#v vitale x reader

[lexiene]

Fragile....they're fragile 😔💓

[ariseur]

they made him this attractive and for what? for him to die??

[maroji-draws]

What do u mean thats not how it went

Two little bitches

[devilmayfamily]

Can I request a shy S/O who has a crush on Vergil/Dante/V and they draw the boys secretly in their sketchbook with little notes like "saw him in those dark blue jeans again he's so beautiful" or "how do I tell him I love him?" etc. The boys stumble upon this and they're so flattered they blush to their chest.

Why is this literally me lol. Hope you enjoy!

Dante

Your sketchbook was filled with sketches of him mostly during training since it was the only time his focus couldn't ver towards you at any given moment

You've indirectly gotten better at drawing action poses and the male torso because of this and the fact that this man goes full Grey Fullbuster and takes off his shirt to train

The other time you're able to draw him is when he's asleep, a magazine covering his face

One particular position you found him laying in had you write a note of "Idk how he's sleeping like this" next to the sketch of it.

Dante has noticed you with this sketchbook and hadn't thought anything of it until he realized he never sees you drawing him in it

His curiosity got the better of him one day and decides to take a look while you left it unattended.

The first few pages were as he expected, sketches of Shadow when she was around, the girls of the team, and even some of the orphanage kids playing from when you would visit Nero and Kyrie

Towards the middle of the book, he found all the sketches of him you'd been hiding

He looks over every single one and reads all the little notes you've left behind

He finds the whole idea of you sketching him cute and endearing

Seeing a particular sketch of him asleep, face facing you, with the note "He looks like he gives nice cuddles" has his face a flame, red tracing all the way down his neck

You drew this scared up man so soft, it was like he was looking at someone else

Vergil

You find going unnoticed by Vergil to be easy

He's always either reading or beating up Dante when not on missions

Vergil finds your sketchbook when he mistakes it for his collection of poems on a particularly sleepy morning

Opening it, he's taken back by all the drawings

It's obvious you have some skill

As he turns the page, he finds an entire spread dedicated to him reading

At the very bottom of the page it reads "he's always reading this thing, i wonder what secrets it holds"

Vergil softly smiles, a faint heat resting across his cheeks wondering if he could share a piece of himself with someone again

He was ready, wasn't he?

Flipping the page he finds a spread dedicated to him cooking, fighting, even simply being dressed up in a suit

"I'll admit, he's sexy in a suit"

Vergil's face sets a flame, the man shutting the sketchbook and replacing it finally with his poems

You become curious by the new sets of suits in the coming days but never complain

V

Griffon stole the sketchbook when you left it unattended

He scolds the bird for digging in your private processions but with a little coaxing from Griffon he looks inside

He's not surprised to see sketches of Shadow and Griffon, the bird boasting about how good he looked

As he turns the page, Griffon teases him for the bright pink blush that spreads across his face upon seeing sketches of himself

"My beautiful muse" is written in a beautiful cursive next to a sketch of V smiling

He flips the page expecting to find something different but it's more drawings of him

"May he ever know how he sets my heart a burning"

V can't help but adore you right then

He smiles, closing the sketchbook as you approach

He looks up to you, his smile causing one to spread across your own face

Griffon makes some comment about leaving you two to it before disappearing

[ransprang]

Can I please request DMC boys V and physical touch hcs with gn!reader? SFW and/or NSFW is fine. Thank you! 💖 🍰

Heyyy I wrote some for the rest of the boys here!!

N/SFW and SFW Headcanons for V:

V is a gentle and mysterious soul, and his touch reflects that nature.

He often brushes his fingers through your hair, his touch feather-light and calming, soothing any worries or anxieties you may have.

V enjoys holding your hand, his grip delicate yet comforting, as if he draws strength from your presence.

When you're sitting together, he occasionally rests his head on your shoulder, seeking solace and a connection to the world.

V appreciates the power of touch in healing, so he's always ready to give you a warm and comforting hug when you need it most.

He often leaves lingering touches on your skin, tracing patterns with his fingertips, a silent expression of his affection.

V is gentle and passionate, his touch a mixture of tenderness and longing.

His hands roam your body with purpose, exploring every inch as if discovering a treasure.

V takes his time with caresses, his fingers tracing slow, sensual patterns on your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He's a master of sensual massages, using his fingers and palms to create a symphony of pleasure, his touch leaving you in a state of bliss.

V's kisses are slow and languid, his lips savoring every moment, igniting a fire deep within you.

Afterward, he holds you close, his touch gentle and protective, his whispered words of affection filling the air.

Your Stick,

Admin Sav

[put-me-out-of-my-destiny]

I am from Gaza, Palestine, the events of extermination and brutal killing are going on our children. I hope that your humanity stands next to me and support my children and help them with something that you can do if it is participation or donation

^

[beneathstarryskies]

Hello! May I please request an NSFW alphabet for V? I love the way you write!

Thanks for the request! I'm sorry this took so long. It's been a while since I wrote a NSFW alphabet.

Warnings: fem!reader, smut, mentions of pegging

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

V is usually the one who requires aftercare. The intimacy of making love can be overwhelming for him, even if you’ve been together dozens of times. He wants to be held and soothed after. 

On the off chance your positions are switched, he is very doting in aftercare. He will hold you and massage your sore muscles. Then, he’ll read you some poetry until you fall asleep. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn’t have a particular part of his body that’s his favorite. If anything, he struggles a lot with insecurity and self-loathing. If you absolutely force him to choose something, he’d be cheeky and say his tongue. Both of you know it’s because of how easily he can make you come undone with just his tongue. 

On you, his favorite body part is your mouth. Not only because you definitely know how to drive him crazy with your mouth, but also because he loves your smile. He loves your voice and watching your lips curl around every word. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

V’s cum is somewhat watery, but there is always a lot of it when he climaxes. The taste is pretty much nonexistent. It’s just a little salty. He’s absolutely weak for watching you swallow it, but his favorite will always be cumming inside of your warm hole. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

V is secretly very jealous of Vergil and feels insecure about their size difference. If you ever ask what being part of Vergil’s body was like, V would lie and say Vergil is lacking in the size department to keep your curiosity from growing. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

V is not very experienced at all. In fact, he only has memories from his time merged with Vergil to go off of. Luckily, he’s a quick and eager learner. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

His favorite position is cowgirl. He likes being at your mercy and having you use him to get yourself off. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is very serious, and almost overly aware of every little thing that happens. Sex can of course be sort of funny and messy in its own right, but if you giggle at something that happens V will get insecure and worry that you’re making fun of him. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is very well groomed, but it’s not like there’s much to groom. He’s naturally bare for the most part. There’s a very sparse patch of hair at the base of his cock that he keeps groomed meticulously, and will even shave completely if you want him to. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

V is very romantic and sometimes a little intense. He’s longed for intimacy and love so deeply that finally having it nearly drives him insane. Quite often you have to cup his cheeks, kiss him softly, and remind him that you’re here with him and not going anywhere. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Generally, he’s not the biggest fan of jacking off. However, if for some reason you’re not around and he’s feeling aroused he’ll take matters into his own hands. His favorite thing is to steal a part of your panties (or even his favorite silky nightgown of yours) and use them to jerk off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves to be dominated and overstimulated. It makes him feel so loved when you take control and just show him so much pleasure. It makes him feel so good. He also has a praise kink the size of Texas and is putty in your hands as soon as you start lavishing him with praise. He’s down to experiment with almost anything. I am begging you to tie him up and call him “pretty boy” he will melt. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Of course his preference is at home, where he can be assured that it’s just the two of you and you have all the time in the world together. He’s not really picky about where in your shared home, just as long as he can take his time. However, he does enjoy taking it to different places except he will always blush the next time he visits said places which can give you away. You’d almost gotten away with fucking in Nero’s van but the next time you were in it together you just HAD to sit down on the sofa exactly where the two of you had fucked. V turned so red Nero thought he was sick, but when Nero spotted the suspicious glances you and V shared he was quick to put it together. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He wants to make you happy all the time, and he’s learned there is no greater bliss than coming undone for one another. So, that’s a big motivator for him. Just knowing he’s got the power to make you writhe and sob with pleasure is enough to get him going. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He wouldn’t have a threesome with either Nero or Dante for obvious reasons. It would just be icky. However, he would be open to sharing with Vergil (if this is an AU where they can exist side by side instead of as one.) 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

There’s no preference between giving and recieving. He loves both pretty equally, which is why he absolutely adores 69 because it’s the best of both worlds. He also LOVES it when you sit on his face. His cock is rock hard as soon as he’s being suffocated between your soft thighs. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

V really prefers it slow and sensual. It feels decadent in a way to just take your time kissing one another and making love. He knows better than most how fleeting existence can be so he doesn’t want to rush the more precious moments if he can help it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers to take his time, but will occassionally indulge. Especially if you ask him with that pretty doe look in his eyes. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is willing to try almost anything once, but it really depends on what the risk is. He wouldn’t do anything that could be harmful to your wellbeing. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

V can last a while, but sometimes does cum quick if he’s particularly worked up. He als has a pretty long refractory period. He is absolutely mortified by this fact, but he does everything to make up for it. He’ll spend the whole time he’s waiting to be able to get hard again going down on you. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t personally own any toys, but if you buy some he’s more than willing to try them. Especially if they will make things better or more exciting for you. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can be a little bit of a tease at times, but he gives in so easily. Just one little pout on your pretty lips has him giving in to you. However, he loves to be teased and wants you to keep teasing him until he’s sobbing for you. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

V is not very loud, although he is talkative. He’s just all breathy whispers and deep moans. He can get a little whiny sometimes, and this can get loud if you’re working him up quite a bit. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

V will wear lingerie and is absolutely beautiful in it. He will wear it for you when he wants to surprise you. Also, he loves getting pegged. You'll always know when he's in the mood for that because he'll be a little brattier than usual.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

V measures in at 7 inches long, and is just a bit above average girth. He is uncircumcised. The tip is a pretty shade of pink, but turns red when he’s hard. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a pretty high sex drive. In fact he has more sex drive than he does stamina. It’s not uncommon for him to push himself to the point of almost passing out. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Almost immediately. Like as soon as he cums, his eyes are heavy. 

[bitterlycursedstars]

VxFem!reader smut

Word count: 962

18+

Summary: An exciting, slightly rough bedroom session with V involving a vibrator and a bit of aftercare

Yes, Sir pt 1&2

"Oh, God, V... Harder..." I begged him between moans.

  "Now sparrow, you know I give the orders. I'll go harder if you're good. Will you be a good girl for me?" He asked, all but stopping his movement. He knew exactly how to torture me and make me obey him.

  "Yes, sir. I'll be good... I promise." I looked into his eyes and began to tear up from the pain of not being able to orgasm.

