#Nero Sparda x Reader

[lvmimis]

cw: reader used to live in fortuna and defected after the events of dmc4. female reader has magic that will be described.

You can think of quite a few reasons why Nero is looking at you with a lack of ease at the very moment - 

He’s not exactly sure if he remembers you but the disaffected look you give him is less indifferent and more distasteful (you can’t help this despite your best efforts).

He does remember you and your association with Agnus has him reconsidering whether or not he should kill you.

He has no idea where to direct his eyes at the moment.

The two of you are seated face to face, and in chairs beside the two of you, his uncle, the legendary Demon Hunter Dante Sparda, and your mentor are engaged in a conversation that is perhaps a little too flirtatious for comfort. She leans forward, elbows propping her head up, with fists pressed into round cheeks not unlike a schoolgirl, and Dante practically disgusts you with the watery, love-filled way he looks at her, leaned in with nearly the same pose. 

The four of you are supposed to be discussing a joint mission, but they happen to be philandering with each other, and after ten minutes of awkward silence, you clear your throat to redirect the course of this conversation.

“So what exactly is our aim again?” you say, loudly. The two older adults in the room do not seem to respond to the sound of your voice initially, and Nero, ever so helpful (or desperate to dispel the ominous aura seeping from your skin), nudges Dante in the ribs.

Dante takes your mentor’s hand in his and presses it to his lips, and for a moment, you truly consider using your sealing magic to incapacitate everyone in the room and return to your television show. Possibly sensing your distress, Nero nudges Dante a second time to bring him back down to earth, harder on this attempt, with his chair squeaking loudly under him with the movement, and Dante gives him a look.

“Can you two please concentrate?” you hiss.

Your mentor smiles as her fingers feather out of his hold. Dante rolls his eyes for a moment, but he’s playful once he looks back at her, and she clears her throat, arranging yellowed sheets of paper in front of her into a stack.

The air in the room resets, and you let out a deep breath before speaking anew to recapitulate.

“So if I am to understand this correctly, Nero-” you don’t look at him while pronouncing his name, but you can feel his attention a little too focused on you-  “is meant to escort me back to Fortuna Castle, to seal the remainder of the ruins of Agnus’ lab. Nearly two entire years later.”

Your eyes snap back in his direction. It’s a challenge, and remarkably he no longer looks away - in fact, he appears less uncomfortable now, as if he’s settled into his current predicament, that you are not particularly fond of him for a reason he doesn’t entirely know.

“And why didn’t you burn down the rest?” you ask.

“Because there was no need to and-”

“And?” you start, too harshly.

He frowns for a moment, then his eyebrows furrow, rising to your irritation. “I assumed you would have done it considering that’s what you claimed to be doing back then. Getting rid of the research for good.”

For a moment, annoyance sparks within you and you can feel the runes inscribed on your wrists start to warm in response to your emotional state.

“So this is my fault?” An eyebrow raises.

“Well that’s not what he-” your mentor starts, but you give her a defiant look, and she sighs. You don’t speak further, and Dante breaks the sudden silence with a laugh, leaning back in his seat. As he adjusts into his relaxed stance, his boots find their way on the table and you grimace. Your teacher waves her hand at him; he pouts and she somehow decides it’s not worth the trouble. Nero twists his mouth to the side and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” he finally says. “We just have a job to do and we can do it.”

You shift your eyes to your mentor.

“And it can’t be just Dante and you?”

She shrugs. “I don’t have sealing magic, now do I? There appears to be a gate and while I can probably sus it out, it’s not guaranteed that we’ll be able to close it.”

“And it can’t just be the three of us?” you add, looking at Dante.

Dante shrugs and you grit your teeth.

“Hey, do you have a problem with me that I need to know about?” Nero interrupts.

You don’t.

In your mind’s eye, you quickly recall every time you’ve encountered Nero as you lurked through the grounds of the cathedral in your youth, all up to your disappearance a year ago.

You’ve never had a problem with him. You barely know each other - or rather, you know him, but he barely knows you.

Somehow, he’s easy to describe through all your encounters, as you have always, in some way, been watching ever since the day you first met as children - an isolated instant he doesn’t remember. 

A young boy running past you, barely noticing his brush against your arm that practically has your small body spinning - a yelled somewhat sympathetic ‘Sorry’ all that’s left of him, as you steady yourself on your feet. 

The only Holy Knight that has ever stood out to you as you spent your days in solitude, inscribing laws and reciting scriptures and sealing away artifacts as per the directions of the Order leaders.

You can admit, the fascination first began once you gazed upon the troops and caught the similarity between the then page-boy and the god you supposedly served in the light of noon, but it solidified as you began to record the feats in battle.

Surely, this is a descendant of Sparda.

Veiled, you tried to spend a few heavily monitored moments saying a word to him, to make your presence known, but as always, he was polite but gone faster than you could say a word, unable to even take a good look at your face.

You may have always been something nondescript to him, no different than the other hundreds of veiled nuns and holy women in the castle, but your mind lists off adjectives to characterize him as readily as you can recite every ingredient in Agnus’ alchemical formulas.

Noisy. Uncouth. Hot-headed. Irreverent. Responsible. Strong. Handsome. Sweet. Desperately in love with the pretty songstress, younger sister of the former leader of the Order of the Sword.

(His sister as well, supposedly, you soon learned.)

To admit that a large part of your ire stems from desire would be painfully immature. As the pang of rejection fades, so will your annoyance, you’d told yourself.

But Nero inquires a response from you directly, right now.

“I don’t have a problem with you,” you repeat. “I look forward to working together.”

You rise to your feet quickly, bow and leave the room.

—

“___.”

The three raps on your door can be none other than hers.

Your door opens and even if you’re less than enthused by the fact that you have to pack light for travel tomorrow morning, you can’t be upset seeing her smiling face.

“I’m surprised you’re not sucking face with Dante. It must be hard for you to see each other, right?”

She gives you a knowing nod, hands behind her back as she finds her way towards your bed. Sitting down and patting the seat next to her, you can already tell she’s about to scold you.

“Listen, I know I was-”

“Did you use sealing magic on yourself?” she asks.

You blink rapidly, then quickly come up with a half-truth to tell.

“I don’t know what you mean but it’s not like I’ve never done it just to make it easier to not tell a secret or…”

You trail off, warmth in your cheeks. She watches you, tilting her head as she takes in the rising shame welling in your chest.

“I just didn’t want to cause any problems,” you finally admit, in a small voice.

She nods.

“How long has it been?”

You bite your lip.

“Maybe five years now… six?”

She practically balks at you at your response.

“Sheesh. That bad?”

The slow growing warmth blazes hot.

“It wasn’t that big when I made the decision!” you hiss. “It probably isn’t that big now.”

She crosses her legs, and taps her chin for a moment.

“I don’t know. Usually suppressed feelings only fester and grow stronger over time,” she says. You purse your lips and she smiles.

“It’s your decision to do whatever you want with how you feel, but I think if you go back and check, maybe it’s not as small as you think it is.”

She’s back on her feet in a moment, quick to return to her lover you figure, and she smiles.

“I think you might be leaking through actually.”

With that, she’s gone leaving you to wait.

—

In the depth of the night, you find that you cannot sleep. Perhaps it’s the anticipation of what’s to come during your final return to Fortuna or the always present risk of death whenever you live a life that has to do with devils and demons and the occult.

Something does nag at your chest, and as you think through it, you can feel your runes begin to itch as they glow.

Perhaps you should peek, as your mentor said.

The metaphorical Pandora’s box creaks open for just a second, and what you see has you gasp.

It closes just as quickly.

What was once a simple crush has festered into something a lot less manageable, as she suspected. You tie the chains just as tightly, hoping she’s simply just astute, and nothing else seeps through.

[shiraishi-mitsuki]

pov：You've been watching Nero

[mannequinreligi0n]

How The DMC Boys Eat Out

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

WARNINGS: NSFW! - oral (female receiving)

WORD COUNT: ~150 per person

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

DANTE

Dante’s a busy man but what does he always make time for? Dessert. Though it’s not often you get dedicated alone time, Dante has made it a habit to at least reward you for sticking by his side as often as possible. This usually has you seated atop his desk, hands grasping at bills and work permits, as he sits before you in his beaten leather chair. Hungry and eager, he’ll kitten-lick at your hole ensuring that he’s tasting every single drop of arousal that leaks out. Dante’s a pleaser at heart, meaning he’ll go til his jaw locks or you yank him off of you. But until that point, he’ll make sure to mutter praise and sweet nothings in your heat, making you twitch and squirm. When he’s not holding your hips down, he’ll switch off between pumping digits or his tongue into you, knowing the right combination to make anyone unlucky enough to be at the agency hear you cry out his name til you lose all capability of intelligent speak.

“So wet - just for me, sugarplum. M’gonna make sure you can’t walk after this.”

