath him.

And then you move. You roll your hips, grinding even as you lift and drop down on him again and he cries out your name over and over in a chorus of appreciation for all the things you’re making him feel. He puts his hands on your hips, feeling the motion you’re making and gripping you tightly as he bucks against you in an endless quest to delve ever deeper.

His gasps and low moans fill the air as you continue rocking against him, his emerald eyes watching you move above him joyously. Your own cries mix with his as his hands shift, dipping in to tease your clit with every stroke. He moves his fingertips in the way he knows drives you crazy and a high-pitched whine escapes your throat to reward his efforts.

“Ah, V! Fuck, I’m so close!”

“I’m right behind you, love!”

He accelerates his movements, his flesh slamming against yours in the mess you had made, just for him.

“Tell me you’re mine!” he growls at you, his piercing gaze locked on your own.

“I’m yours, V! I’m all yours!” you cry out, planting your hands on his chest and using the leverage to roll against him even harder somehow, and your words send him tumbling over the edge with a low grunt. His eyes flutter closed as his fingers work your body, a metaphysical pull on your hands as you follow him with a harsh gasp, the two of you pulsing together in your shared ecstasy, your nails digging into his chest as you go rigid.

“I love you!” he shouts hoarsely at the height of his pleasure, his voice almost breaking.

“I love you, too!” you answer him instantly, and a fierce burst of explosive energy fills every fiber of his being, saturating his senses in starlight.

The echoes of your words fade, your body seeming to be made out of constellations for a moment as his vision returns to normal. V sighs happily, the pleasant hum of alcohol still sounding in his mind as he strokes your sides with his thumbs, his fingertips reveling in the softness of your skin. You smile down at him, face still flushed from his attentions as you lean down to rest your form atop his own. Your hair splays across his chest as his hands reach up to stroke it gently, enjoying the simple warmth of this moment.

After a time, he takes a deep breath and rolls you so he can stand. He smirks at the sight of your body displayed on the blankets, your activities evident in the glow on your cheeks and the dripping fluids between your legs and giving him a surge of pride. He commits the image to his memory before searching the room for something to clean you up with.

When V returns, you’re already asleep. A soft smile crosses his lips and he gently moves your body into a more comfortable resting position. He tenderly wipes around your entrance, shifting the lacy panties you had surprised him with back into place once he’s satisfied. The room spins for a moment as he stands up again, but he pushes through it to pull the blankets out from under you and lovingly covers you with the warm fabric. His task done, he stumbles to the other side of the bed and crawls in next to you, his arm automatically wrapping around you and holding you close as his breathing changes into the steady rhythm of sleep.

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June 14th, 10:37 am

You wake with a low groan, already knowing not to open your eyes as the horrible dryness in your mouth hits you. You feel V curled up behind you, his arm draped across your waist lazily.

How much did I drink last night…?

You open one eye and the world does an alarming wiggle as it slowly settles in place. You focus on not moving, steadying your perception as you try to focus.

Too much.

You close your eye again and pull away from V, standing carefully with arms outstretched. Your equilibrium tangles and shifts uncomfortably but you manage to get one hand against the wall, bracing yourself on something you know won’t move. You hear a pained moan from V as he wakes as well and you cringe in sympathy.

“Y/N, I think Urizen might be doing something to me…” he mutters worriedly and you have to stifle a snicker.

“No, V, you have a hangover. It’s normal after drinking as much as we did,” you inform him quietly. You open your eyes slowly and look for your clothes so you can get some water and your backpack from downstairs.

“You have it too?” he asks, and you can almost hear his thoughts, his concern for your well being and his frustration as his own dizziness and nausea that keep him from being able to help you.

“Don’t worry, my sweet poet, I know how to handle it. I’ll be right back,” you tell him reassuringly as you finally spot your pants. Bending over to pick them up is downright sickening as your stomach rolls. You swallow heavily and fight the feeling away, reaching for your shirt a few feet away as well. V grumbles under his breath as you dress carefully, and you smile as you glance over at his darkly tattooed form.

I guess Griffon and Shadow came back at some point?

You mentally shrug as you open the door, hip twinging slightly as you shuffle to the stairs with half-closed eyes. The steps themselves take a long moment as you take your time and grip the railing firmly. You turn toward the kitchen and spot Nero and Nico passed out on the two larger couches. The whiskey bottle on the desk between them is empty and you crack a wry smile as you wonder how long they’ll be out.

You snatch up three bottles of water from the undersupplied kitchen, sighing at the lack of actual dishware and the state of the faded blue cabinetry. On your way back to the stairs you sling your backpack on your shoulders with a grunt, the world spinning for a moment.