  "Good." He pulled out slowly, only leaving his tip in me, and then slammed into me as hard as he could, and slipped his hand down to my waist.

  "Hmm. What's this, sparrow? I believe I found something important." He chuckled and looked at me with that devilish smirk. His fingers found my clitoris and began to move quickly in circles.

  "Aah! V!" I yelled and moaned at the same time from pleasure and pain. I ran my hand through his hair and pulled, causing him to growl in pleasure. He suddenly crashed his lips into mine, quieting me with a rough kiss. His tongue massaged mine expertly.

  "Quiet." He pulled away from our kiss and put the finger that was on my clit to his lips in a shushing way. I whimpered at the sudden lack of stimulation, and he heard it. He slowly brought his hand to my lips and traced gently.

  "Suck." He forced his finger into my mouth and demanded. I immediately obeyed, licking and sucking the slightly salty taste of my own juices off of his fingers.

  "Such a good girl, and so beautiful." He moaned as he began to thrust in and out of me again. He closed his eyes and threw his head back in pleasure, and I couldn't help but stare at him.

He was gorgeous, his hair swaying as he moved, and his adam's apple so noticable, the way he was positioned. His soft lips parted ever so slightly, moaning my name.

It was almost too much to bear.

  "Flip over. Now." He pulled himself out of me and commanded.

  "Yes, Sir." I weakly pulled myself up on my knees and rolled over onto my stomach as he said, arching my back to give him the perfect view of my body, which belonged to him, and only him. He was well aware of this, and took full advantage every chance he got.

  "Hands back here, sparrow." He demanded. I reached my arms behind my back, and he took control, crossing them so that I  held my wrists in both hands. He grabbed them tightly, pushing my head deeper into the mattress.

-Pt. 2

  "Now, we're going to play a game. Guess what number I'm thinking of." He chuckled and leaned over to look for something, still holding my wrists with one hand. I heard a door close. A dresser drawer, perhaps?

  "Okay." My word came out muffled from the mattress being against my mouth.

  "Aha. For every wrong guess, I'll have to punish you." He chuckled again. All of a sudden, I heard a loud buzzing noise coming from behind me. "First guess?"

I swallowed hard, knowing what was going to happen if I failed his impossible game. But what choice did I have?

  "22?" I took my first guess.

  "Oh, sparrow... That's not right." He sighed in disappointment. I felt two fingers rubbing my already soaked cunt, opening my folds near my clitoris slightly. The fingers quickly changed to my vibrator, already on max speed. He pressed directly onto my clitoris, making me jump and cry out in surprise.

  "Aah!" I bit my pillow in an attempt to keep quiet. After 30 seconds or so, he finally gave me some relief, and took it away.

  "Next guess?" He gently rubbed my soaking wet hole, causing me to twitch slightly under his touch. I mentally cursed the man behind me for being so calm.

  "Um.... 19?" I hesitated, knowing no matter what I said, I'd get the vibrator once more.

  "I'm afraid not, angel." He was most definitely smirking at this point. I whimpered and tried to prepare for the next round of overstimulation. Once more, he set the vibrator directly on my clitoris, only this time, he also inserted two fingers inside me, thrusting quickly, making me twitch and moan uncontrollably.

  "Oh, God.... V!! Please!!" I yelled out to him to please end my suffering. The moment my orgasm was seconds away, he pulled everything away.

  "Ready to guess again, angel?" He ran his finger up the length of my dripping slit.

  "Please, V... Please no more... It's too much... I can't..." I began to sob as I begged him.

  "Shh, shh, shh. One more time." He lined his hard cock up with my slick hole, and slammed into me, making me cry out in pain and pleasure.

  "Oh fuck.... I... 47." I mumbled through my sobs. I heard him hum in approval, but he still put the vibrator back on my clit, still on full power. He thrusted as fast as he could, and worked my clit expertly. My clitoris was extremely swollen, making me cry harder from the overstimulation. I reached my orgasm within seconds, it being like a wave that I was close to drowning inside of.

  "Fuck... V... I'm cumming... Cumming... V!!" I screamed as loudly as I could into my pillow as my orgasm ran through me.

  "You feel amazing, sparrow." V grunted out between moans, reaching his orgasm alongside me. He pulled away from me, and I completely collapsed on the mattress, unable to catch my breath.

  "V..." I whispered groggily between quiet cries.

  "I'm here, angel. I'm here. You were wonderful." He leaned over and kissed my exposed cheek, while moving a strand of sweaty hair out of my face.

[matchbet-allofthetime]

I saw that requests for DMC were open and I was curious as to if you could write a little scenario where V and reader decide to leave the house for a bit (mission or a date, you can choose) and they have a kid so they decide, "ya know what? Let's let Griffon, Shadow and Nightmare care for the kid while we're away." (It's okay if you want to remove some of the familiars from the babysitting job if you want to).

Have a good day/night

(very long) A/N: my love, your ask has utterly enamoured me and despite me never having wanted kids, this ask has warmed my heart. still don't want children, but i hope you can enjoy! This is so very all over the place and took some time (very busy :') )and I am so very sorry for that.

For a little context, V is half-devil because he came from Vergil. Thus, I decided to make the little child half-devil (technically quarter devil?? I don't consider it a big difference.) Their name is Malacoda (taken from one of the demons in The Divine Comedy)

Bibi is a gender neutral term for parent (in SOME cultures)

Also, multiple POV switches. Sorry lol

Latin translations (and words) have SEVERAL meanings and connotations, so I have made a list of those used in order:

ad minima inferno- the tiny inferno amica parum pueri- darling little child/wonderful child infernum pueri- hell's child/spawn of hell dulcedo- sweetling/sweetness parvus- small, little (used as a term of endearment)

Tending To The Flame

Word Count: 2026

Have a lovely day/night yourself, dear, and…

…Enjoy below the cut!

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

After the last mission, a date was a need, not a want. The tension finally left my shoulders after a day or two, but was quick to return with the stresses of having a child- and said child being half-devil.

I sigh heavily, Malacoda finally resting on their uncle Dante's shoulder. The older man laughs fondly and brushes the thick silver hair on Malacoda's head out of their eyes. He shakes his head fondly at the exhausted toddler. I smile.

"Y'know, Dante, you don't need to help tire the kid out." I say, laughing as he adjusts his long legs on the couch in the DMC's parlour. He just shakes his head at me.

"Nah, it's fine. 'Sides, didn't play much with Vergil when we were young because of the fire, so… I really don't mind keeping watch of the kid sometimes. In any case, I guess ad minima inferno is cute enough to keep around." Dante jokes, moving his free arm to grab a blanket and swaddle my child. I grin.

A clack is heard and I turn, seeing Nero and Vergil coming in from their mission. Both smile at Malacoda and Vergil walks over to rest a hand on their head.

"You're a good parent, you know? Taking care of such a demon and doing so with a better heart than most would." Vergil states. His voice is softer than usual and he smiles at the child currently nestled into his twin's bicep and shoulder like a sloth wrapped around the branches of a tree.

Nero laughs behind me. "Maybe you two-" He says, pointing over to V before continuing, "-should take a day off. Leave the kid to someone else for the day." My eyes go a bit wide but I find I laugh with him. I shake my head as V stifles a laugh behind me.

I press into him with a practiced sort of ease and he kisses my hair.

"Wouldn't that be something, love, a day for just us, away from our amica parum pueri, hm? Perhaps enjoying the stars, or a lovely dinner?" V replies coolly, directing his attention toward me as he kisses me. Vergil chuckles and Nero makes a fake gagging noise before smiling. I drop my shoulders.

"Maybe we could? I don't wanna leave my baby, but… a day would be nice. Are you sure? Who would we leave them with? I'm sure none of these three would want a toddler on their hands as… fickle as our Malacoda." I say, looking to Dante. He tosses up his free hand in surrender and mouths "not fuckin' me." Nero whistles and leaves the room and Vergil merely shakes his head, a sly grin present on his lips. I groan.

Dante lifts Malacoda gently and pads up the stairs to put my child to bed for the night and as V and I follow, we talk. I didn't expect what V might suggest as Dante leaves the room, though.

"My love, truly, it's going to be alright. They shall not hurt our infernum pueri, I promise that." V says, attempting to win a night with just us. I slump in bed.

"Okay, say we do this- I can understand Shadow. She's a delicate thing and fond of Malacoda. But… Can Griffon and Nightmare really be trusted with her?" I ask, concerned, even as I brush my hands through his beautiful hair. He takes my hands and kisses my wrists. I giggle as memories of watching Gomez and Morticia Addams growing up floods my mind. V was always so gentle and loving. I see him smile cheekily from where his head dips low. He nods.

"Nightmare is just as enamoured with the little one as Shadow is. And Griffon, as foul-mouthed and moody as he can be, he truly does want to try to care for them. He likes the little thing we've created. And he's worried about you." V responds, rubbing soothing circles on my palms. At his words, Shadow, Griffon, and Nightmare appear in the doorway. I laugh at the silly display. Shadow is attempting to lick frosting off of her moist nose, Nightmare is wearing a frilly pink and green apron embroidered with strawberries and wildflowers and has a plate of cupcakes balanced gently in his root-like hands. On his shoulder perches the aforementioned Griffon, and he's busy gnawing his way through blueberries and blackberries.

At the scene, V laughs with me until we're doubled over. I gather myself just in time to feel a soft, wet, warm nose push against my hand where it hangs off the bed. I turn and scritch gently at Shadow's snout and she huffs out a content purr. As I move to scratch at her ears and under her chin, she gives a very puma-cat-like smile and she blinks her eyes shut momentarily, enjoying the affections. She opens her eyes pleadingly and the soft look she gives warms me.

Similarly, Griffon glides down from the great golem's shoulder, the golem setting the cupcakes down gently. They smell warm. Griffon tucks himself into the bedspread and allows my second hand to gently run through thick black feathers. He rolls over, spreading his wings in a display of satisfaction and I laugh. I pet his belly.

"Thanks, nothin' quite like good belly rubs to end a good day!" Griffon says, voice loud but happy. Shadow purrs her agreement deeply into my lap where her head lays. Nightmare, for his part, has sat gently on the carpet alongside the unholy puma, and nods his own approval.

V nuzzles into my shoulder and kisses at my skin. "I promise my love, they've been desperately awaiting the moment to care for Malacoda. They've not left me alone since-" V is cut off by Griffon.

"Since we saw the kid and wanted to meet 'em!" Griffon finishes. V chuckles and nods.

"Very true. They were all so excited to meet a small demon. They've never seen one." V continues. "They'll take care of our little demon, I promise you, dulcedo."