VERGIL

Unlike his twin, Vergil appreciates more calculated encounters, rather than spontaneous ones. Ambience is very important to him; he’ll make sure that everything leading up to the moment is just right. Candles, wine, and soft sonatas playing in the background - all leading up to get you seated above him, thighs nearly squeezing his head into the mattress. The crude act of face-sitting is made into a poetic one when Vergil is under you. Methodical tongue movements and cherry lips sucking the life out of you make your hands grip the headboard with unbeknownst strength. Calloused hands will knead into your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles in an attempt to calm your jolting above him. Vergil has spent years mastering the art of patience and playing the long-game. He’ll make sure to draw out every single second til your legs give out. Aftercare is a biggie for him, holding you to his chest and praising your behavior to calm your pounding heart.

“Don’t mock me, little one. When I say sit, I mean sit.”

NERO

Nero is the happy-medium of the trio. Whether it’s quickies in the van or the good ol’ ‘wined and dined’, he’ll make sure that you are his number one priority. If there’s one thing Nero loves, though, it’s getting to stay in bed with you on his day off. Tired kisses and slow petting will eventually lead to Nero disappearing under the covers to take post between your legs. Inside the cocoon of blankets, Nero will lazily drag his fingers over your sensitive folds before anchoring his mouth to your bud. Gentle flicks of his tongue timing to the pump of his two fingers buried in you to the knuckle. Intermittently, his mouth will detach from you and trail kisses along your inner thighs and navel, whispering how good you taste and how much he loves you. He won’t emerge from his hideout until you’ve came - peeking out of the covers to kiss you sweetly, the taste of yourself prominent on his lips.

“There you go, let it out. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

[ariseur]

could i request a slight suggestive makeout session with Nero?

you suppressed the urge to tug at your collar, desperate for even just a puff of air as nero’s body heat travelled between the two of you while he caged you in on the couch. it definitely didn’t help that demons particularly run hot, even if nero was only had quarter of demon coursing through his blood.

your hands found their way to his hair, tangling themselves in short rough strands painted like snowfall as a groan hitched in the back of his throat at the feeling. you felt his sharp exhales on your skin as his hand came to grasp at your waist, desperately pawing at the fabric of your thin shirt and scrunching the material in his hands.

his lips moved on yours in a sloppy rhythm albeit you didn’t mind, for what he lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm. nero’s lips chased yours at any given moment, reveling in the feeling of your hand on the back of his neck to pull him in closer while your legs wrapped around his lower back. your heels pressed down as your hips dangerously bucked up into his, causing him to let out a small groan. the only reason the sound came out was because of the small gap that was left between the corners of your lips due to the utter sloppiness of his assault on your lips, otherwise nero‘s moan would be muted in the periodic strings of noises of both of your lips connecting, barely taking breaks for air.

you pressed the back of your head against the cushion of the couch, experimentally rolling your hips once as you pulled away. hearing nero’s sweet sighs was music to your ears, and you definitely noticed the way his lips tried to chase yours, painted and bruised with a cherry red and coated with saliva.

a small whine emitted from his lips as he opened his eyes, painted a similar color to the midwinter sky. and in that moment, you almost whimpered yourself at the proximity of how close you were to him. his scent engulfed you, a familiar smell of a rich musk that always made you perk up when you smelled something similar in public, your mind instantly reeling back to your lover.

your noses practically brushed together as your breaths mingled, although they were more like quickened pants rather than breaths.

and then, you both smiled. you admired the way nero’s eyebrows furrowed and the outer corners of his eyes crinkled while he grinned at you, obviously satisfied as his eyes raked across from lips to your collarbone, looking over his fine work of love bites and kisses. somehow he looked so ethereal above you, even in such an intimate position with a hard on against your thigh, he still possessed that boyish charm.

“you gonna keep kissing me or what?” was all you needed before you gripped his hair again and slammed your lips back onto his. you two didn’t need anymore words as you felt his lips curl into a smile against yours. you struggled to fight the urge to open and roll your eyes at his antics. boy, did he annoy you sometimes, but boy, did you love it.

[swetearss]

it's not fair that there are so few fics of my favorite white boys 😭

[phonkscribes]

Even if you don't think so.

@mamster-gagglebucks has sent a letter:

Hey, first off I love your writing so dearly, it's wonderful! I have a question and possible trope. I read what Dante, Virgil, and Nero would do if they were with a chubby lover, and how they would react if someone else insulted them for their weight. But what would they do if the one insulting their weight is themself? Like their lover with insecurities that leads them to belittling or putting their own body down? How would they respond?

Terribly sorry for the belated response to this, nearly a year since you first put in the request, but here she comes: a sequel to The More to Love. Crazy to think that it also been a year since that post came out way back in October. Regardless, please enjoy the boys comforting their chubby lover.

Dante

He isn’t a stranger to being concerned with the way he looks. Just human enough to pass, but if you looked, really looked at him you’d see it… the demon inside. He was worried you’d be scared of that when the two of you started dating. Truth be told, he was ready to embrace the frightened look he’d inevitably see in your eyes when he’d have to trigger his devil form. The fiery red scales and the inferno broiling around him deterred lesser demons, but they didn’t scare you. You, in all of your beauty and grace, held his face in your hands after the threat was dealt with. You called him pretty. Pretty! And just like that, his doubts were washed away, gone to the wind when he picked you up into his arms. 

So why was it that you could accept that part of him– every part of him–, but not yourself? Why were you so mean to… to you? 

The way you put yourself down in front of him irks him because how could anyone think such nasty things? I’m too fat, you said, I’d be prettier if I weren’t… and you, you deserve to be with someone who isn’t– 

“Who isn’t… what? So charming? So… sexy?”, he chimed in, getting in the way of your words. It’s all bullshit. He wouldn’t stand for it, and neither should you(even if you’re talking about yourself here.) 

“I don’t get what the issue is here”, he did, but this was something you needed to hear. You needed to know that he didn’t care about your weight or how you looked. You didn’t care about how he looked. 

Before you know it, he’s taken your hands into his own, looking at you with those pretty eyes of his. The eyes you adore. The eyes that bear down on you with nothing but adoration. 

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re fine just as you are. Got that?”, his voice comes out in that hushed little drawl, just for you. 

Dante’s thumbs brush over your hands as he lets go of them to hold your face. 

“But…–”

“No buts!”, he declares, moving closer to wrap his arms around your form. 

His hands are gentle as they are possessive as they coil around you. He’s warm. In the warmth of his embrace, does he give you an appreciative squeeze, leaning his head down to kiss the top of your head. 

“... but if you do want help with that, I’d be more than willing to lend ya hand. We can eat healthier… and exercise, if that’s what you want”

If there were any tears or quiet sobs in the silence, he waits to hear your response. Or, at the very least, wait for you to bring your arms around him. 

“... okay”, you sniffle, “Thank you, Dante”, you smile into his shoulder. 

He has to bite his tongue, only because you’re so damn cute.

Vergil

He can’t understand why this would possibly ever be a problem, or how you could think such things about your body. If it wasn’t causing you any physical discomfort, what was the issue here? Why would he think you’re unattractive because you’re plump? Quickly, before any other more insults towards yourself can leave your mouth, he cuts you off. 

“That is enough”, he’s frowning, but that’s his usual expression. It’s not a matter of what he thinks, but a matter of what you think and how you perceive yourself. Of which is not to his liking, it would not be the first time you’ve said something he did not agree with. 

“If you’re unhappy with the way that you look, then we can change it, but I don’t ever want to hear you say such things about yourself again”, his gaze is cast elsewhere for a moment before he reaches out to you. Tentative, allowing you the choice of whether you want to move into him or not. 

It’s not threatening you, is it? Another thought that comes to mind is if someone else has said something about your weight to you… perhaps a family member or acquaintance of some sort. He doesn’t know to what extent you’ve endured such negativity about yourself for, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let you suffer it for any longer. You aren’t too much of anything, not to him. You’re you, and if there is anything that’s right in this god forsaken world, then it would be you. Not what anyone else thinks, or even what he thinks for that matter. 

“Do you really believe that?”, he asks, his brow furrowing as his gaze finds you again. 

Do you really think those things about yourself? 

“... What if I can’t keep up with you, what if I weigh you down? I don’t want to be… I don’t want to be a burden to you”, are the words you say to him. 

Oh how it burns. How it hurts to hear you think that you could ever be that to him. 

“You never have been, you never will be… regardless of whatever form or shape you are”, he brushes your cheek with the pad of his thumb. That cold stare has thawed, becoming like gentle snow as it catches you. 

The relief that washes over you when you hear his words is a balm to the weariness that plagues you. You tried to brace yourself for his rejection, expecting it to come with an easy or reluctant dismissal, but it never came. His reassurance, his vow, it’s almost overwhelming. Yet he is unyielding, as he ever is. Vergil presses his forehead against yours, letting you cry to get it out of your system. He is here, and here he shall always be, even if you think he ‘deserves’ better or if you’re unsatisfied with yourself. 

He was unsatisfied with himself at one point.

Nero

“What are you talking about..?”, it catches him off guard when he sees you so crestfallen in front of a mirror. 