“…that you, Y/N?” Nico grumbles softly, not even opening her eyes. You murmur a yes and she smiles as she responds.

“How was Shakespeare last night? He get it up alright or do I need to go punch him?”

You snort at the image, both figures still unable to even open their eyes in your visualization.

“He was perfect, no worries… you guys have fun?” you reply with a light blush.

Nico lets out a throaty chuckle and making a scoffing gesture with one arm. Nero groans from his splayed out pose on his favorite couch, mumbling his beloved fiancé’s name in his sleep.

“Yeah, we had a good time. Griffon was a riot, he wouldn’t shut up about how much V thinks about ya and how annoying it gets. He said some weird shit too, didn’t make any sense… something about a sword and some guy called Victor? Vincent, maybe? I dunno…” she yawns, shifting her weight with a grunt as your eyes widen.

Shit, V’s gonna be so mad! Hopefully Nero didn’t pay too much attention…

“Haha, yeah, that Griffon with his crazy stories!” you force a laugh out uncomfortably and Nico finally opens one bleary eye to look at your concerned face suspiciously.

“There somethin’ I should know about, hon?” she asks you with a raised eyebrow.

You sigh. You want to tell her and Nero so much, they could be a huge help as you try to make V feel human. Friendship and camaraderie could help too, right? Last night V had seemed to enjoy spending time with the whole group, clearly he felt something for them.

It’s not my secret to share.

“I… I can’t tell you. I’d tell you guys if I could but it’s not up to me,” you answer your friend and she nods.

“Right, I’ll go bug your boyfriend about it later, then,” she announces with a scheming smile. You put one of the water bottles into her hand and walk back upstairs to warn V.

Wait, did she just call him my BOYFRIEND?!

You stop in your tracks at the top of the stairs, thoughtful. The idea felt strange somehow, the term insufficient to describe your relationship with the poet. You try to think of a better word as you shuffle down the long hallway back to the guest room where V waited for you.

Lover? No, that’s not right… Definitely not friends with benefits… Spouse is too official, though I could see myself calling him my husband someday.

The image of V in a fancy tux, waiting at the end of an aisle with a broad smile makes your heart jump as it thrums its approval of the idea. You beam happily, looking forward to the time when you could just enjoy being with him without all this nonsense hanging over your heads. True, it may have pulled you together and forced you two to bond faster than if you’d met in other circumstances, but it would be nice to go on an actual date with him. See a movie. Grab dinner. Go stargazing. Spend far too much money in a bookstore. See an opera.

The perfect term for him sparks into existence as you envision going to the Red Grave Opera House with V, his cane a perfect complement to an old-fashioned suit.

Partner. V is my partner, in all things now.

I will not let him die.

You reach the door with determination and tenacity flowing in your mind and push the door open to see V lying in bed still, his mouth agape as he breathes deeply. His obsidian hair a dark mass on the white pillow, tattoos accentuating the planes of his body beautifully.

You set the water bottles on the nightstand, dropping the backpack on the foot of the bed as you shakily sit next to him, reaching out to brush his hair reverently. He moans, a small smile tugging at his lips as he blinks open his emerald eyes to look at you fondly. You stroke his hair a moment longer, enjoying the silky texture as you always do before you sit back to dig through your bag. A moment later you hold out two small white tablets to him with a bottle of water and he downs them quickly, draining the bottle completely in his thirst.

You do the same and lie back down with him, content to let the worst of the hangover pass quietly.

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June 14th, 12:18 pm

V, wake up.

…what?

Come on, Shakespeare, I hear something weird…

V forces his heavy lids open with a sigh, knowing he won’t get any respite from the mouthy avian until he deals with whatever is going on. He feels much better than he had, but his limbs still shake slightly as he stands. You aren’t in bed anymore and judging by the voices coming from downstairs something is definitely going on. He hurriedly dresses, not bothering with his vest in his rush to make sure you are alright.

His hands tingle as he steps out the door, itching to let loose a cloud of black shards as his lengthy strides eat the distance to the stairs quickly. He takes the stairs two at a time, hearing your voice from nearby sounding distressed.

“Nero, I can’t! Stop asking, my answer isn’t going to change!”

His blood boils at the words, his mind racing to guess at what Nero had done to get you in such a state.

Did he say something rude? Did he touch her? I’ll tear him to pieces if he did…

V… I don’t think –

I don’t care.

V visualizes his mind as a steel box and closes the lid, leaving Griffon and his other summons outside in an attempt to block out their protests at the direction of his thoughts.