I nod and finally give in. I couldn't say no to cupcakes and sad puma eyes.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

As I finished getting ready for the night, I hear V come up behind me. He's dressed brilliantly, cane still by his side, his green and black suit complimenting his dark eyes. I give a little squeal of excitement and he laughs, kissing me.

I myself am well-dressed, set upon making this night a very good one. "Are they ready for us to go?" I ask V, brushing his hair away from his cheekbones. He holds my hand and nods.

"Yes, they are more than ready. Griffon is a bit nervous, but I promise, my love, no harm will come to our little one." V promises, kissing my hand.

"Okay, so," I start, taking a shaky breath before continuing, "We're gonna leave, so please: no burning the DMC down, no excess rude words, and I swear on Sparda's disembodied corpse: if anything happens to my beautiful little hellspawn and I find out about it, I am single-handedly making everything that has ever occurred in Hell seem like second grade recess. I will give you a reason to fear me like Sparda would had he ever met me." My tone is light and playful, but not without its serious notes to it. I was willing to kick some familiar ass and they all three knew it.

Nightmare dips his body some in understanding and I move to pet Shadow's chin. Griffon nods sharply once and fluffs his wings nervously. I reach to pet him too and pat Nightmare's arm.

"I know you're all gonna do great. Just no talons or teeth when playing, okay? And if Malacoda goes demon on you, just give them some snacks. Always calms them down. Alright, i think that's it. Be safe, all of you We'll be back late, so don't wait." I say, joy lacing my voice. My little devil grins at me, showing sharp teeth.

"Bye bibi, bye da!" Malacoda says from their perch on Nightmare's shoulder. Their bright green eyes glow and their little horns are showing clear as day through the tufts of their braided hair. I blow them a little kiss.

V smiles down at me and with that, we're off.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Later in the night, loud purring and playful feline growling is heard throughout the- mostly- empty DMC. In the kitchen, food is being made by none other than Nightmare while Shadow playfully bats at Malacoda as they try to snag her tail. The moment little clawed hands grab it successfully, Shadow flips over onto her back, playing weak. The child giggles loudly.

"Won, I won!!" They yell, gently tapping their hands on Shadow/s belly. She rumbles with joy.

"Yeah you did, good job kid!" Griffon replies, pattering his way over to the two. He places a baggie of sweet treats in Malacoda's arms. "Don't tell your parents, but I snuck you some treats from Dante's cabinet with his permission. Your bibi'll kick my ass if they find out." He chirps, gently pecking at the little tail of the child flipping wildly.

At the cuss, Nightmare growls deeply.

"Aight aight, I'm sorry! Forgot for a moment… Didn't mean it." Shadow squawks out, flapping his wings.

Nightmare simply growls out a small noise of satisfaction and drags a few plates of food out.They're set unceremoniously onto the tiled floor. They're all content to eat on the floor of the kitchen, uncaring of the potential mess to be made. It was simply easier for a golem, panther, and bird- not to mention a messy toddler currently gnawing through lamb meat, green beans, and potatoes while trying to simultaneously grab the poor vulture's feathers. Griffon squawks playfully and gnaws into his own leg of lamb.

Once the meal is over, there's quite a mess- one that Nightmare is quick to clean as Griffon wrangles the child going through an after-dinner energetic spree. Their horns singe at the tips, a byproduct of their bloodline, and they, of course, run rampant through the living room as any toddler does. Their little tail flicks excitedly and the building is filled with loud childish giggles and a concerned "kid, you'll hurt yourself-!".

As the bird tries to wear the child out while keeping them safe, Shadow and Nightmare take to respectively dragging blankets to the couch and cleaning the dishes for the evening. Soon, Malacoda lays down on the floor at Griffon's feet.

"Aww, parvus, you're tired, aren't'cha?" Griffon coos at the little half-devil. He gently digs claws into the child's shirt and drags them gently up the couch, nestling them in like a baby bird. Shadow follows, tucking herself under the blankets and resting with the child. The demon-spawn is beginning to doze, and Nightmare sits by the couch, taking his own time to rest for the night.

As they all doze, Griffon realizes he'd love to do this again. And he loved the kid too- how could he not?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Late in the night, the DMC is quiet, but the front doors open as you and V walk in. It was a lovely evening, peaceful and filled with poetry and romance. It always happened that way with V, it seemed.

The two of you are quick to note nothing seems out of order- not any more than Dante usually keeps it, anyways. You set out to explore the building and when V comes across his sleeping familiars and child, he snickers. He's quick to call you from the other room.

"Come over, my love. You'll love to see this, I imagine." V speaks softly. You round the corner into the living room, only to smile widely. You dip into V's shoulder, resting your head against him. He kisses your hair. "I told you they'd do wonderfully."

You laugh quietly. "Mm, true. How about we let them sleep and head to bed? My husband owes me a few more kisses." You say.

"Oh, an enticing offer, my dear. Shall we?" And with that, V takes your hand and guides you both away.

[xxladyballadxx]

Night walk (fluff)

V x reader

-He takes you out for a night walk whenever he’s free. 

-V never brings his little shadowy companions along, especially that annoying chicken. 

-You and V would watch the beautiful midnight sky whenever the gleaming stars appear. 

-Sometimes you have a night picnic with V.

-V embraces you and pecks your lips with a kiss underneath the moonlit sky. 

-You always hold his hand whenever you go out for a lovely night walk with him. 

-You lie down on the grass with your loverboy while watching the stars shining up in the dark blue sky, holding hands. 

[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.

[maroji-draws]

It's a poetic name isn't it

I hate myself for this pun LMFAOOO

[devilmayfamily]

holds out cup a little crumb of dmc boys x reader with add/adhd please? maybe with some angst sprinkled in? i don't mean to be greedy, i am just a small simp 😔

GN!Reader Angst/Comfort Think I made myself tear up a little with these haha enjoy!

Dante

When you find something you love, you can talk about it for hours

Lucky for you, Dante loves hearing about your hypertfixations

He finds it wonderful to see you excited about something and wants to know everything you can about it

One day while talking to Dante, you notice him seemingly not paying as much attention as he usually does

He'd been writing in a notebook the entire you'd been talking

You instantly begin to think you might be annoying him or boring him and slowly stop talking

When you do, he looks up at you worried

"What's wrong sweet pea? Why did you stop talking?"

"Do I... Do I annoy you?"

He's quite shocked

You could never annoy him!

"Never! I love when you tell me all about the things you are interested in!"

"You've been looking at that notebook this entire time though"

Dante softly smiles before flipping the notebook so you see it

On the page is a list of everything you've ever told Dante about, new and old

"I've been keeping a list of the things you like. I was adding this to it"

Dante pulls you in, kissing all over your face until you start laughing

He will reassure you anytime you need it and sometimes even when you don't expect it

He loves listening to you ramble on and on and he won't ever let you think otherwise

Vergil

Vergil is a man with his own problems and one of those is perfection

Growing up, Vergil worked hard to earn his father's approval and maintain it

Getting ready for a mission one day, Vergil notices lots of things are missing or out of place

"Sweetheart, where is everything? I need to get going soon"

"Oh! It's, um..."

"Sweetheart, please"

"I remember! I promise! It's- It's..."

"Y/N! Why can't you just remember these things?!"

Vergil instantly regretted yelling at you

He knew you were trying your hardest

He couldn't get his apology in, however, as you ran off and he had to get to this mission at this point

You spent the rest of the day with Nero, the kid making threats to his father and reassuring you

When Vergil came home, he was greeted by an angry Nero

"You better fix this"

Nero lets his father in, taking him to you instantly

You're curled up on the couch, a look of fear when you see Vergil walk in

It breaks Vergil to see you scared of him, its the one thing he didn't want to do

"I'm sorry, love"

He has a few gifts for you; your comfort food, a soft sweater in Vergil's signature royal blue and a matching blanket

Without warning, you pull Vergil into a hug, ignoring the gifts

He holds you tightly, as close as he can get you to him

Vergil works on forgetting about perfection because really, nothing will ever be perfect

As long as he has you though, it's near damn perfect

V

He lost you

Again

"Angel! Come back! Where are you?!"

He told you to stay right next to him while he talked to this guy to get info

Now, he turns and finds you've run off

Again

"Angel!!"

It wasn't safe for you out here

Who knows what demon or monster of a human would find you

V knows you can hold your own but that doesn't stop him from worrying about you when you venture off like this

As V rounds a corner, he sees you battling it out with a demon

A demon that just pierced your leg

"YOU INSISTENT FOOL, LET GO OF THEM"

The demon flings you in a different direction before growling at the poet

V takes down the demon before rushing over to you

You were laying on the asphalt, the pincer of the demon still stuck in your leg

V doesn't say anything to you, just helps you up and gets you back to home base as quickly as possible

Vergil patches you up and makes sure you don't try running after your boyfriend back onto the battlefield

Later when V and Dante come back, Vergil leads Dante out of the room so you and V could talk

"I'm sorry for running off again"

"Oh angel"

V pulls you into a hug, trying not to hurt your leg

"Not out of sight anymore, please"

The two of you work on it over the next few weeks leading up to your next mission together

V's gentle with you as well, softly reminding you when you need it until it becomes second nature

And if you have to get out of his sight for something, you tell him before running off. A lot of the time he follows

V also reminds you he loves you more than anything

He doesn't want you getting hurt again

He has trust in you though

While you can't help it every time, he trusts that you'll come back in one piece

His little wanderer

Nero

You weren't listening again

Your attention was somewhere else and Nero could tell

He was trying to brief you on a mission but you weren't taking in anything he was saying

"Baby, you getting any of this?"

Focusing on Nero, you stiffen and your face becomes pale

You realize you've been daydreaming the entire time and the look on Nero's face tells you everything

He's disappointed

Blotches of color return to your face as hot tears slowly roll down your cheeks

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Nero watched as you bow your head, holding your wrist out, the sight making his heart ache

He knew the orphanage people were terrible to you for being a little different than everyone else but the stance you held was so defenseless, it was like you were expecting someone to hit you

He slowly walks over, taking your hand in his

He sits down next to you on the couch, slowly putting your arm down

You look up at him, the scared confused expression stained with tears making Nero tear up himself

"I'm not upset, baby"

You begin to cry again, this time pulling Nero into a hug

He holds on to you, slowly rubbing your back and whispered soothing reassurance into your ear

"You're safe now. I won't hurt you like they did"

"I'm sorry"

Nero quietly shushes you, telling you it's ok

Once you'd calmed down and Nero checked in with you to make sure you were ok, he slowly went back over the mission

He checked in with you to make sure you understood and rewarded you with kisses when you were able to repeat back to him

If you couldn't, that was ok. Nero simply went back over whatever part he was on

He was forced to watch back then when you two were kids, getting punished for being different. Sometimes taking extra beatings for trying to save or defend you

He wasn't going to let that continue now

You may be different, but that wasn't going to stop him from loving you anyways

He reassures you and rewards you for any and everything

You may be different but that's exactly what Nero loved about you

[ransprang]

Hi! Since you're asking for request i have a nsfw for you. Dante has a crush on the small seamstress who repair his trenchcoats. She's gonna make him a new one (maybe the one of DMC5?) so she gonna take him the new measurements and maybe Dante having her so close he decide to go wild and release all his sexual frustations?