You had been holding your stomach, gritting your teeth together as you started to list off all the things you thought was wrong with yourself. Always hungry, too pudgy, not enough. Before you can continue he’s already walking closer to you, both hands raised, not that you wanted him to leave or to back off. 

“Woah, woah, woah– stop that… You’re… you’re not too fat for me”, you could hear the waver in his tone, the dip in his voice when he said ‘fat’. Like a puppy whining, as if he had been the one to be scolded. 

Nero tried to figure out what to do with his hands, until they reached to settle on yours. He didn’t pull them away from yourself, but he seemed to be trying to figure out what was wrong. His eyes were searching yours, hoping to find an answer in the depths of them, through the tears and the red puff as you cried. 

“Where is this coming from?”, you hadn’t ever… he didn’t think this would be something you’d be hung up on. “Listen to me, you’re not too fat and being fat doesn’t make you ugly or unattractive at all. I like you like this”, he says quickly, before his hands move up to cup your cheeks. His thumbs brush under your eyes to wipe away the tears as you stand there, hiccuping your breaths, trying to keep it in. 

“Come on, breathe… it’s okay to cry- was it something I said?”, he asks, one brow cocked in concern as he tries to think back on if he had ever mentioned anything about your weight. He could be such an idiot sometimes, and he hoped that he hadn’t made an off handed comment that could’ve spurred you to take it out on yourself, but you had shook your head. 

“You didn’t say anything, Nero…”, you managed when you had started to take breaths for yourself. 

He almost let out a sigh of relief, but you were still upset, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. Really, what… or who, made you cry? Who made you think such awful things about yourself? 

“So why are you… who put all of those dumb thoughts in your head then?”, he asks. 

Who hadn’t? With all the skepticism, all the judgement made on your figure… it was hard to pinpoint where it all began, if not when. When you calm down a bit more, you look into the blue of his eyes, wanting to hear it from him again. 

“Did you really mean that, earlier… when you said you like me like this?”, you ask. 

“Every bit”, he nods, going to kiss your forehead, “And there’s nothing that can ever change that”

[cherryblossombankai]

Day 8: Praise Kink with Nero 

Warnings: praise kink, hand job, flustered nero

Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @sweet-chocolate-sweet

Wanna be on the tag list? CLICK HERE!

Your voice, so sweet and tender, rings through your apartment as he finishes putting your bookshelf together, “Good job, Nero!” 

Such a simple statement, yet his cheeks are flushed as though you’d walked across the room and grabbed his ass. He rubs the back of his neck in an attempt to hide his shyness with boyishness. 

“It’s nothin’ really,” he shirks off the praise. 

“Awh, I didn’t know you were so easily flustered,” you tease him when you notice the color on his cheeks. With a click of the tongue, he turns away from you and busies himself with cleaning up the packaging. He’s shaving plastic wrapping into the box, muttering under his breath that he needs to get his shit together. 

“Want me to take this to the dumpster on my way out?” he asks. 

“That would be great!” You smile and before he knows it he can feel your breath on his neck. “You’re so sweet. My hero,” you coo.

His pants feel just a bit tighter, and he hopes you can’t see the way he’s squeezing his eyes shut to try to once again ‘get his shit together.’ 

“Cut it out,” he scoffs. 

“Cut what out?” You wrap your arms around him from behind, hugging him close and resting your head on his back. “Can’t I tell my boyfriend how cute and adorable and sweet he is?” 

“N-no, I don’t need to hear all that,” he shivers. 

You fake pout as your hand moves down his toned tummy then underneath his shirt. Your fingertips brush through the snowy white hair leading into his pants. He groans softly at the feeling. 

“But you’re so perfect,” you giggle and nip at his neck. “Such a good boy.” 

Just hearing those two words make him weak in the knees. You shove your hand down his pants and palm at his cock. 

“Say it again,” he whines. 

“What?” 

“You know…” 

“Good boy?” 

His cock twitches against your hand. 

“Oh! What a good boy,” you giggle. 

[dollivication]

oh dollyyyy

How do u think the dmc + leon (or js one, or an additional carlos if you're feeling spicy) would behave if their darling was hyperfeminine

bc i just KNOW Dante would be feral if ur makeup was almost always done, wearing pretty clean clothes and having a bow in ur hair more often than not

cwacked my knuckles 4 this 1 this specific ask made my pupils dilate sow…. MWAH thnak yew for asking this teehee :3 part 1!!!

nsfw for dante and slight nsfw 4 nero…. gulp….

DANTE SPARDA!

.he would be ALL for a hyperfeminine darling. encourages it even! he’d probably even ask trish to take you out shopping so you can come back looking flashier than ever >:3 whatever makes his baby happy!

.and you’re so right about that!!! he’s aware that you don’t really do it for him, but the monkey brain inside his head tends to tell him that it is. you just look so pretty with your makeup all done, surely you had him in mind while adjusting into your cute little outfits?

.he’s SUPER touchy, so if you really care about your clean appearance, stay away from dante. he WILL start to play with any ribbons he sees, be it on your hair or clothing—often causing them to undo and god knows that this idiot has no fucking clue how to re-tie them. rushes off before you can even say a word to him. ugh..

.and he just can’t help being dirty to you when you look like a living doll! :( yucky thoughts FUEL him. he’ll see a pattern in your clothing; cutesy, pastel, pink… and he will immediately think about if your panties are matching the whole thing you’ve got going on outside.

.he’ll try sneaking his hands under the dresses and skirts you wear, try and flip the fabric up to confirm his suspicions. even if you’re whining loudly about how gross he’s being, all that he can think about are your adorable frilly panties!!! i fear he would try to fuck you in whatever you’re wearing… (＞人＜;)

VERGIL SPARDA!

.i don’t think he would care much! it’s not his business how you choose to dress, and if that’s how you express yourself, who is he to judge? plus, you look damn well good while doing it, he’s not gonna stop you even if the whole thing is a bit foreign to him.

.vergil hasn’t really seen anyone dress like you do, but it’s a very pleasant change of pace for him. a darling who doesn’t conform to the typical lower-toned fashion? he can get behind that! especially because it brings his beloved dove joy.

.once in a blue moon, he’ll tell you that he likes the outfit you picked out that day. it reminds him of a tulip. and of course, if you’re experiencing any trouble in picking something out or struggling to get dressed up, vergil is at your side in the blink of an eye, ready to help you with whatever it is you need.

.need a ribbon tied? he’ll do his best for you. need something zipped up? he’s your guy!! don’t know if you should pick the long sleeve or the short sleeve? well, both look good on you, but it’s out hot and the short sleeve is definitely a favorite—and you can wear the former another day.

.i do think that he’d be far more gentle with a hyperfeminine darling than a darling who isn’t. theres a certain tranquility from seeing you so content and unashamed while donning the prettiest little dress, he would probably handle you carefully—to ruin your outfits would be to ruin your glee, and that is the last thing vergil wants. so he treats you and your belongings like fine china <3

NERO SPARDA!

.MESMERIZED!!! nero thinks you look like a literal fucking angel. he’s practically a puppy, eager to see how you’ll look the next day. and even if your closet is limited in options? that doesn’t matter! he’s still going to dote on you, kissing your forehead to be mindful of your makeup while rambling about how cute you are!!! each morning is a welcomed surprise :3

.it’s funny because he’ll be showing you off, but gets pissy when other people actually look at you. especially men!! he can understand a woman or kid staring, because you’re literally a sweet dream walking, but other guys??? na. but then nero looks at you again and realizes this fine babe is dating him, not them! it feeds his pride lols keep doing what you’re doing!!

.whenever he can, he’ll buy you a little plush that fits your style! anything remotely light pink or white automatically makes him think of you. its a bit of a problem… but hey, at least he’s got you and your tastes on the mind 24/7 !!!

.if you ever try to give him oral while wearing your outfits, he’s quick to refuse no matter how much you insist that it’s fine. he knows how much your clothes can cost, and how much you put hard work into your appearance that he doesn’t wanna fuck it up! lest he cums and stains the fabric on accident :(

.if by any chance, you do manage to convince him, and his worst fears do happen—nero will spend just about ALL of his savings to spoil you because he feels guilty LMFAO.. he’ll definitely give you a solid few bucks to go crazy the next time you guys go shopping, muttering about how he wanted to make things up to you. but it’s not all that bad, because now you can show off with more cute clothes and fluster him!! >.<

V SPARDA!

.he’s curious about your taste in fashion! not in a judgy way, no, but he’s actually intrigued by you! very fascinated at how you can capture an almost innocent side of being feminine using a certain arrangement of mere accessories and clothing. you’re always pleasant to look at, so don’t be surprised if you catch him stealing a few glances your way teehee!! all in all, he earnestly respects the grind and isn’t afraid to express it.

.the whole dynamic between you guys is just so comical.. especially because you two are polar opposites in the way you present yourselves. i do think that after V took his current clothes from that one thug, he developed a little taste in gothic-esque fashion, so you both will be getting a few stares in public together!