“Just STOP!”

V rounds the corner into the kitchen with a snarl on his lips, arm already stretched forward to let loose his fury as his heart thunders in his chest angrily, having no patience for whatever had made you so upset. The markings on his bare chest writhe as his adrenaline-dilated eyes take in the scene instantly.

You and Nero are sitting side by side at the counter, Nero leaning forward as if pressing a point and you with your arms crossed defensively over your chest as you arch as far back as you could without physically standing up. Nico is nowhere to be seen. As V growls both you and Nero turn to look at him, you with relief and Nero with confusion.

He drops his arm when he realizes you aren’t in any physical danger, his chest heaving as he reigns in his anger.

“What’s going on?” V murmurs as he stalks up to your side to wrap a comforting arm around your shoulders. You look up at him with something akin to fear in your beautiful eyes as you answer.

“Griffon… spilled a few beans last night to Nero and Nico. I was trying to tell him it’s not my secret to share,” you answer hesitantly.

The steel box of his mind flies open and he hurls his thoughts at Griffon.

What did you tell them?

I… I don’t remember! Something about the sword? I might’ve mentioned Vergil?

V pinches the bridge of his nose wearily, considering how best to proceed. He still doesn’t want to tell the whole story; the weight of it was supposed to be his alone to bear.

It seems that choice has been taken from me.

“V, please… just tell him. He might be able to help somehow,” you beg him, the pleading tone touching him somehow and forcing him to accept that it was time to come clean, time to unburden himself. For you.

“Where is Nico? I don’t want to tell the tale twice,” V states simply, and Nero’s eyes go wide as if he had been expecting the lean man to refuse to be honest. He exchanges a glance with you and stands.

“I’ll get her,” the young warrior declares as he stomps out of the room.

The moment Nero is out of earshot, you turn to V with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, I tried to tell them to leave it alone but Nero won’t let it go and Nico was planning on pestering you later to find out anyway, and I wanted you to –“

V cuts off your rambling with a quick peck on your soft lips.

“It’s alright, love. You did nothing wrong. Thank you for trying,” he mumbles with a soft smile, and you lean into his arm in relief. The two of you wait in silence for a long moment until Nero returns, Nico a half step behind him, grinning like she just found a golden shotgun. They settle in to listen and V clears his throat, launching into the tale once again.

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To the man’s credit, Nero had only punched him once. And not very hard, either, thankfully. V knows if the young man had been trying he could have easily broken his jaw. Still, the blood flowing from where his now sore teeth had cut his cheek has only just now stopped flowing. You hold an ice pack to the area as you finish his tale for him, including your own theories about how to prevent his death. You fall silent, and none of the four of them dare to speak for a long moment as the story sinks in.

Nico is the first to speak, of course.

“So, we’re gonna save him with the power of friendship? Are you fucking serious?” she asks you with an incredulous look.

“Well, not exactly… but I suppose if you boil it down, that’s a fair assessment,” you answer slowly, cringing slightly. Nico stares long and hard into V’s emerald eyes before speaking again.

“If she didn’t love you, you’d be screwed. I don’t like that you didn’t tell us till now, either,” she informs the lean poet before looking back at you again with a smile.

“I’ll help however I can,” she concludes. V lets out a soft sigh of relief as Nico pats your shoulder before walking away.

Off to work on some new contraption no doubt.

Both you and V look to Nero. He hasn’t said a word since he punched V in the face, sitting stoically as he listened to the rest of the story. His blue eyes are steely, lips pressed together firmly as he ponders all the new information. Finally the young warrior scratches the back of his neck in his signature gesture of discomfort, letting out a sigh as he gathers his thoughts.

“You do realize how much of this plan is guesswork, right?” he asks you softly, and you nod in response.

Nero pauses again, his eyes flashing as he turns to face V.

“You ripped off my arm and left me in a pool of my own blood,” he accuses with a glare. V clenches his jaw, swallowing his irritation carefully before it gets out of control.

“I am half of that man, yes,” he states calmly.

“And if this half-assed plan doesn’t work, he’ll be back?”

“That is the assumption we’re operating under,” V articulates, not breaking eye contact with Nero in an attempt to show the rash young man his honesty.

“And if it works, Urizen dies and Vergil can’t come back?” he questions.

“Again, we assume so,” V confirms earnestly.

Nero holds out a hand and V grasps it firmly with a shake.

“I’m in,” the white-haired warrior says with a smirk.

#dmc5 v #dmc5 #dmc #v x reader #v x you #fanfic #op #reader insert #SBHS #my writing #lemon #spicy

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