Okay so this was revealed to me in a dream! Enjoy

Dante x F!reader (N/SFW in the trenches of love)

- descriptions of BJ

Dante made a routine visit to his local seamstress after a battle as usual. He particularly liked going there as he enjoyed the company and sight of the special y/n. She was known for her sewing far and wide but more than that Dante got flutters in his stomach and urges he would rather not share with anyone. This felt less of a chore and more of a break to him after a fight.

As Dante reached y/n's boutique he felt a bit nervous, but carried on regardless. He stepped into the shop looking for her, with a smirk on his face. He was up to no good today, Dante was feeling a little naughty. Y/n returned Dante the banter he brought with him, she countered his flirtatious attitude while keeping a modest distance due to her shy nature.

"Y/n you know what time of the month it is, and its not what you think!" he finger gunned and earned a raised eyebrow from the disappointed seamstress. "Dante, looks like you've outgrown good humor and perhaps your measurements too, now stand there so I can measure you." He rolled his eyes with a smile and stood before the woman, she was shorter than him. y/n's head came up to the base of his neck so she had to look up to maintain eye contact while he looked down. He could've almost kissed that forehead Dante thought to himself. He just gave her an awkward giggle as she maintained a ever so smiley face which she kept whenever Dante was around.

Y/n took out her measuring tape and started going around his shoulders. wrote something in her notepad, then she measured his chest and did the same. Then she measured his waist "still cinched...", Dante laughed and rubbed the back of his head embarrassed. He was feeling urges of letting his intrusive thoughts win but he was holding back his tongue as to not embarrass himself further after his entrance joke.

Y/n finally got on her knees and wrapped her measurement tape around his hips and was getting the reading near his zipper when suddenly she heard "suck it". y/n raised her eyebrows in shock, losing her smile to gasp and look up. Dante was looking down biting his lower lip. His expression showing a tad bit of disappointment that he actually said that, mixed with clear restraint. Dante subconsciously took his hand and placed it at the back of y/n's head and whispered again "suck it" with more conviction. He knew the situation was too far gone after the first time he said it so he decided to commit.

Y/n was struck with confusion but she didn't want to say no. Her hands let loose of the measuring tape and let it slip as her hands slid to the sides of his pants. After a moment of silence, Dante was losing his patience and his hard on was pushing against his zipper, so close to her mouth. He used his free hand to slowly unzip his pants and pulled down his trousers. Y/n looked at his dick, its pink tip touching the tip of her nose. She could feel a churning feeling in her heart, heart beating fast and mouth salivating. Y/n breathed heavily looking up into his ocean blue orbs. She slowly moved her soft lips and wrapped them around his member and slowly started moving back and forth with the aid of his hand hold back her hair in a pony.

Dante let out a sigh of relief and threw his head back, closing his eyes. "Aaah" he released as he increased the pace of y/n's head bopping by pushing her head. She gagged, increasing the grip against the sides of his hips. It was long since Dante felt the pleasure of having a woman's lips on his cock and especially a woman he actually liked. As he grew closer to climax he gritted his teeth and tensed his stomach as he groaned. He thrust faster into y/n's mouth as she choked and her saliva dripped down her chin. He made one last thrust pushing her head hard towards the base of his dick and counter thrusting as far as he could down her throat. She felt warm jizz slide down her throat as he closed his eyes tightly breathing relief through his mouth.

Y/n finally had the strength to push herself away and fall back on her bum on the floor. Dante immediately tucked his semi hard penis inside his pants, forgetting to unzip his pants. He dropped down to sit right next to her. Y/n was looking at him with a small smile as he panicked to grab the nearest fabric laying around in her shop to help clean up the saliva mess. y/n was finally catching her breath and she let out a laugh, Dante saw the lightheartedness and laughed with her and they both just giggled for a bit at the events that just happened. He had his hand around her shoulder give her a strong squeeze "that....was very good y/n, didn't know you had more talents". Y/n had a massive smile on her face "This was my first time", -"What?!!!" he let out a shocked exclaim. Y/n laughed "well yeah, I don't have the time nor any hot men that come around." Dante actually had a concerned and shocked expression, he seemed to be speechless. Y/n got up with the most arrogant smile and corrected her dress, "well Dante get up we still have work to get done." he got up baffled and wide eyed, Dante knew he was so impressed and he would definitely be paying more frequent visits.

Your Saliva,

Admin Sav

[nekoyin]

PEOPLE OF TUMBLR I HAVE A REQUEST

//NSFW im searching for smut fics again

I am in search for a smutty lil v/vitale x reader from dmc5 where he like uses his cane on us and chokes the shit outta us i think idk BUT I CANT FIND IT

if yall could help id be forever in your favor 🙏🙏

[babybluebex]

needs and wants | eric aqpdo x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in the direct aftermath of the apocalypse, you meet a man who's worse for wear in just about every regard. even though you can't do too much to heal his injuries, it's possible that you can heal his heart. wc 10.6k (she's a doozy) 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: eric (a quiet place: day one, 2024) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: SPOILERS FOR AQPDO, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT THE FILM SPOILED!, mentions of death/general apocalypse things, panic attacks, mentions of suicidal thoughts/actions (if you know eric's backstory that ended up cut from the film, he talks ab it), far too much intimacy for what this is, smut (minors dni): p in v, tit sucking, condom use 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: umm... i have no excuse for this... other than i need eric on a carnal level lol. hope you enjoy!!

It was funny how your whole world could change in a single day. And it was supposed to be a good day too; you had racked up enough PTO to allow yourself a full day off of work, and you had plans. You were going to brunch with your girlies that you hadn’t seen since nursing school, you were going to rent a movie at home, watch rom-coms in your underwear— you looked forward to sleeping in, taking a bubble bath, going to sleep early. You only achieved one part of that: you hadn’t even received the mimosa pitcher you had ordered when you heard the noise outside, as loud as a rocket taking off on the street just outside the hip brunch place, and you had hardly turned to look out the window when your world fell apart. 

Silence became your norm. Fear overtook you at every turn, giving your hands a perpetual shake that you weren’t certain would ever wear off. You didn’t know too much psychological or neurological stuff— you were a trauma nurse, emergency room and ICU type stuff, you were more concerned with stopping the blood flow and stabilizing vitals than ever caring about the after-effects of shit— but you wondered if the shaking of your hands was forever part of you now. You were good under pressure, never scared, but whatever the fuck those creatures were out there had changed the makeup of your being in a single second. 

When the helicopters buzzed overhead, drawing the monsters toward them and away from the city, and they announced that boats were departing from a nearby dock, you knew you had to go. More than saving yourself, you knew some very hurt and very sick people would gather there. You were sure that FEMA people would be swarming the boats to take care of the sick and injured, but you didn’t know what else to do. Your brain went on a sort-of autopilot, and you did the only thing you could think to do: you followed the crowd out to the docks. 

You had never gone that long without talking. Your throat was so dry from debris and dust anyway that you weren’t even sure that you could talk. Your clothes were torn, various small injuries that weren’t anything some disinfectant and a Band-Aid couldn’t fix, along with a gash on your calf that you had determined would be fine for now but could definitely use some tending-to once on the boat, plus your shaky hands, but otherwise you were fine. When the windows shattered and the monsters invaded, your table had overturned from the force of the sonic blast, and your animal instincts kicked in, throwing yourself behind the table and barricading there. You were one of the lucky ones— you lived. Sure, glass cut up your knees and palms, and you couldn’t even breathe without worrying that your breaths would alert the monsters, but you had lived. That was more than some could say. 

You felt packed out like sardines on the boat. Standing room only, except for the few exceptions of the people who were hurt or passed out. You had meager belongings in your pockets, although you weren’t sure how helpful your dead cell phone or essentially-useless credit cards would be in a time like this, but at least you had your work badge in your purse when you went to brunch. You found someone who looked like they were in charge, dressed in all-grey, not a military uniform but not civilian clothes either, and you silently showed them your badge, declaring yourself as a trauma nurse at a hospital in Brooklyn, and you gestured around, trying to ask if there was anything you could do to help. The woman shook her head, but folded her hands in a sort of ‘thank-you’ gesture.

You managed to stand towards the back of the ship, against the railing, next to the ladder, and you flinched at the loud chug of the boat casting off from the dock. Surely the monsters heard that. Everybody around you seemed to hold a deep breath, anticipatory, awaiting the worst to come at your final moments of salvation, but thankfully the monsters weren’t concerned with you all— maybe you were too far out in the water and, if the announcements from the helicopters were to be believed, the monsters couldn’t swim, so they didn’t care too much about the boat. Or maybe, the sudden sound of glass shattering from the shore, followed by shrill car alarms, captured their attention better. 

You watched, horrified, as you spotted a woman racing down the street, hardly noticeable from the distance, but the sun glinted off of a silver metal pipe in her hand as she raised it in the air, and she smashed the window of the car next to her as she raced away. 

“Hell’s she doing…?” The man next to you mumbled, and you instinctively put your hand on his shoulder to silence him, even though there was no need. The world had changed in a day, habits had formed in 24 hours, and you wondered how long it would take to shake the new habits. You watched the woman flit between cars, trying to outpace the monsters as she smashed windows, but then something else caught your attention. On the dock, there was a man. Wearing a yellow sweater, carrying something that you couldn’t identify, running like his life depended on it towards the edge of the dock. And maybe it did; a few straggling monsters had started after him instead of the woman, and he had to have known as well as you did that the water was safe. 

Your heart rammed up into your throat as he ran, faster and faster, white sneakers hitting the metal dock, and he looked over his shoulder for a moment at the monster that was meters, feet, away from him, before he righted himself forward and hurtled himself off the edge of the dock. Everyone on the boat was watching now as he flew for a brief moment, suspended in the air as time stood still, and then plummeted into the water below. The monsters skidded to a halt at the edge of the dock, one curled claw extended out, a scrap of yellow cardigan stuck on its talon. 

By now, everyone had come to the same conclusion, and started to gather at the ladder onboarding right next to you— the man would need help coming aboard. You all watched anxiously as he surfaced from the water, frantically looking around and gulping air as he tried to keep his head above water and orient himself. Finally, he looked towards the boat, and you could have sworn that he looked at you instead of anybody else. He gained his senses quickly, starting to swim out towards the boat, and you caught sight of the little white whatever-it-was he was holding: a cat. The cat seemed safe and unharmed, definitely soggy but no worse for wear, and you crouched down, extending your arm down the ladder to meet him. 