.hes,, unemployed,, i fear… so he cannot buy anything for you as he would have liked to—but i do think he would maybe ask griffon to fetch (steal) him a few strands of ribbon for you, and that goes for jewelry! pearl necklaces, lace chokers… just about everything else that you express interest in. he’ll probably keep doing it even if you tell him he doesn’t need to.

.you are NOT safe from hardcore compliments. v straight up glazes you in a way that like.. makes you feel vulnerable? he describes you in such a heartfelt manner using his poetry, all while basking in the sight of you. truly, you remind him of a lamb. carefree and joyful, and a symbol of purity. it’s very strange but in a nice way…

.does not take kindly to rude remarks directed at you! the way he sees it, all you’re doing is living a life that’s comfortable for you, and it’s not hurting anyone! he really doesn’t get why some people feel the need to look at you like you’re some kind of freak-show. if he sees that the harsh opinions of others visibly dampens your mood or get insecure, he’ll be quick to assure you that your fashion is nothing to be ashamed of—because it really isn’t. you’re a piece of art, not only to him, but all around.

[bieroj]

Lil Nero fanart I made for a friend !! he doesn't knows yet so shhhh

this is my first time drawing him, he looks like Nero if you squint your eyes LMAO but still I'm really proud of how it looks!

[nekrosdolly]

bₑₐᵤₜy ₛcₕₒₒₗ ₋ ₙ.ₛₚₐᵣdₐ

calling nero girlish leads to a devastating self-discovery. what can you do but help?

a/n; fun fact i've been working on this for two months and three days... also the most down bad thing i've ever written. enjoy!

cw; sub!nero, dom!reader, afab!reader, feminization, a bit of manhandling (reader is written to be on the stronger side), small impact play, spit kink, biting, referring to dicks as clits and assholes as cunts/pussies, nipple play, anal fingering (n! receives), pegging, clothed reader, doggystyle, implied multiple rounds. 5.444k words!

You’ve been staring at Nero for at least half a minute now. He’s not returning your gaze but it’s definitely affecting him, as he’s shifting in his seat across from you quite a bit. The two of you are waiting for Dante, Lady, and Trish to finish gearing up for the mission you’re embarking on- something big, Dante says, but with the lot of you it’d be maybe a few hours max. If the two of you weren’t mutually interested in one another both in friendship and in a more-than-friends way, the staring would’ve bothered him. 

“You know,” you lean forward in the uncomfortable chair bolted to the ground across from the ratty couch Nero’s manspreading on, “you have kind of girlish lips.”

Nero furrows his eyebrows, his eyes finally meeting yours. Something clicks inside of him that he chooses to ignore despite the blossoming pink tint on his cheeks. Maybe you just have that effect on him, or maybe it’s something else.

“No, I don’t. They’re just lips.” He says as he rubs his cheek, his eyes breaking away from yours.

“Whatever.” You shrug. The rest of the team enters shortly, Nico included, and you’re on your way. 

While you busy yourself with menial conversation amongst the group, Nero cannot get his mind off of what you just said. Girlish lips? He doesn’t have girlish lips, does he? No, not at all. But god, if that doesn’t do something for him… It does. Especially coming from you. You’re not the face of masculinity or femininity by any means, but he likes the fact that you find him a bit girly. A bit of heat stirs in his gut, something brand new, and it’s good. Almost too good to ignore- but he’s on a mission and he needs to focus if he wants to make it out with minimal injuries.

He shakes the thought away (or tries to) when Nico brake-checks everyone and nearly sends everything in the old van flying.

“Here!” She chimes with a lit cigarette dangling from her fingers.

Five hours later.

The mission lasted longer than any of you had anticipated. Five hours of grueling slaughter brought upon by you and your comrades- aside from Nico, who relaxed in her van and watched from the sidelines. Nero’s mind was preoccupied on the way back, replaying the fight in his head to see if he could’ve done something different. You were slumped against Dante, who kept one arm on the back of the couch so you could rest comfortably as he read his porno mag.

He didn’t catch himself thinking about it until he was undressed later that night. He had already removed most of his clothing before he sat on the edge of his bed, only in his boxers. The moment kept replaying, you calling his lips girlish. Something about that felt right. Girlish. Maybe you’d treat him like a girl, too. Thinking about it made his dick twitch and his chest feel warm. His face heats up the way it did in the van as his thoughts run wild. Being told to wear a dress for you, putting on makeup, and making him truly look like a girl- (edits starting now) he groans into his hands, calloused heels of his palm pressing his eyes shut.

“This is so not what I needed right now,” he mumbles, sucking in a breath as he wills his boner away. Embarrassed, he lies down and pulls the covers overtop him. Sleep does not come easy.

The next day.

Within your close knit circle, compliments are sparse. Dante claps people on the back as a “good job,” and maybe Nico will toss them a thumbs up, but that's it. Nero’s used to it- the silent reassurance from everyone- except you. 

“You did really good, Nero,” the two of you are fresh from another mission, sore and covered in muck. The tips of Nero’s ears turn red, though it could be mistaken for the blood of slain demons. Deep down, he knows he did well. He doesn't need reassurance, verbal or otherwise, but it feels nice. The words send a little shiver down his spine.

“Uh, thanks. You too, I guess,” he says, shrugging his blue jacket off to leave by the door. He'll come back later to toss it in the wash. In a stretch, he lifts his arms over his head to hopefully ease the impending ache that'll settle in his muscles within minutes. With his shirt being as short as it is, his midriff is exposed to you for a short second.

Your eyes slightly widen, zeroing in on his waist. How in the world is it so… feminine? Girlish? Cute? Grabbable? He's not even looking as he keeps stretching, oblivious to your wandering, hungry gaze. 

“Dude, I'm jealous. Your waist is like, tiny. You sure you're not a girl under all that?” He knows you're teasing, he really does, but good heavens. It hasn't been a full day since the last incident, you may as well be trying to kill him.

Stormy eyes shoot open in shock and he lowers his arms to his sides nearly immediately. He tugs his shirt down more, as if that would help, and looks away.

“You're so weird, you know that? Do you want me to be a girl or something?” He scoffs as he crosses his arms over his chest. You chuckle to yourself, satisfied with his reaction.

Shrugging, “Maybe I do. You'd be a pretty cute girl, Nero.”

The white-haired man grumbles something as he walks off in the direction of the HQ bathrooms in hopes of a very, very cold shower. It's not his fault that your teasing gets him bricked. Of course, you notice nothing different, given that Nero’s always been quick to fluster.

In the bathroom, he splashes ice cold water on his face and rubs it into his skin. Some dirt and blood washes away with the water, but that wasn't his intention. He'll have to shower when he gets home, as Dante’s shower is conveniently broken, but the last thing he wants to endure is a car ride home with half an erection and plenty of fuel to give him a full one. His blood is roaring in his ears, lewd thoughts invading his head like the plague. Hunched over the sink, his hands grip the ceramic edges like a vice.

You, with a tube of lipstick in hand that is very clearly not your shade but his. You, with a mascara wand in hand telling him to hold still or he'll mess it up. You, handing him a white sundress and equally white lacy panties. You, telling him to put them on and be a good girl- doesn't he want to look pretty?

Nero wants it all. He wants it so bad; to be your doll, your plaything to humiliate and use however you want. But would you? God, he hopes so.

Minutes have gone by. He shuts the sink off and looks in the mirror- still grimy, but not gross. Blood splotches mat his hair in some sections, but at least some stuff on his face is gone. He looks normal aside from the massive blush covering his cheeks, but that could be chalked up to exerting himself.

“Nero?” You knock on the shoddy door to the even shoddier bathroom, “you alright? It's been like ten minutes, man.”

The sound of your voice brings him back to reality- has it really been ten minutes? He looks at himself once again in the dirty mirror, a searing feeling of embarrassment settling in his shoulders. Another splash of cold water to his face before he shuts off the sink and exits. You step back as he does, looking up at him with concern. “Fine, thanks. Just tired. It was a long mission, y’know?” He can’t bring himself to meet your eyes, lest he get even the slightest bit hard. At this point, it’s a problem. Without another word from either of you, he heads upstairs.

Do you find it odd? Yeah, but you don’t say anything. After all, he did say he was tired. He probably just needs to get some rest. Settling on one of the couches in the lobby, you decide that you do, too.

Two days later, Devil May Cry, the Fortuna branch

Nero is glad that he lives so far away from Red Grave City. It’s a few hours’ drive both ways and it’s a pain to put up with Nico’s horrible driving. As much as he complains, he’d rather not be the one driving. The distance also makes it easier for him to not think about you as much. 

Well, that’s only half-true. He thinks about you more than he should. The only thing the distance helps with is avoiding you. Of course, that doesn’t stop his imagination running wild at the randomest of times- including while doing household chores. It’s a gamble- his thoughts range from pure domesticity to borderline porn.

When his thoughts take over this time, he’s doing the dishes. There’s not much, but it’s enough to warrant his attention. One would assume that touching dirty dishes and day-old food would ward off any semblance of lust-driven daydreams, right? Unfortunately, that’s not the case today.