You didn’t have the strength to help pull him aboard, but the man who had spoken next to you gently moved you, and he grasped the wet man’s arm and pulled him up the last few rungs of the ladder. He heaved breaths, his eyes all big and round as he took in his surroundings. Then, if you were unsure whether he was looking at you before or not, he extinguished any doubts you had this time around, because his eyeline landed on you. He was startled, hurt, traumatized— those wet eyes had seen some things, worse than you had seen. 

You helped him move away from the ladder and back towards a more secluded part of the boat, and the FEMA woman you had “talked” to before came to your side, a first aid kit in one hand and a heavy wool blanket in the other. 

“Sir?” you croaked. Jesus Christ, speaking really was a challenge. You cleared your throat, hoping that would improve things, and you said, “Sir, are you hurt?” 

He shook his head quickly, clutching the cat in his arms, and you spotted the gash on his shin. The leg of his pants was torn and shredded, and you could bet that the wound was pretty fresh. “You can speak,” you told him gently. “We’re safe here.” 

He looked at you, tears streaming down his face, and in a hushed voice, said, “How can you be so sure?” 

They said the boat ride would last through the day and you would arrive by nightfall, but FEMA assured you that the destination would be worth it. A little island, they said, off the northern coast of the state, that used to house a summer camp but was abandoned however long ago. The buildings there, houses, old camp cabins, would take some sprucing up, they told you, but it was safe, and it could turn into home. As night fell, factions were made, and people divided as best as possible— the vulnerable ones, the hurt ones, the kids, went to the inside part of the boat, and the healthy stayed outside, huddled under the wool blankets and trying to forget the cold November ocean air berating their faces. 

The yellow-cardiganed man was moved inside, and you moved through the small crowd in there, doing what you could to help. Passing out crackers and water bottles, winding gauze around bloody injuries, squeezing hands and offering small words of encouragement. It wasn’t a lot, but it felt good to help. 

Eventually, you couldn’t ignore your fatigue anymore, and you sat down on the floor against the back wall with a sigh. It was a low din inside there, so you felt relatively safe making a little bit of noise, and you sniffled and zipped open the inside pocket of your coat. The stuff you had stashed from your purse was in there, and you frowned down at your brick of a cell phone, the screen shattered. You cast it aside, then pulled out your wallet, rifling through it to see what went missing. Thankfully, your license was still there, so if anybody needed identification at any point, you had that covered; an old fast food gift card that you were sure still had money on it but was useless now; and an old paper movie ticket that you had saved with the intention of putting it in a scrapbook. Your heart panged with hurt, and you checked every other section of your wallet, but it was empty. 

Your house keys were certainly back on the floor of the restaurant, and you thought about the key to your mother’s house that lived on the ring. You hadn’t been able to contact her since the monsters came— the last thing you said to her was a text the morning of brunch, telling her to have a good day, and she had sent the classic mom :-) emoticon to you. Was she still alive? Had she managed to escape the monsters? Even though she didn’t live in the city, you wondered how far the monsters had traveled. Her neighbors were a family, with a high-school age son who played basketball and mowed your mother’s lawn; for your sanity, you chose to believe that they had taken her in (along with her prized African violets). 

A little noise came from in front of you, someone clearing their throat, and you looked up through your welling tears to see him. Damp yellow cardigan, wool blanket loose around his shoulders, curls wet and flat to his forehead. He stood still, watching you for a moment, before he spoke, a little louder than the first time but still a whisper. “Never caught your name,” he said. An accent. Not a native New Yorker. 

You told him with a shrug. Your eyes canvassed his frame, watching him shiver a little in what was probably an adrenaline rush, and your eyes landed on that nasty cut on his shin. It wasn’t actively bleeding, but still very red. It looked maybe a little inflamed, a tiny bit swollen, and you started to reach out for it, but stopped yourself. Your hands were filthy and, if infection was already setting in the way you suspected it was, whatever germs you had probably weren’t good for the wound. You withdrew your hand and settled in your lap, and you cleared your throat. “One of the FEMA people can help with that,” you told him, nodding towards his leg. “Bandages and anti-inflammatories and shit.” 

“Aren’t you a nurse?” the man asked, now his turn to nod at you. You had clipped your badge to the collar of your coat and, even though the plastic flower that had once surrounded the metal clip was shattered and long gone, the clip still served its purpose. 

“I am,” you said. “But I don’t have bandages.” You cracked a loose smile, and you winced at the bottle of water and pile of crackers next to you on the floor. “I’ve got crackers and water.” 

“I’m starving,” he told you, returning the small smile. “May I?” 

You nodded, and he worked himself down to the floor (he seemed to be favoring his left ankle a little, the same leg with the gash). He settled back against the wall, sighing heavily, and he took a pack of crackers into his hands and read the label for a moment. “‘Peanut butter’,” he read. “D’ya like these?” 

“They’re alright,” you said. “I used to buy the same ones, shove ‘em in my work bag to eat between patients. Kinda bland and gross, but they get the job done.” 

He nodded, and he tore the corner of the plastic sleeve and extracted a peanut butter cracker. “I used to like the ones with, erm, cream cheese and chives,” he said. “A quick snack at work. S’never what I wanted to eat, but sometimes I’d be at the office ‘til late, and at that point, take what you can get, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “What did you do?” 

“Lawyer,” he said, popping one of the crackers into his mouth. 

“Oh, shit,” you chuckled. “Yeah, you had some long nights… My sister’s husband is a paralegal, he used to tell me all about it.” 

“Cool,” he told you. “And you, Miss Nurse?”

“And me what?” you asked.

“What’s your husband do?” he asked. 

You laughed. You couldn’t help it. “I’d have to have one of those for him to have a job,” you said. “No, being a nurse is very, like… If you’re not married by the time you leave nursing school, all hope is lost. You won’t ever have any free time to go on dates or even think about that sorta stuff.” 

“Same with law school,” he told you. “All my mates were engaged or married when we graduated, and everyone always told me, ‘Oh, Eric, you’ll find the right girl! She’s out there somewhere’, and it’s like… If she’s not in my office building or on the subway home at 2AM, I’m not meeting her.” 

“You went to school around here?” you asked, and he (you assumed his name was Eric, based on his anecdote) nodded, then shrugged. 

“Cornell,” he said. “Then got hired at a firm in the city, and just… Never left.” 

“Well, that’s cool,” you said lightly. “I’m assuming you’re not from around here?”

He shook his head. “Kent,” he said. “About an hour out from London.”

“Wow,” you said softly. “That change must’ve been… A lot.”

Eric shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “It was alright, I suppose. At that time, I was sorta fighting with my dad all the time, really wanting to leave and go somewhere but he didn’t want that…” He trailed off, letting the conclusion form by itself. “Haven’t seen ‘em in-person since then. I always said I was busy, or it was too expensive, or… I was supposed to go back home at Christmas… My sister had a baby and I was supposed to meet him then…” He trailed off, obviously at a loss for what else to say, and you sighed.

“I’m sure they’re okay,” you told him, even though you yourself doubted it. “I mean, maybe the monsters are only here. They don’t like water; if they came from here, they can’t get over there.”

Eric nodded slowly. His eyes scanned the room, looking and listening, and he reached his hand out in front of him, making a small noise with his tongue against his teeth. You followed his gaze and found his cat, all furry with white and black spots, being adored and pet by a little boy sitting on a cot close by, and Eric tutted at the cat again. The cat turned their big dark eyes to their owner, and dutifully trotted over, snuggling in-between Eric’s criss-cross-applesauce legs.

“Who’s this?” you asked.

“Frodo,” Eric said, stroking the cat between his ears. Frodo began to purr, his eyes closing blissfully, and Eric said, “He was my friend’s, but she… She told me to take care of him.”

Your mind brought back the image of the woman running, distracting the monsters away from Eric. “Was that the one who…?” you started, and Eric nodded.

“He was her service animal,” he said. “She had cancer, he sort-of alerted her whenever her pain medication was going out… Also kept her company in hospice. He’s quiet, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Well, none of us have to worry about that,” you said, and Eric took in a breath. “Not anymore. Not with the island.”

“Right,” Eric sighed. “Almost forgot.”

“I’m worried I’ll never go back to normal,” you admitted. “Even just two days of thinking like this… Trauma’s so fucking weird.”

Eric nodded in agreement. You caught him staring at your hands, shaking and shivering as they laid in your lap, and he started to unwind the blanket from around himself to settle over you, but you shook your head. “M’not cold,” you told him. “Just… Nervous. Y’know?”

Eric watched you for a moment, making sure that you weren’t bullshitting him (you were a little; your coat was wet through, and you definitely could do with a dry coat, but you would live), and he said, “I think you need to pet my cat.”

“Do I?” you asked with a chuckle.

“You sure do,” Eric nodded. “He doesn’t bite or scratch— he might nibble your fingers a little, but only ‘cause he’s curious.”

You reached out for Frodo, letting him sniff your hand a little before he shoved his solid little head under your fingers, squinting his eyes as you started to scratch behind his ears. You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, and you said, “He’s very sweet.”

“He’s smart too,” Eric said. “He can do maths. Look’it: Frodo, what’s one minus one?”

Frodo, of course, responded in silence, and Eric smiled, cocking his head. “I think that’s impressive,” he said, and you huffed out a laugh.

“Silly,” you mumbled under your breath, moving to scratch Frodo on his chin. “When’s the last time he’s eaten? I can try to find something for him.”

“Last night,” Eric said, his smile faltering. “Sam might’ve given him something earlier this morning, but I didn’t wake up until later.”

That’s how you greeted the island, petting Frodo and sharing light stories about your past lives. Nothing too heavy or sad or emotional, even though it felt like any story about your past life held an air of sadness and mourning. You could try to go back to normal, but normal was long gone. As everyone departed the boat under the dusky stars, there was a large team of FEMA workers to greet you with big, heavy bags and send you to an empty cabin for the night. You and Eric (and Frodo) stuck together, and you received your bags and moved down to a cabin. To your surprise, the lights worked, as did a small space heater in the corner, but you can tell it had been running for some time, because the inside was already warm. Several beds were set up and made with thin, government-issued bedsheets, but it was far better than nothing.