He’s mid-washing a plate, his sleeves rolled up so only his forearm is wet. His metal arm is covered with a dish glove, lest the water screw with the wires and give him a nice, heart-stopping zap. The sponge in his hand is sudsy, lazily scrubbing at the leftover food on the plate as his mind wanders to you. At first, it’s innocent. Cooking together, thinking about what you’d want to eat for dinner after a long mission, or even just a long day in general. How would your lips feel on his cheek, your arms around him as the two of you get ready for bed?

Maybe your hands would slip under his shirt, your eyes meeting his as you rub his waist. Words of filth disguised as sweet nothings to get his blood flowing south, inciting a dizzying shiver down his spine. Your hands slipping into his panties that you picked out for him earlier that day with a smile, telling him that they’d look so pretty on him- that maybe, if he wore them all day while doing errands you’d reward him later on. Your voice in his ear, calling him a good girl, telling him how cute he is all flustered and wet in his panties.

His thoughts fester, the plate slipping from his hands. Only the sound of it clattering against the bottom of the (thankfully) shallow sink rouses him.

Well. That, and the door opening. There are only two people with a key, Nico and-

And you. What a wonderful time to have a hard-on.

“Hey, I tried calling you, but I think your landline’s down,” you say, barging into his kitchen without a care in the world. Nero keeps himself pressed against the kitchen sink for his own dignity’s sake as he looks at you, feigning irritation. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock?” He scoffs, picking up the plate he’d been washing and giving it a good rinse. “You clearly don’t care whether or not I do, seeing as I have a key,” you grin, crossing your arms as you lean against the archway between the living room and kitchen. Maybe you let your eyes wander a little- a domesticated Nero is a rare sight, one you enjoy very much. He’s got these tight fitting black boxers on that really do his ass justice and baggy a longsleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up that almost gives him this cutesy appearance.

“Yeah, whatever. What did you need?” He moves on to the next dirty dish after placing the clean one on the drying rack. His voice is a bit snippy, and he’s a little tense. The fact that he can feel your eyes on him doesn’t help, and if anything, makes his boxers just that much tighter.

“Dante wants us on a new job he got from this new client. Some guy named V, though I dunno much about him,” you shrug.

“He couldn’t tell me himself?”

“Nah. I don’t think he really likes coming here, anyway. Something about Fortuna gives him the creeps, he said. Probably ‘cause they used to worship his dad ‘nd shit.” Nero scoffs at that and shuts off the sink, flicking his non-prosthetic hand to get the water off, then frees his devil breaker of its rubber confinement. 

“Nice ass, by the way,” you add, smirking at him. Nero turns to face you with his cheeks tinted pink and a soft scowl on his face. Facing you was a mistake because his erection from earlier has not died. You don’t notice it immediately, much to his relief, because he knows you’re not that much of a pervert.

“You’re so weird,” he huffs.

“Not my fault you look like a girl.” You retort. Nero’s cock twitches hard, his already warm face heating up more. He really, really should’ve put on pants this morning.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) for him, the movement, as subtle as it may be, catches your eye through your peripherals. On instinct, your eyes dart towards the source and widen immediately.

“...Are you hard? Did I do that?” You point to yourself. Nero huffs and tugs the hem of his shirt down to cover his now raging erection, the dull throb making it hard for him to come up with any kind of retort.

“Wh- no! I-I mean, yes- I’m hard, but it’s not because of you!” He looks away from you, even as you step closer to him until you’re an arm’s width away. It’s too much too quick, because what can he say to make this all better? Nothing. There’s nothing he can say or do to make this situation go over smoothly. “So… You don’t want me to help out? I mean, it’s pretty obvious you need some, right?” You reach up and grab his jaw, your thumb swiping over his bottom lip. A dry spell hits his mouth, his pupils dilating as he tries to swallow. The poor quarter-devil’s heart races in his chest, that feeling from earlier returning. 

Nero opens his mouth to speak but you’re quick to press down on his tongue with your thumb. A sly grin spreads on your lips, knowing you’ve got him dead set on this. Now, he could overpower you at any given point- he’s part devil- but he finds that he doesn’t want to. You lean in closer, your face just a few inches from his.

“You like being called a girl?” Smooth and low, your voice has him in a trance. The hunger in your eyes makes his knees weak, saliva coating your thumb as it remains on his tongue. Hesitantly, he nods.

“Yeah, I thought so,” you mutter, your free hand finding a home on his waist. “You wanna be fucked like a girl too, don’t you?”

Another hesitant nod, his eyelids fluttering from the embarrassment of the entire situation. In truth, he only started experimenting with himself after he and Kyrie broke up. It’s not that Kyrie kept him from experimenting with stuff like that, because they tried plenty when they were in bed, but something about it felt wrong.

With you? It couldn’t feel more right, not as you remove your thumb from his mouth to smear his lips with his own saliva. “Don’t you know how gross that is, Nero?” Your voice holds a teasing lilt that makes his stomach flutter. While he does feel ashamed, he’s way too into this to care. His cock is crying in the confines of his boxers, the fabric tighter than ever. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, meek with humiliation.

“No, you’re not. In fact, I bet you want to be dressed up like some doll, then get railed just like the slut you are.” Nero squeezes his eyes shut. The tips of his ears are red, possibly even some of his chest, too. As humiliating as this is, he likes it a lot. Your words make his knees weak, his tummy’s warm and he may as well be sweating from how hot he is. Again, he nods.

“Please,” he forces himself to look at you, half-lidded eyes and all. “Please, just give me what I want.” A satisfied look crosses your face at the sound of his desperation, his poor excuse for begging.

“Oh, believe me, I will,” your hand slides from his waist to the very prominent bulge, amused at how it kicks against your hand and the way Nero’s breathing picks up.

“But not now. I mean I’ll get you off no problem, but your fantasy needs a few things that aren’t at my disposal, nor are they at yours.”

The disappointed noise that leaves Nero’s mouth is almost uncharacteristic. 

“Uh, yeah. You’re right, I guess.” He grumbles quietly, his eyes downcast like a kicked puppy.

“Think you can wait? I’ll come back, I promise.” He nods reluctantly. He’ll be as patient as he needs to be. With a kiss to his cheek, an unspoken promise you’ll return, you leave him in his kitchen with his boner still very much alive. Embarrassed, defeated, and aroused, he walks to the living room couch and plops down on it. 

Two hours later.

Barging in again, you toss a hefty plastic bag on top of a sleeping Nero, forcing him to wake up from the weight hitting his stomach. “Hey, what the hell?” He glares at you through sleep-addled eyes and sits up on his elbows.

“Look in the bag, sleeping beauty.” You lean against his front door, the metal surface cooling your back. 

Nero does as he’s told, rummaging through the bag’s contents like a curious puppy. The first item he pulls out is a white skirt that’s very, very short. Scarlet engulfs his cheeks within seconds. When you said later, he thought you meant tomorrow, not later today. He continues to pull items from the bag, his blush spreading like wildfire. The next item is a crop top, also white, frilly underwear and an equally cute bra to match, before he finally pulls out what must be the largest light blue dildo he’s ever seen accompanied by a harness.

“Put it on,” you smile, “go make yourself pretty for me. Take this, too.” You toss him your makeup bag, which he catches with the devil breaker.

With a hard swallow, Nero places everything back into the plastic bag and disappears into his bedroom, clutching the bag’s flimsy handles with an iron grip. The moment the door closes, he’s in a rush to take his clothes off. He nearly rips his shirt trying to get it off, same thing with his boxers. He really sucks at being patient.

It feels natural, to a degree, putting everything on. It’s clear you want him to look like an angel or some kind of bride, all white and pure. How ironic. The panties don’t quite cover his cock and the shirt you chose makes his pecs look more akin to boobs, but he looks… cute. If not a little silly, what with all the ruffles, cute. Now, the makeup is what confuses him the most aside from the fastening mechanism of the bra you chose.

He knows what lipstick is. He knows what mascara is, and eyeliner. Kyrie wore those sometimes. But the rest of the stuff is greek to him.

The white-haired man is still staring down at the contents of your makeup bag when you walk in, strap-on fully assembled in one hand. He looks up at you with a shy smile, red cheeks and all. You toss the light blue toy onto his bed as you walk up to him, your gaze nothing short of predatory.

“Hey, pretty girl. Havin’ some trouble?” His dilemma is clear enough, but he nods anyway.

“What color would look good on me?” Pale blues travel to the selection of lipsticks you have, fingers rummaging through the variety of tubes. Perhaps he’s too overwhelmed at the moment. Your warm hand settles on waist, his gaze flickering to your face.

“Why don’t we skip the makeup for now, hm? I’d hate to make you wait any longer, angel.”

Nero’s throat runs dry as he nods, expecting you to be a little gentle with him but oh, how he was wrong. He doesn’t expect you to push him onto his mattress like he was some kind of slut, nor does he expect you to get on top of him as quickly as you do. Your hands are so rough as you grope his chest, a soft whine leaving his lips when you lean down to bite one of his pecs. 

“Cute tits, dolly,” your thumbs rub his clothed nipples and he’s really glad he’s sensitive everywhere right now, otherwise he’d feel kind of stupid. He can’t bring himself to meet your eyes again, shy as a virgin during her first time, as he mewls quietly.

“I just can’t believe that you’re into this kind of thing,” you snap his bra strap against his skin, making him flinch, “What a fucking slut…”

“M’not a slut,” he mumbles, cock weeping into the lacy material of his panties as he looks away from you.

“Don’t be dumb,” you grab his jaw and force him too look at you, his pupils blown wide. Fingers card into his hair and give it a soft tug, making him whine again. Everything you do makes his cock harder, his mind fuzzier, and his blush darker. Slotting a knee between his legs, you force his legs to part wider before you press it against his panty-clad hard-on. It’s a cute sight, him gasping and squirming in a pathetic attempt to escape the stimulation.

A sharp slap to his thigh makes him still, a mumbled “sorry” sounding from his lips. You let go of his jaw in favor of slipping under his thighs, guiding them around your waist as you lean down to kiss him. His eyes flutter shut, as do yours when your lips meet in a much gentler kiss than he anticipated. That doesn’t last long, because two seconds in and you’re biting his lower lip to make him gasp, allowing you to lick into his mouth without protest. His hips buck at the taste of you, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your neck. You pin his hips to the bed, thumbs kneading what little fat he has there.

He’s dizzy when you break the kiss, panting with your spit glossing his lips and your eyes locked to one another’s. Your thumb hooks in the corner of his mouth and pulls down, forcing his mouth open. As if reading your mind, he sticks his tongue out. A thick glob of spit leaves your lips and lands flat on his tongue. He moans, his cock pulsing hard in his jeans. When your thumb unhooks from his mouth, he swallows. “Good girl, angel.” Your voice resembles a low purr in his ear, his body on fire. If you praise him again, he might cum in his panties. He’s entirely sure that his skirt is damp with how much he’s leaking. Your hand slips down, down, down until you’re pushing his shirt up and palming over his erection, making him melt into the mattress. “My pretty girl is so wet,” you hum, thumbing over his weeping slit. He whimpers, his hips bucking hard. This time, you let it slide because he’s too damn cute when he’s under you to care. Using his precum as makeshift lube, you rub his frenulum, watching as his eyes light up with pleasure and his back makes a pretty arch, whining pathetically in the back of his throat. His silver brows pinch, his eyes torn between watching your hand and your face. “Right there, huh, princess?” 

“F-Fuck, yes, th-there,” he nods eagerly, his stomach tensing when you rub that spot faster. His dick twitches and throbs, his shaky breathing accelerating. You don’t let up, no matter how squirmy he gets. “Sensitive little thing, aren’t you? Who knew that rubbing your clit would get you like this.” Sultry words coming from you, his legs tightening around your waist. “C-Cum, wanna cum,” he mewls out, “pleasepleaseplease.” The rest of his cock feels neglected but he can’t bring himself to care, not when you wrap your hand around the tip and circle your palm on his sensitive head. Especially not when you use your free hand to pull down the neckline of his shirt to lick one of his pebbled nipples. The moment you wrap your lips around it and suck, he cums with the most pathetic noise imaginable. Hot seed sticks to your palm and spills down his softening cock.

“Mm,” you pull off his nipple with a soft pop, “that didn’t take long at all.” The sound of fabric tearing fills the air as you rip the lace material down the side seams.

“Why’d you do that?” Nero props himself up on his elbows, watching as you discard the now-useless lace. You shrug, slipping out from between Nero’s legs to grab the bottle of lubricant you know he has stashed in his nightstand. “Felt like it. What, you never had your panties ripped off before?” The drawer of his side table has too many things in it. Still, you fish out the black bottle of lube and toss it onto the bed beside him. “Obviously not.” You reach for the strap on lying cold and alone. Nero pulls his skirt down to cover himself and closes his legs, though it’s pointless.

“Keep up the attitude, angel. See where it gets you.” 

“...Whatever,” Nero grumbles, a new surge of arousal filling him as he watches you fasten the strapon to your pelvis. It’s a little unfair that you’re still fully clothed, but he’ll take what he can get. When you climb onto the bed again, you grab him by the hips and flip him over, his body weight that of a feather in your hands. With one hand, you prop his hips up as the other presses his face down into the mattress.

“Hey!” He yips, looking back at you with feigned annoyance. You roll your eyes as you push his skirt up for the second time tonight and give his ass a sharp slap, making him whine.

“Don’t be a brat. We’re just getting to the good part,” you grab the bottle of lube and uncap it, pouring a hefty amount on your fingers. Anticipation bubbles in Nero’s chest, his hands fisting the sheets. A shudder leaves him upon feeling your fingers coat the rim of his hole, applying gentle pressure just to tease. You push your index finger in slowly, forcing a hiss from his throat. It’s an odd feeling, the intrusion, but one he can get used to.

Besides, he’s seen those videos of cute guys getting pegged and they cum their brains out every time. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of both parties.

His walls slowly adjust as you move your finger in a gentle rhythm, waiting until you hear his breathing grow heavy to add another. A moan gets stuck in his throat, his brows pinched together as his eyes flutter shut. “You alright down there, angel? You’re awfully quiet.” You hum, using your free hand to knead one of his pert cheeks.

“F-Fine- M’fine,” his voice is a little strained and breathy. The pads of your middle and index finger brush against his prostate and his legs twitch, a soft moan leaving him. As subtly as he can (not at all,) he rocks his hips back onto your fingers to get more shocking, dizzying pleasure. Once you decide he’s loose enough, you withdraw your fingers and bring them to your silicon cock, adding a solid drizzle of lube along the shaft. A soft schlick noise sounds when you give the translucent silicon toy a few pumps to ensure it’s sufficiently lubricated.

Before Nero has time to complain, the tip is already pressing against his fluttering entrance. His fists clench in the sheets as you slowly press into him. Pink lips fall open as the stretch does him in, trying his best to stay still for you. “Good girl,” you murmur in his ear, “such a good girl, taking my cock so well.”

The white-haired man has never felt so full in his life, nor horny or outright dumb. He whines when you bottom out completely, your nails digging into his hips to keep him from running away.

“W-Why is it so big,” he looks back at you, his own cock dripping pre-cum again. His question is left unanswered as you pull out halfway only to thrust meanly back in. A strangled moan leaves his lips, his back falling into a natural arch. “Tell me, angel,” you keep a slow yet hard pace, each thrust bullying your fake cock impossibly deeper into his greedy hole, “has anyone ever fucked this cute cunt before?”

His brain processes the words but every time he opens his mouth, nothing but noises of pleasure come out. He shakes his head “no,” with a whimper.

“Aww, really? So you’re a virgin? Explains how tight your pussy is.”

Nero hasn’t been a virgin since he was nineteen, but for you, he’ll be anything you want. His volume increases the moment you bully your cock against his prostate, a sweet cry falling from his lips. His body feels hot every time the fat head presses it, his body relaxing into the bed. Lewd slaps and wet noises fill the air alongside his sweet noises of pleasure.

“Fuck m-me,” he gasps, his cock pulsing between his legs as it’s ignored, “y-your cock feels so good i-in my pussy.”

“I know, angel. Your cunt’s squeezing me so tight- if I knew you wanted me this much, I would’ve fucked her sooner.” You reach around to grope his chest, your other hand pulling him back on your faux dick with every thrust. Poor Nero doesn’t know what to do with himself but let you use him, as if you were the one getting pleasure from this. It’s obvious he needs more despite his noises, judging by the way he’s still able to think without interruption. He’s really gone when you accelerate your thrusts and keep the roughness, all but turning into a puddle atop his bedsheets. The coil in his stomach twists and tightens, his orgasm fast approaching.

“Yeah, there we go,” you murmur, your words adding fuel to the fire that is his impending release, “that’s my sweet girl.”

“M’gonna cum,” he whimpers, “I-I wanna- please, i-it hurts,” he reaches between his legs, whining when you slap his hand away. “Why didn’t you say something, pretty girl? I’ve got you, angel, just be a doll and let me take care of you.” Your slick fist wraps around his cock, stroking him in time with your thrusts and Nero just can’t handle it anymore. His orgasm catches him off guard, thick ropes of cum shooting out of his pink cockhead and onto the sheets below you two with a cry of your name.

You’re kind, so you take your hand away and slow to a stop, panting softly.

“You alright?” Nero takes a second to respond, humming a second later as he catches his breath. His thighs feel weak and shaky. “Good,” you pull out and settle on the bed beside him, your back resting against the wooden headboard. Under the impression that you’re done toying with him, he lets his eyes close. They shoot open when you grab him by the waist and hoist him onto your lap, thick blue dildo pressing against his gaping hole again. “C’mon, little girl- I can’t do all the work around here, y’know.”