You went about unpacking the bag as Eric moved to the small bathroom and shut the door. There was a change of clothes, sweatshirt and pants and underwear and socks, basic toiletries like a toothbrush and shampoo and a small bar of soap, two bottles of water, a plastic packaged MRE (you had Menu 3, “chicken, egg noodles, and vegetables in sauce”), and some things like Band-Aids and small packages of Advil like what you kept stocked in the ER, along with a sanitary napkin, and, the piece de resistance (courtesy of the American government, you’re very welcome), a condom. You frowned at the last thing and slid it into your toiletries bag underneath the bar of soap to hide it; to be frank, sex was the last thing you wanted or needed. Your brain was still in survival mode, and you didn’t even feel like you could settle down enough to sleep, let alone to fuck. Could anybody here?

You heard the shower squeak on in the bathroom, and the pipes creaked as water rushed through. You stripped off your clothes, exchanging them for the warmer and drier and less dirty option, and you sniffled as your fingers began to warm up, becoming less stiff but considerably more sweaty. The bed creaked under you as you sat down, the springs screaming at you, and you rubbed the paper-thin blanket between your fingers. It reminded you of the quality of the hospital, where you might as well be using copy paper instead of fabric. If you had known that your last night in your bed, with your memory foam pillow and weighted blanket, would truly be your last, you would have savored the experience far more. Would you even be warm enough under those blankets?

You couldn’t ponder it any longer, because Frodo suddenly caught a bee in his bonnet, and he skittered from atop the second bed, where Eric had settled his things before he went to the shower. He careened to the closed bathroom door, and he got up on his hind legs, pawing at the door handle. Wordlessly, he craned his tiny head to look at you, and he made the first cat noise you heard him make, a sort of “mrrow” chirping groan. As you got up and went to grab him (“Eric’s just taking a shower, Fro, he’ll be right back”), Frodo turned back to the door and began to bat at the handle, like he was attempting to turn it.

And then you remembered. Frodo was a service cat. He had been trained to alert for certain things, and Eric had mentioned rising pain levels, but what else could Frodo alert for? Suddenly, your heart jumped into your throat, and you knocked on the door. “Eric? You okay?” you asked, but you received no answer. “Eric? Hey, man, Frodo’s freaking out, are you alright in there?”

It was hard to hear too much over the sound of the running shower, but you heard the unmistakable shaking breath of a gasping sob, and, maybe against your better judgement, you turned the door handle. The door wasn’t locked, and the hinges squeaked as you opened the door. Eric had shed his blanket and cardigan and loosened his tie, but he was backed into the far corner of the bathroom, staring at the porcelain bathtub with eyes as big as dinner plates. The faucet was running, the tub filling up, but Eric was frozen. Quickly, you turned the tap and shut off the water, and you gave him his space as you asked “What’s wrong? Can you tell me what happened?”

Eric shook his head, his mouth contorting into an ugly sob, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Tears leaked out, and he just kept shaking his head over and over. “No, no,” he mumbled. “No!”

“Hey, easy,” you told him gently. “What’s going on? How can I help?”

“Th-The water,” Eric gasped. “I—I—” His knees gave out, and he slumped against the wall with a sob. He began to claw at his shirt, at the topmost button; even though it was undone, he still seemed to want it looser.

You rushed to his aid, pushing his hands aside and starting at his shirt buttons. His eyes were still shut tight, but you needed to see his pupils— if he was in shock, or if something else was happening, the dilation of his pupils could help tell you. “Eric,” you said softly. “Open your eyes, please. Please? I need to see your eyes.”

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and you saw his pupils so big and dark, they almost overtook the brown of his iris. His face was pale, his chest heaving as you undid his buttons, and you pressed your fingers to the side of his neck to check his pulse. Fast, hard, heavy. You had been by his side all night, he hadn’t taken any medication that he could be having a reaction to, and he had been eating the same crackers and water that you had. There weren’t many other conclusions to come to— a panic attack. But at what?

Eric sank down to the floor, sobbing and shaking, and you followed him, putting a gentle but controlling grip on his wrists. You didn’t think he would, but you needed to control him if he started to get violent. “Eric, take a breath,” you told him. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you, okay? Everything is alright.”

Eric sucked in a breath and doubled over on himself, and you kept your hands on his wrists as you shifted away— if he got sick, you didn’t want it on your clothes. Although, you were sure you could get different ones somehow. But he didn’t get sick, he just kept crying. You felt awful and tasted bitter in your mouth. Typically, at this point, you would be paging the mental health wing to come by and evaluate him, and you’d move on to the next person waiting in the ER. You didn’t know how to talk someone down from a panic attack. You didn’t even know how to do that for yourself, let alone for Eric.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Okay, it’s okay. What happened? Did something happen?”

Eric’s eyes glazed over you and settled behind your shoulder, and you looked back to see the bathtub. It was hardly half-full, but everything clicked into place. “The water,” you said. “You’re afraid of the water. Is that it?”

Eric sniffled and nodded weakly, and you blinked away tears. “That’s okay,” you whispered. “That’s totally okay. I mean, you had to jump into the water to get away from the monsters, I don’t blame you for being afraid—”

“I was down in the subway,” Eric blurted out. “When the monsters came. I was there, and I couldn’t stop thinking, I just kept thinking, and I… I didn’t have the guts to do it. I wanted to do it, I wanted to! But I was too scared that it would hurt. Was scared I’d looked too fucked up and they wouldn’t be able to tell who I was, and my-my mum, thinking about my mum being told, it would kill her, and I was just thinking… And the water came rushing in. Filled everything up, there was no air… I had to swim, and I can’t swim, I never learned really, but I was swimming and I just thought ‘I don’t actually want to die’. But I started feeling spotty, all lightheaded and fairy, and I think I was starting to drown, but I saw the light and came up…”

You were at a loss for words. If you were understanding him, he had been trying to kill himself before the monsters. It sounded like he was moments away from stepping in front of a train. His saving grace was the flood in the tunnels. You had trouble swallowing as your throat went thick, and you lowered your eyes for a minute before you loosened your grip on his wrists. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “You’re gonna be alright. Do you want to take a shower instead?”

Eric shook his head. “Doesn’t work,” he mumbled. “Only the tub does.”

You sighed heavily. “Do you want me to stay?” you asked. “Or I can wait outside the door?”

Eric seemed edging into a catatonic state, just shivering and blinking, and you frowned. You finished your abandoned job of undoing his shirt buttons, and you loosened his tie until it came off completely, and you gently pushed off his stained and ragged buttoned shirt. His undershirt wasn’t in much better shape, the underarms and neck stained with sweat, and you started to take it off, but paused. “Is this okay?” you asked. He didn’t react to your question, just staring at your neck, and you carefully angled his head up to look you in the face. “Eric. Is it okay if I undress you and put you in the bath? I’ll be right here the whole time, I won’t leave you alone.”

Eric weakly nodded, shifting his arms a little to better help you pull his undershirt over his head, and his hands went down to his pants to finish the job. You quickly considered what the next steps were as Eric fished his belt from his pants loops, and you pushed the sleeves of your sweatshirt up to your elbows to free up your hands. Eric, now only in his boxers, gave you a pathetic look, and you took him by the hand and helped him to his feet. You figured that he had forgone removing his boxers for a reason, so you didn’t push it, and you held him stable as he lifted a shaking foot over the edge of the bathtub. He was silent, but you watched tears run down his cheeks as he settled both feet in the water, his grip on your hand so tight that it almost hurt.

Slowly, he sat down in the tub, and the water splashed your hand. It was warm but not hot enough to hurt, and you sat by the edge of the bathtub, watching Eric as he sniffled. He certainly was dirty after two days in an apocalyptic city, and you were sure that you weren’t any better off, and you started to get up to retrieve the toiletry bag that he had brought in with him, settled by the sink, but his tight grip only became more vice-like as you tried to depart. “Don’t—” he choked out, and you shushed him gently.

“I’m not leaving,” you told him. “Just getting the shampoo and stuff, just by the sink.”

“Can you get in?” Eric asked softly, almost at a whisper. “When you come back?”

“I-In?” you repeated. “Like, in the bath?”

Eric nodded. He was watching you with his big, intense eyes, and a shiver ran down your back.

“Okay,” you told him. “Umm… I don’t know if I can. I don’t have any other clothes, and I can’t get these wet.”

“Please?” Eric whimpered. “Need… Just need help.”

Maybe it was because you felt bad for him, or maybe you were feeling something that you didn’t want to consider yet, but regardless of the reason, you nodded. You got up from the floor and retrieved the bag from the sink counter, and you came back to the tub. The sides of the tub were curved, not allowing for you to settle the stuff on the edge, and you quickly handed the shampoo and soap to him. He held them gingerly, and he averted his eyes down to the water as you put the bag down and started to pull off the sweatshirt. “Eric,” you said softly. “You can look. You’re gonna see everything in the next few minutes anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

Slowly, Eric raised his eyes up, but he still didn’t look staright at you. At least now it wasn’t obvious that he was avoiding looking at you like before, where it felt like he would be burned alive if he looked. You carefully pulled the sweatshirt over your head and set it by your feet, then you pulled down the sweatpants and stepped out of them. Your heart was beating quickly as you lowered yourself into the bathtub, sitting with your back to Eric, and he nudged his legs a little wider to allow you to sit comfortably. The water felt good on your aching muscles, especially your back, and you sighed lightly. You sat for a moment, trying to drum up enough courage to turn to him and start to help, but he beat you to it.

Eric’s hands were warm, his palm a little rough, as he touched your shoulder, sliding his hand down a little to reach your back. His fingers played with the ends of your hair, and he lowered his hand back to the water. He cupped his palm and let water flow in, then he brought it up to you and wet your hair. Was this his definition of help? To help himself, he had to help others? It made sense, but it still took you a little by surprise. You don’t think anybody had ever washed your hair for you, not since you were a kid. But this was different, in just about every way possible. It was intimate in a way that made your breath catch in your throat, and you swallowed thickly as Eric lifted a hand and tilted your head back to lightly pour water over the front of your hair. He was careful in his work, making sure not to get it on your face or in your ears, and you listened to his breathing even out as he diligently did his task.

The shampoo was some cheap, basic crap, didn’t smell like anything and was only good for getting the oil out of your hair, but the way that Eric worked it into your hair made it seem like it was made by the gods. You felt relaxed, the first time in a long time, and your eyes slipped close as his fingertips worked into your scalp. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that good, especially by someone else’s hands— maybe years, it was hard to say. You knew that, no matter how good it felt, you couldn’t sink too hard into the feeling of it. Eric just needed to help you, and this was his help; nothing more, nothing less.

He gently poured water from his palms over your hair, rinsing it out as best as possible, and you felt that hot streak shoot up your nose. You wanted to cry. You hadn’t cried in… You had no idea. It certainly had been a long time, and you frowned and gulped as you held down the tears. Unluckily for you (or maybe luckily; it was nice to know Eric was so attentive), he noticed your catched breathing, and his hands gently settled on your shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Are you?” you answered, almost a knee-jerk reaction. Don’t worry about yourself, worry about your patient, your friend, anybody else. You came last in your mind, everybody else was more important than you.

“That’s not what I asked you,” Eric said firmly. “Are you okay?”

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, that nothing was wrong. He didn’t need to worry about you, you were tough, you could handle yourself. You watched as water filtered through your own fingers, pooling in your palm but escaping out of every little break and crevice possible, and you pursed your lips as you slowly rubbed your face, trying to wash away to grime and dirt. You shook your head lightly, trying to come up with any words to express yourself, and you wiped off your cheeks as you sniffled. “I don’t know.” You couldn’t come up with any better explanation; you just didn’t know if you were okay or not. Your hands slid down your face and flattened up against your neck, and you sighed. “Are you okay?” you tried again.

“I’ll be okay,” Eric told you. His hands smoothed down your shoulders to your arms, and he squeezed your upper arm for a moment before he went for the soap, starting up a lather between his palms.

“Well, sure, we’ll all be okay eventually,” you replied. “But are you okay right now?”

Eric waited until he was washing your back to answer. His sudsy hands slipped over your skin easily, but he dug his fingertips into your muscles, offering relief. “I’ll be okay,” he repeated. “I don’t know what I am right now, to be honest. Head’s just full of… I don’t know. A whole lot of noise, but not any one thing. It’s all quiet out here, but in there, it’s just…” He sighed, and his hands halted at your sides. He obviously had been on track to move to your front, doing his job on autopilot, and he only thought about what he was doing as he was about to do it.

Silently, you shifted your weight back just a hint, closer to him, trying to tell him that it was alright without saying the words. He quickly caught on to what you were telling him, and his hands slid around your body to your front. To your relief, he avoided where you had expected his hands to go, instead wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hugging himself to you, setting his chin on your shoulder. “You make it quiet up there,” Eric whispered, barely above a breath, like he was afraid of saying it out loud. “I don’t know how, I don’t know why… But you start talking, and it’s like everything else fades away.”

That was your breaking point. Tears started to fall from your eyes, and you sniffled as your hands reached up to your neck and clutched his wrists, looking for anything tangible to hold on to while you cried. And cried you did, your face contorted as you sobbed, your shoulders shaking and chest heaving, and you squeezed Eric’s wrists. He was quick to move impossibly closer, molding his front to your back, and his arms slipped down to your middle, squeezing you tightly as he buried his face in your neck and began to cry as well. He was much quieter than you, not having nearly as much that he held back and needed to get rid of, but it felt good to have someone commiserate with you.

You weren’t sure who moved first— maybe there wasn’t a first to move, maybe you both moved at the same time— but somehow your foreheads came to touch, and your crying pettered down to a sniffle and watery eyes. Your hand came up to touch his cheek, scruffy with a few days’ old beard trying to grow in, and your thumb stroked his cheekbone. He keened into your touch, his eyes fluttering open to look at you. His big brown eyes, so full of every emotion, hidden just so but easy to see if you knew where to look, locked on yours, and your lips fell open in anticipation of his mouth on yours.

Instantly, though, you shifted away and lightly cleared your throat. This wasn’t the time for that. You didn’t know if there would ever be a time for that again. Quietly, you splashed water on your face, and stood up, carefully getting out of the bathtub and going after the towel that sat on the countertop. You scooped your clothes up off the floor as well, and you escaped from the bathroom without a word. You were sure he was confused, maybe even wounded, but you didn’t care. On some level, you did want that— you wanted to feel wanted, to feel adored, cared about, and Eric was a great guy for that, but you didn’t want just that. You wanted a life, you wanted a partner, you wanted love— not just some trauma-borne fuck that you forgot about as soon as it happened.

You dried your body and slipped into your full outfit, pants and sweatshirt and underwear and socks, and you sat on your bed as you dried your hair. You listened as, inside the bathroom, the water sloshed against the side of the tub while Eric moved around, and you watched as Frodo calmly stalked the perimeter of the room, seeming to check every nook and cranny. You put your damp towel to the side and tutted out at the cat, and Frodo looked up at you for a moment before he scampered over to you, hopping up onto the bed and settling himself in your lap. “You’re a good boy, Fro,” you whispered, stroking his back. “Such a good boy.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Eric’s voice floated to you, and you turned to him. He was now all clean as well, his hair soggy and his face free of grime, wearing the sweatpants and sweatshirt. His hair was pushed away from his face, and you could see, even in the dim light, freckles dotting his forehead.

You sighed. “No,” you replied. “I’m just… I don’t know.”

“Did you not want me to…?” Eric began.

“No, no, it’s not that,” you told him quickly. “Not that at all, I did want you to, I just… I don’t know if I can do all that.”

“All what?” Eric asked. “What did you think was going to happen if I kissed you?”

“Well,” you shrugged. “I don’t know, I assumed more would come of it. And I just don’t know if I’m ready for more. Even before the world came crashing down, I wasn’t ready for more. That’s why I didn’t have anyone; not because I didn’t have time, although that was true. I’m just… Scared.”

Eric quietly moved towards you, bypassing his bed and settling at the extreme edge of yours, as far away as possible while still occupying the same space. Frodo looked at him with thin eyes and he slowly blinked at Eric, and his tail flopped in an indignant half-wag. “Scared of what?” Eric asked.

You sighed. “That I won’t be right for anyone,” you said. “Even back when I was on the market, people always… I don’t know. Wanted more, and for whatever reason, I could never give more to them. I was always so afraid of what would happen when I finally gave all of myself to someone that I never did, and by the time I figured out that someone did want all of me, it was too late and I’d already lost them. I can never win— I’m always never enough or I’m too much. I’m never just right.”

Eric thought on your words for a few moments, and he moved closer to you, just an inch. “Yeah,” he said. “But that was back then. Everything has changed. Everything is different now. You don’t need to be afraid of being what’s right, because what used to be right is just… All sorts of fucked up now. Nobody knows anything anymore. I certainly don’t. But I know what I want, more than I ever have before.”

“And let me guess,” you said. “You want me?”

You hoped that calling him out on his cheesy cliché would have him back down. You liked that he wanted you, and you wanted him too, you wanted him so badly that it hurt, but you didn’t want him to mistake wanting you for wanting a connection with someone.

“I want to be okay again,” Eric told you. “But I need you.”

That was the most magical word of all. Need. It punched a hole in your heart and took your breath away, and you watched him as he watched you, just seeing who would dare to break first. Frodo seemed to know something you didn’t, because he jumped up out of your lap and skittered across the room with an uncharacteristic yowl, and you frowned as he sped away, but your frown was quickly wiped off your face as Eric bridged the gap and kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He held your face as his lips moulded to yours, a perfect fit as you kissed back, and you wound your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. It felt good to kiss someone, to hold someone and be held by someone. You forgot how much you missed the feeling of another person, and you melted into his body as he claimed your hips in his strong hands. His knuckles were scuffed up, but he held you so gently, and you easily fell back onto the bed. He followed you, settling over you like he had done it a thousand times before, but the way his hands slowly slid up the sides of your shirt to touch your bare skin showed you how much it meant to him. Slow and gentle and sweet, he was everything you had wanted from a partner and a lover for as long as you could remember.

But you could tell, even though he was being sweet, how badly he wanted to have you. His kiss was greedy, shifting away from your mouth to kiss your chin and jaw and neck, almost feral with his need for you, but you welcomed it. Strong emotions like that were flattering, especially here and now, and you didn’t waste much time before sliding your hand past the elastic waistband of the sweatpants nestled around his hips. Your palm found his cock instantly, and you held in your gasp of surprise at his size— he definitely had something to be proud of. His skin was warm through the layer of his underwear, and you paused and widened your eyes at him, a quiet question of how far he wanted you to go.

“You don’t have to be quiet anymore,” Eric whispered. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You shivered underneath him at the sweet name he had bestowed on you, and you quietly asked, “Do you want me to…?”

“God, yes,” he moaned. “Haven’t done this in so long…”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile as you slipped under his briefs, and your fingers wrapped around his thick length. His skin was hot to the touch, his cock rock-hard, and he moaned softly into your neck at the contact. Whether he meant to or not, his hips rolled forward, pushing himself further into your grip, and he quickly whispered, “M’sorry, fuck—”

“Don’t apologize,” you told him. Your free hand went to cradle his cheek, and you shifted his face so that you could kiss his plush lips again. “It’s hot.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eric asked. “It’s hot how…” He paused to kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip with his front teeth, and he continued. “How desperate I am?”

“I am too,” you told him. “I just hide it better.”

Almost as if he was checking if you were lying, his hand skated down from your side and into your pants, letting his fingers mold to your cunt, and he chuckled lightly. “God, you’re wet,” he smiled. “That makes me feel better.”

“Were you worried I wasn’t?” you asked.

“Just a little,” Eric whispered, wrinkling his nose. “But I figured you’d tell me if something wasn’t working for you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you told him. You chased him into another kiss, and his tongue invaded your mouth. It had been so long since you had someone make you feel like that, and you whined softly into his mouth. “Eric, please.”

“What do you want?” he asked. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

“Anything,” you whimpered. Your legs shifted, coming up to anchor around his waist, and you slowly started to stroke his cock, teasing his soft head, just to see his reaction.

Thankfully, his cheeks went red, and that pretty pink mouth of his opened in a moan, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he mumbled, “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m already too close for you to be doing that.”

“Already?” you asked. You sounded a little more surprised than you meant to, and you quickly added, “That’s really attractive, Eric, I hope you know that.”

“What is?” he chuckled. “That I’ve got a short fuse?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged sheepishly. “I think it is, anyway. How can I help you?”

“Umm,” Eric said, then swallowed thickly. “Can I… Tits?”

You smiled at him, and you laid a gentle kiss on his lips before he shifted away, letting you pull up your sweatshirt. Your little survival packs hadn’t provided you with a bra of any kind, and you watched Eric’s already-wide eyes flare out at the sight of your chest. He didn’t say a word before he moved down your body and started to kiss everywhere he could reach, taking time and care on your tits. Your hand fell out of his pants at the angle shift, and you settled your fingers to twist in his damp curls as his own hand replaced yours, jerking himself off as he gently licked at your hardening nipple.

“S’that okay?” he whispered, casting his doe eyes up at you, and you nodded quickly. “’Cause if it’s not, I can stop—”

“I promise it’s okay,” you whispered. “I swear.”

Eric smiled. “She swears,” he whispered under his breath, and you giggled. “She swears she likes when I suck her tits. Aren’t I a lucky guy?”