The next day.

Dante calls Nero’s landline for what feels like the fifth time in a row.

“Damn, that punk,” he sighs, slamming the telephone down on its receiver. You’re not answering your phone either, but he knows better than to expect you to answer. He’s about to dial Nero’s number for a sixth time when the doors to Devil May Cry open and in walks you alongside a limping Nero. The red devil opens his mouth, but-

“Don’t ask,” Nero groans, making his way over to one of the couches and lying on his stomach. You’re quite proud of your work, even if it’s at Nero’s expense. Dante will find out eventually, and you cannot wait.

divider creds to @benkeibear!!

[quiet-saint]

Nero x reader

Warning: smut, +18

Summary: making nero finish quickly

A/n: gn reader, this is pretty short lmfao, don't think i made any explicit mention of reader's bits if I did please tell me.

✮

The slide down is slow but oh so good. Nero's hands go to your hips as you sink down and he groans, head thumping against the bed. His thumbs rub over your hips lovingly as your body accommodates him. His shirt has ridden up to reveal the pale skin of his tummy. His eyes are heavy-lidded, skin flushed from his clavicle to his cheeks, his pale hair damp.

You begin to move, hands planted on his chest as you rise up and sink down, repeating the action. Nero's pink lips part on a soft moan at the feel of your heat enveloping him. His eyes flutter shut. Shit, already that knot of pleasure is forming low in his belly because it's been too long. Then, without warning, you pick up the pace. The sudden change causes him to gasp, hands instinctively squeezing your hips in shock as you begin to bounce. The bed squeaks with the movement and Nero's stomach clenches in overwhelm.

"Fuck s-slow down." Nero groans, staring up at you with pupils blown wide as you ride him, not letting up on that dizzying pace. He barely glimpses the slight, michievous upturned corners of your mouth before you clench around him and Nero fucking whines, torn between trying to still your hips or caressing all he can reach. "Holy shit." He murmurs, eyes rolling as he tips his head back, exposing the column of his throat. You've only just started and he's painfully close. That coil in his stomach tightens and he whimpers, opening his eyes to look up at you. "Riding me so fucking hard slow down—" You squeeze around him again and he makes a strangled sound. His skin breaks out in goosebumps as he pants. "C-c'mon baby don't wanna come yet please not yet." Nero begs breathless and torn but it only spurs you on, bouncing on his cock as an airy laugh tumbles forth from your kiss swollen lips.

He's so fucking close, moaning and whimpering as you ride him. "Fuck, fuck, slow down shit." He can't even buck up to meet you. He's too lost in your tight heat and the delirious pace as well as those pretty little sounds you make. He moans, high and loud. "Yeah, yeah, yeah keep ridin' me like that 'm gonna come." He pleads. It's almost funny how quickly he switches up. Nero can barely keep his eyes open as that coil of pleasure builds and builds. He shifts, planting his feet on the bed as he grips your hips tight and he finally, finally presses up into you. He whines. "Ah shit, 'm gonna fill you, gonna—" Nero groans as he's buried deep. He's gripping your hips tight enough you know there'll be bruises tomorrow as he shoots thick ropes of release into you. A series of soft moans and even whimpers fall from his lips as you help him ride out his orgasm.

Once he's come down and collected himself, Nero rubs soothingly and apologetically up your sides and hips. His brows are pulled together in concern. "You okay sweetheart?" He asks, reaching for one of your hands. Nero knows he can be too rough sometimes. He brings your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your palm and smiling in relief when you giggle and tell him "Yeah I'm fine."

Nero grins, hands returning to your hips and flipping you onto your back, relishing in your laughter as your back meets the bed. "Perfect because I'm not done.”

[thepepsislvt]

Devil May Cry masterlist

here you can see any dmc fics ive written or working on!

Dante Sparda

Dante With a worried s/o (gn reader)

Backpacking Dante (gn reader)

V

Cherry Waves Series (V x ftm reader) Chapter one, Chapter 2 (more coming soon!!)

[ariseur]

Can I request dmc guys jealousy headcanons, if thats something youd be interested in writing? 👀

dmc guys jealousy hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

eidjdfjjeieddejeje why do headcanons take me sm longer to do

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

intended lowercase, kinda spoilers for dmc5 in nero’s hcs (?), mentions of possessiveness and obv jealousy, lmk if i missed anything!! 💕

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓓ANTE — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ for DANTE, i feel like he trusts you deeply and wouldn’t get jealous as easily as maybe, say— vergil?

❥ he’s pretty confident in your relationship but on the off chance he does get jealous, he’ll let it play out for awhile as he watches from afar.

❥ he’ll play it off as a joke, but if the person starts getting a little too touchy, he’ll ‘casually’ slide in with an arm around your waist and a kiss on your jaw, looking into the person’s eyes while you giggle at the sudden affection.

❥ dante would lowkey try to one-up them on the down low. oh, they buy you a drink? dante’s buying you ten. they compliment your hair? dante’s in your ear telling you how gorgeous you look today.

❥ and it’s not like he feels like he needs to give you false compliments just to one-up the other person, he just finds it amusing the way their jaw clenches when they see dante muttering in your ear while his eyes lock on them, a shit eating grin glued to his face because he knows what he’s doing.

❥ if you leave for whatever reason, dante might ‘accidentally’ make the person uncomfortable if they don’t get the hint already just by his tone. he’ll make passive aggressive comments if they’ve been getting too touchy, maybe nudge them a little too hard in the ribs or grip their shoulder a bit too tight at a ‘really funny joke’.

❥ dante does trust you though, it’s only when the person starts to get physical is when it becomes more of a problem. his energy speaks volumes, so you can tell if he has underlying intentions just from his smile.

❥ he’ll try to act friendly, albeit still a little petty, even if you know them personally. an arm slung across your shoulder or your waist along with scattered kisses across your face and shoulder is his main go-to. dante’s main goal is either for them to get the hint or for your mind to be occupied on him only.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥ERGIL — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ now VERGIL.. vergil is much more intimidating with his reactions. once he spots someone chatting it up with you and getting a little too close, he’s there in an instant.

❥ the only difference between him and dante’s reaction is that fact that vergil silently brews, eyes burning holes through the person as he watches quietly. he’ll take a seat next to you as his eyes never leave them, even once you greet him when he sits with you— just his piercing gaze staring them down.

❥ he swears that he doesn’t get jealous, that’s he’s better than whatever assumption you’re implying, oh my my! how dare you assume such things about this son of sparda?

❥ but alas, vergil gets hella jealous.

❥ it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he’s just very possessive over you. and it’s not like he’ll keep you locked away for him and him only, either. it’s simply a matter that involves his own ego and i don’t know if it’s some demon thing, but he just craves your scent. that, or his scent on you. just something that tells people that you’re his and he’s yours.

❥ if the person doesn’t take the hint after the abundance in glares that vergil throws at them, he’ll start making remarks. nothing too serious, just initiating some sort of confrontation if he sees that you’re uncomfortable. if you don’t seem annoyed or bothered by it, vergil will second-guess it and leave you to your own devices, trusting that you’ll handle it at some point.

❥ i doubt anybody would try vergil, so i wouldn’t even consider that a possibility. he’s a devil hunter that’s over six feet tall with a fit body and yamato sheathed in his back pocket, nobody in their right mind would fuck with him.

❥ vergil obviously knows to be logical, though. he doesn’t let his emotions get the better of him during this time and hopes that you’ll know how to handle it yourself. although, he definitely wouldn’t mind scaring the person off a little more.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ERO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ i honestly doubt that this man can keep his mouth shut. NERO just struggles with not making a stupid smartass remark every second.

❥ nero definitely has some insecurities that he buries, often only coming out in shorts bursts of when he can’t take it anymore. these jabs and quips that he makes are his form of concealing the fact that he’s insecure about himself and his abilities, especially if this is during or post-to-finding-out-who-his-father-is.

❥ i wouldn’t say he’s aggressive, but his mouth would def get him into big trouble. if he saw that you looked uncomfortable with the person or they started getting too touchy with you, he literally teleports next to you and greets you with a chaste cheek kiss. if you seemed okay with it, though, he’d try his best to brush it off but still glance at you every once in awhile (and by that i mean literally every minute) just to check on you.

❥ if he does decide to sit with you and just listen in on the conversation, he’ll basically just be hovering over you awkwardly. there are two ways this’ll go, either nero’s going to act all nonchalant like he doesn’t care even though he has a keen eye on whoever’s flirting with you (like father like son)— or he’s going to be really clingy with you.

❥ not really physically clingy, but more so clingy in the way where he’ll follow you around like a dog with heart eyes the whole time. even after you’ve stopped talking to the person.

❥ (he’s just like that, guys.)

❥ i think he gets a tiny bit butthurt afterwards though. i mean, he’s been called dead weight and basically has been looked down upon by both his father and his uncle, essentially being seen almost as a pest during the duration of dmc5.