You could hardly ignore the hot pressure between your legs, and you snaked your hand in-between your bodies and started to push down your sweatpants, but Eric noticed what you were up to, and he tugged his hand out of his own pants to capture the waistband of your sweatpants in his grasp. “Please,” he said. “Allow me.” You could tell that he intended to be funny, but his flushed face and fucked-out pupils made it seem a lot more pathetic than you’re sure he meant to be, but that just made a rush of heat strike your core, and your head fell back in bliss as you felt your hot skin slowly exposed to the air.

When you lifted your head back up to look at him, you watched as he shed his own clothes, finally matching you, and you bit your lip as his heavy cock rose to lay against his tummy. He had the thinnest trail of hair coming from down his belly button, smatterings of hair on his chest, a nicely-groomed bush of hair at the base of his cock; he clearly cared about the way he looked, and you loved that. You wondered if the Eric you knew was anything like the Eric before the monsters came, and you watched as he leaned back and began to gently place kisses down the length of your body. He was soft and gentle with you, although you were nearly certain he wanted to take you then and there, and you wiggled a little under his lips. “Can we…” you started. “Do that later?”

“Do what?” Eric asked.

“The whole ‘sweet and kissy’ thing,” you said. “Not to sound, like, sex-starved or anything, but I am, and I think my heart’s gonna explode if you’re not inside me soon.”

Eric chuckled, obviously not expecting that level of honesty out of you, and he pushed his damp curls off of his forehead. “Whatever you’d like, sweetheart,” he told you. “As long as you promise to let me eat your cunt eventually. I can only go so long seeing you like this and be expected to not put my mouth on you.”

“Sure,” you replied, secretly excited that he was expecting a second time.

Eric swiped a quick kiss on your mouth, and then he furrowed his eyebrows. “Umm…” he began. “I— Do you… Are you on any birth control or anything?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “No,” you sighed. “I was, but all that’s back in my apartment in Brooklyn. Haven’t taken my pill since, like, three nights ago, so I’m basically fucked for the whole month.”

“Fuck,” Eric whispered, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “I guess, are you alright with this, then? We can figure something else out—”

“There’s, umm,” you winced. “A condom, in the bag with the shampoo and everything. There’s one in mine, and I bet there’s a second one in yours too.”

“Oh, shit, really?” Eric laughed. “That’s… That’s pretty funny.”

“Apparently, FEMA knows what people do in times of crisis,” you smiled.

“So, what I’m hearing,” Eric started, moving himself off the bed and going to your toiletries bag on the floor. His back turned to you, and you felt your eyes widen in shock at the state of his ass. Jesus Christ, this guy had a great ass, smooth and plump and perfectly rounded; you almost wanted to reach out and bite it. “Is that we can fuck twice, and then we’ll need to figure something else out.”

“Is that so?” you asked, and Eric came back to the bed, deftly tearing open the condom wrapper. You leaned up on your elbows to watch as he got back up on his knees, caging you between his thick thighs, and he made quick work of rolling the condom down his thick length, making a quiet grunt as he got it situated the way he wanted. “What makes you think there’ll be a third time? Or a second, for that matter?”

“Won’t there?” Eric asked. “You seem pretty into it right now. Or least your cunt is; look at how wet she is for me.”

“Well, yeah, now,” you teased him, biting the tip of your tongue, trying to will your thundering heart to go back to normal. “But what if, when everything is said and done, you’re actually a terrible fuck and I don’t want anything else to do with you?”

He laughed deep in his chest, and he took your thighs in his strong hands and opened your legs, smoothly settling himself so he could rub his hard cock against your weeping cunt. You felt blood thrumming under your skin, making every inch of you pulse and surge, and you whined high in your throat when the head of his cock caught at your hole, threatening to slip in with ease. “I doubt that, sweetheart,” he told you. “I’ve been told I’m a fantastic fuck.”

“Are you sure they weren’t trying to keep your ego intact?” you asked, and Eric tilted his head curiously at you.

“Well, they weren’t telling me much of anything,” he said. “Usually, by the end, they’re so fucked-out and brainless that they can hardly string a sentence together.”

Then, without a word of warning, he gripped your hips and slid himself inside of you, and you gasped. It had been so long that you had almost forgotten what sex felt like, but this was something entirely new and different. You could feel every ridge and vein on his cock, even through the condom, and he gave a delicious throb as you tightened your thighs around his hips. “Fuck!” you yelped, and a shade of worry passed over his face for just a moment. “I-I’m okay,” you told him quickly. “Just… Fuck, Eric, you’re so big.”

“You flatter me,” he chuckled. Slowly, he began to rock his hips into you, moving shallowly at first, just letting you get used to his size, and his dull fingernails buried into the flesh of your hip. You couldn’t help all the little noises he caused you to make— you could feel every inch of him, burying deep within you, stretching you and filling you like he was made for you, and he leaned down and ghosted against your lips with his. “Feel good?” he whispered, and you nodded quickly.

“Do I?” you asked softly. Your arms went around him, holding him close to you, and you pressed your fingers into his shoulders. He felt like a lifeline, his warm skin keeping you grounded, and you didn’t even care if you sounded pathetic or insecure. He made you feel good and safe, and that’s all that you cared about.

“Fuck, so good,” he grunted out. He was picking up speed, gaining a good rhythm that made you wonder how prolific he had been before his career got in the way, and you listened to the bed squeak under you as he mumbled, “So warm… So wet… You feel like a dream… Remember that short fuse I talked about?”

“Really?” you smiled. “Already?”

“Listen, woman,” Eric started, and you dragged him into a messy kiss. You loved him talking like that, and it made you realize just how close you were as well. He tugged away from the kiss to take a deep breath, and he went in to kiss you again, hungry and wanting you. He was going fast now, pumping in and out of you, leaving pleasure and sparks in his wake, and your legs twitched and tightened as the knot in your belly twisted closer and closer to its end. “I haven’t had sex in years,” Eric continued, finally tearing himself away from your lips. “And my right hand can only do so much after a while. So excuse me for being a little quick to the draw tonight.”

“How many years?” you asked.

Eric sighed. “I dunno,” he said. “At least since I graduated law school, so… Five years, maybe?”

“God,” you chuckled. “That’s… A while.”

“No, wait,” Eric said. “Three years. My birthday a few years ago, my mates took me out to a bar, and I met a girl, I spent the night at her place… And she never answered my texts after that.”

“Ouch,” you hissed. “That must’ve hurt that ego of yours.”

“Not gonna lie, it did,” Eric laughed. “But it’s for the best. I didn’t have time for a girlfriend anyway, I would’ve been an awful boyfriend to her. Or to anyone, not just her… What about you?”

“Umm…” you started. “Sex… Yes, I know what that is. Definitely a thing I’ve had before now.”

“Don’t play with me like that,” Eric started, jokingly wide-eyed and startled, and you laughed.

“About the same, I guess,” you said. “Three-ish years… It was back a few years ago, I was feeling bad about getting older and having a career but no partner, so I… I went on a dating app, found a guy, and we talked for a little bit and hooked up, but I got a bad vibe from him, so I broke it off.”

“I’m sorry,” Eric said. “Did you like him?”

“Not really,” you sighed. “And he wasn’t even that great in bed.”

“So, I’ve got him beat in every category, right?” Eric asked.

You kissed him again, cupping your hand across the back of his neck, and he smoothed his hands up your body lovingly. “You’ve got everyone beat, baby,” you told him.

“I think you’re an angel, actually,” Eric told you, and you shyly shook your head. “No, no, I think so. I don’t care if you don’t agree, that’s what I think.”

“Whatever you say,” you told him. “Can you, umm… Maybe a little faster?”

Eric obliged, pistoning his hips quicker to fuck you to your liking, and his hand floated to your pussy, his thumb gently rubbing at your throbbing little clit. You whined and scratched at his back, tightening your legs and digging your heel into that ass he had, and the electric shocks that ran up your toes and into the rest of your body started to become too good, too much. “Eric!” you gasped. “Eric, fuck!”

“I’ve got you, angel,” Eric whispered in your ear. “I’ve got you. Let me see that pretty face when you cum, yeah? Wanna feel your cunt squeeze me, fuck, I need it.”

You looked down at yourself, watching as his hard cock plunged in and out of your hole, leaving a creamy ring at the base of his cock, and your whining and whimpering almost had the wet squelch of your bodies together beat. Then, almost against your will, your whole body relaxed, every muscle feeling like it went slack, and you sobbed out your final moan, your head falling back as your nails went hard into his freckled shoulders. You felt your wet cover your inner thighs, and you panted as Eric chased his own end. You didn’t have to wait too long before you heard him choke back a moan, and he spilled himself inside the condom. You felt the warmth of his spend inside you, and he slowly pulled out of you with a hiss at the sensation on his sensitive, softening cock.

He was quick to take care of the condom, and he came back to the bed and settled in the small, empty space beside you. His red chest was heaving, his cheeks flooded with pink color, and he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you close to him. You melted into his warmth, mashing your cheek against his hard chest, and he let out a breathy laugh. “Fuck,” he gasped. “I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t eaten real food all day or what, but I’m exhausted.”

“Me too,” you giggled. “I think you were just that good.”

“Once again, angel,” Eric whispered, settling a soft kiss on your head. “You flatter me.”

You fell into a comfortable silence then, listening to each other’s breathing even out, and Eric cleared his throat after a while. “Typically, at this point,” he started. “I’d be smoking a cigarette.”

“Oh my God, Eric, no,” you groaned. “Don’t you know how unhealthy that is?”

“Oh, right,” Eric chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Miss Nurse. So concerned for my health.”

“Right,” you told him. “I care about you, and I don’t want you to have breathing complications or worse early in life from smoking.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Eric told you. “I think I need another shower after that, though.”

“You do sorta stink,” you giggled, and Eric rolled his eyes. “If you shower, I can be making food.”

“Food?” Eric asked. “There’s food?”

“Yeah, an MRE,” you told him, and you grunted as you got out of bed, going in search of the plastic-packaged meal. “Chicken and noodles. I didn’t see what yours was.”

“Fuck,” he laughed. “I’ve got a sexy woman making dinner for me? I might keep you around after all.”

“You have to keep me around,” you told him. “Who else is supposed to help you raise your cat?”

Frodo seemed to know his cue, because he revealed himself from behind a bookshelf, batting a bit of cobweb on his nose, and Eric smiled. “I suppose you’re right,” Eric said. “Just don’t feed him too much; he’ll get fat. He’ll also try to attack your hand if you pet his belly, so don’t do that either.”

“Noted,” you told him. “Go shower, handsome, this should be done by then.”

Eric took a moment to wrap his arms around you and press a kiss to your temple, and he softly said, “I wish we could have met any other way. But, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here now.”

“Me too,” you told him, turning in his arms to give him a real, genuine kiss. “I’m so glad you found me.”