❥ help this boy please, he def needs it

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥 — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ im sorry but i cannot see V as a jealous person

❥ i think v is a very calm natured guy, and i think he has a lot of faith in you. he trusts that you’ll be able to make the right choice in the end, and he knows that you wouldn’t just up and cheat on him or leave him out of the blue. he knows you know better and so he leaves you be.

❥ though.. it doesn’t hurt to watch from afar, does it?

❥ v is also an observer, he watches the interactions between you two as he studies both of your body languages. it’s not like he thinks you’ll do anything, it’s just his nature.

❥ griffon would definitely tease him about looking at you so much, squawking out nonsense as he calls v whipped for you.

❥ if he sees that you’re uncomfortable or you want to get out of the conversation— it can go a few different ways.

❥ one of the scenarios, for instance, would consist of him closing his book as he gets up and he walks over to the two of you. he’d greet you sweetly, side-eyeing the person in front of you as he kisses your hand. maybe he’d take a seat next to you just to let the person know that he’s watching. and if that didn’t work, griffon would certainly scare them off just by his yapping.

“shit, a bow tie? really? was your torso too wide for a tie or what?”

❥ overall, v isn’t a jealous person in general. however, he does love you enough to help you when you’re in need of a knight in shining armor. even if that knight is a gothic poet with an annoying bird and a panther at his side.

[yourinnerdemon]

INTRO REVAMP GANG

so I realized my old intro was absolutely trash so here's a new one!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

GET TO KNOW ME:

Hey there! My name is K4 and I'm 18+, my pronouns are she/they and I'm a writer here on Tumblr except I literally have no motivation and all my writing kinda sucks ngl.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

✧˖*°࿐

all readers are welcome!

FANDOM'S I WILL WRITE FOR:

Final fantasy

Red Dead Redemption II

Assassin's Creed (all games)

Batman

Mortal Kombat (most games)

Lies of P

Devil May Cry

Metal gear (Most games)

Elden Ring

there's probably more but I'm lazy so have these for now

✧˖*°࿐

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

WHAT I WILL WRITE:

character x reader

character x oc (ill try)

headcannons

oneshots (IM SO BAD AT ONESHOTS SO IM SO SORRY IF THESE SUCK)

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

WHAT I WONT WRITE:

smut

male readers (I did it once, did not feel good about it but i will write for gender neutral readers)

incest

and anything else morally wrong

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

[phonkscribes]

Nero with a reader who could kick his ass. Nero with a reader whom he fights with on occasion— in a healthy manner, just a bit of bickering and banter here and there.

“Why don’t you come and say that to my face?”

“I would but you still wouldn’t hear me from all the way down there, shorty!”

“Shorty?! I’ll show you a shorty”

And in those moments of chaos and throwing chairs at each other, the aftermath is always sweet, with you in his arms and that award winning smile beaming at you as he pulls you in for a kiss. Maybe you’re a little mad about the shorty comment but you’re not mad enough to NOT want to kiss him. The teasing still ensues even after the ‘match’ is over. He probably calls you his little chihuahua, his little ankle biter, or some other jab at your height. Each time you call his name in a warning manner, but as the list goes on, you can’t help but to laugh.

“Alright, alright… still. Love ya to bits”

“You’re tolerable, I guess”

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Promises, Promises

Nero/Dante/Vergil x GN!reader (can be read as platonic or romantic between nero/reader, dante/reader, or vergil/reader. whatever you prefer, just meant to be comforting i guess)

Word count: 1020

A/N: just wrote this, idrk what to say. reader claws at themself in their sleep even though they're lucid enough to know they're dreaming. they don't realize they're in actual real-world physical pain until they wake up, but frankly, the pain doesn't bother them. it's kinda about the boys being concerned because the reader doesn't seem to notice/care about their wounds past "fuck, that's gonna be a bitch to heal" and "damnit now i need new sheets. did i stain my mattress????" and it's also about a promise being made to protect each other bc the amulets they wear gave my brain ThoughtsTM

also demon boy cuddles and napping bc it's a need, not just a want

here's your warning for: blood, nightmares, reader tears themself up in their sleep bc nightmares, but they also don't feel much care about that in particular past "oh no i stressed my boys out oof"

reader is okay and vergil and nero cry. dante nearly does.

long A/N, so sorry, but i needed to kinda show my thought process after not sleeping for 24 hours lol

please enjoy!

─────────────────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅─────────────────

It cycles through me like a storm, leaving me gasping for air. I jolt and can't manage to pry myself from the images in my own head.

Woefully overwhelming.

Equally underwhelming and boring as hell.

Shame I couldn't seem to care past my exhaustion. Even still, my body seemed to do the job of 'scared human' pretty well without my internal fears interfering.

Now if I waited just a moment longer, it should-

I cry out (against my brain's irritation and advice against doing precisely that-) and my eyes meet Dante's worried ones immediately. He's cradling my face and I see Nero nearly run in, arms full of medical supplies of all kinds. My arms feel warm- liquid warm. I groan in frustration, shutting my eyes.

They open again as I hear Nero openly crying through his concern and Vergil comes crashing like a hurricane into the room. His eyes are cold as always, but it's a new type of cold.

My throat is hoarse. I woke them up. I try to lift myself up on my arms before- ugh, fuck it. I slam myself back down and groan again.

Time for new fuckin' sheets. Again.

As Dante cradles me close, Vergil sets down a plastic tub filled with warm water, probably to clean the blood off of where I apparently tore myself open in my sleep. Had I been thrashing that badly? The dream was bad, but it wasn't anywhere near what the real nightmares were when I was a kid, so why…?

Nero wipes away his tears and gets to work wetting one of the many cloths he brought in the room; he soothes it over the flesh of my shoulder.

I look down groggily. Still not awake yet, it seems. Not fully, anyways.

It appears I've mostly gotten my shoulders, arms, and sides- the meatier parts of myself. Not sure if I did it because they were easier to grab onto or because there's more there to damage. Either way, the cloth feels nice and I slump relatively comfortably into Dante's warm arms and Nero's gentle hands.

I try to speak but really, no words come out. I taste blood. They can't smell the blood in my mouth versus the blood soaking into my sheets. My fingers curl into the blanket underneath me. Nero had gotten-

Oh fuck.

Now I start to panic, truly, in full, because Nero had gotten my this blanket and it was my favourite and if I ruined it with my blood, I swear to god-

"Darling, shit, breathe, okay? I know…" Dante sighs, his blue eyes watering and glossy, before continuing, his hands curling against my tensed ones, "…I know you don't really process your nightmares or physical pain the way normal people do, so I know that isn't the problem. Talk to me, what's up?" His voice is comforting, though extremely pressed for an answer.

I clear my throat, once, twice. Swallow down my blood. Don't care much about that part.

"…I got blood on the blanket Nero gave me."

The room goes dead silent. Vergil storms over and drops down to the floor next to my bed with bruising force and I'm not shocked when I hear the floorboards crack underneath the weight of his fall.

My hand reaches to thread through his silver hair and I am shocked when he lets out a sob. He whines into my hands and Nero finally finishes cleaning off all my blood. As his twin lay dormant and sob-choked, Dante starts to bandage my body. The damage wasn't good by any means, but it could've been much worse.

I rake my fingers further through Vergil's hair in apology. He accepts it graciously; didn't blame me to begin with. I know this, but silently apologize nonetheless.

As Dante finishes wrapping my arms, Nero lifts me up (which much protest from his father) and drags the blanket from under me. I'm set back down as Dante lays on the bed and Nero goes downstairs to throw the blanket in the wash before my blood stains it. Luckily it seems to have caught all of my blood, so no new sheets. Just a guilty conscience and burning shoulders for me.

Dante pulls me into his chest, purposefully warming himself as best he could without DTing to soothe my wounds and I snuggle into his body heat. Vergil lays beside us both and nuzzles his face and body closer to our warmth as we comfort one another.

Soon, Nero walks back in as Vergil's tears slow and he too lays in bed, curled into the opposite side of Dante.

Together we all snuggle as Dante turns on a movie. None of us pay attention, of course. Can't seem to make ourselves and we don't really care, either. I half think idly that even Dante isn't sure what movie he put on.

Nero's wings pull a thick comforter over us and we're enveloped in each other's scents as we start to drift off.

We all hold each other.

A promise.

A promise to never leave, to always be there for one another, to take care of one another.

A reminder that there will never be anyone who could hurt any of the others in the room without coming face-to-face with some of the scariest, most vicious motherfuckers on the planet and dying by their hands.

A reminder that us Spardas stick together- even the ones rallied in not by water of the womb but blood of the covenant- and that no nightmares would be allowed without some ass-kicking in this place.

That was our promise.

My fingers reach up to curl protectively over my amulet, at match to Dante's and Vergil's and Nero's- swirling with gold and silver, blue and red. Three initials written delicately into its metal- DVN.

Dante. Vergil. Nero.

It was our promise and they'd never break it so long as they all lived.

I smile and hum contentedly as the three men drape their arms softly over me.

No nightmares could ever reach us- not as long as we were in each other's arms.