Work Header

emotional jinx

Chapter Text

Once upon a time—  

You hoped.  

You dreamed of a white picket fence house alongside your loved one, your kids safe from the threat of demons. Back then, you were young and happy and you’ve never faced danger before—before your friend got mixed up in that 'end-of-the-world' type of plot. The world almost got destroyed: but the horror consisted of you losing your loved ones. It changed you completely. You became what you are today: a devil hunter wielding a gun and a sword. A family heirloom. You trained and survived, pairing up with your best friend—and hoped. 

Hoped that, one day, Nero would be yours.  

A silly wish, unfulfilled. Nero had his eyes set on another: on Kyrie, the beautiful songstress. You understood why Nero would be attracted to her. You couldn’t even be jealous after seeing her gentle nature—she was too kind for you to hate her. It wasn’t fair to her for you to hate her. She wasn’t at fault here; if Nero preferred her over you, his childhood friend, then so be it.  

Yet you couldn’t get rid of that nagging feeling. You continued loving him, unconditionally. Sometimes, you didn’t even want him: you were fine with just taking care of him from afar. Oftentimes, you wanted him to whisper sweet words in your ears while holding you tight in his arms—and kiss you like you mean the world to him. In moments of weakness, you craved for that affection, crying your heart out when you didn’t get what you wanted. It pained you to see him acting like a puppy around the songstress, but you put on a brave smile and acted as if nothing was wrong. Nero suspected nothing. He was still your friend you could joke around and be close with—until you could take it no longer and moved on.  

Well, more like the world was coming to an end, you lost everything and Nero finally expressed some real interest in Kyrie (or so it seemed). 
You had to get away. You did. But destiny brought you together when a new threat emerged to destroy your world.  

He was changed, you noticed.  

Luckily, you were also different. One thing never changed: your love for him, which rekindled the moment your eyes set on him.   

They say hope dies last.  You agreed.  

And you were a fool.  


The world was going to shit and here you two were: on top of Nico’s van, enjoying the sunset. The time for reminiscing was gone; you didn’t have much to catch up with. Except that yes—his Devil Trigger has been stolen by some unknown figure. You stared at his robot arm, but it’s not as if you were disgusted by it. You were just used to see him with his usual arm. It was what made Nero Nero. This new one felt unnatural.  

How many uses did it have?   

Brushing these thoughts away, you two spoke, like old times. Just—trivial stuff. Not in your opinion, though. You absorbed everything Nero said, every word, every gesture. His stories were compelling and cool: you just couldn’t wait to meet this Dante. Nero sounded like he admired the guy, in a way. Anyone the white-haired boy held in high regard was ok in your books. You watched him unfold his tale with a smile, but your heart was unsettled. A question kept popping inside your head, itching on your lips to get out.  

Are you and Kyrie…?  

Instead, you focus on another thing that was currently bothering you. “Hey, Nero—” You catch his attention since he was lost in his thoughts, staring in the distance. You knew this stubborn look, mouth set in a flat line, eyebrows furrowed over his beautiful blue optics. As if something was on his mind and he couldn't find a solution to it. What was he thinking about so profound? It made your heart skip a beat, filling in with immense affection.

After all this time, you didn’t forget about him at all—and he matured just fine. You were a fool for believing your feelings would go away.  

They’d only seem to get stronger with longing—the more you stayed away from that cheeky smile, the more he grew on you. You treasured each memory with him, the way his long hair danced around his face whenever there was a breeze, how he laughed, the many times he took care of you and saved you in oh so many ways—like a knight in shining armor. How he held your hand and how he easily told you he’d always protect you, as a friend (was that only your imagination? Maybe).  It hurt, but the good intention was there. For you, it didn’t matter.  

You’d hold onto that promise with obstinance—even if it’s the last thing you do.  

“Yeah?” he doesn’t turn his head to watch you. That worked in your favor since you didn’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye without your cheeks turning red. What you were about to do… 

You haven’t done this in a fucking long while. Being close to Nero felt foreign and you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries. One image kept repeating inside your head, though: he hugged the shit out of you when he recognized you, stroking your [h/c] hair and overall being glad to see you. You did your best not to cry, hugging him tight by the waist—you missed him, so so much.  But could you two still go back to what you were before? Two friends having each other’s backs? You forgot how to act casual around him. 

But you dare. You gently run your fingers through his now cropped hair, your soul aching. His long white hair was your favorite thing about him—it looked so fluffy and you used to ruffle it, much to his annoyance. Would he still let you do that? Play with his hair? You’ll have to find out; you had plenty of time. You are not going anywhere. You swore that to yourself. Staying away from Nero was punishment—and you realized that you belong by his side, whether he wants it or not. You’ll be his partner till the end.  

You used to work well together.  

Back to the topic at hand, though. Your thoughts were running astray.   

“I like you better with your hair longer,” you said, bold. It wasn’t the moment to cut corners.  

Nero lets out a tired chuckle. He closes his eyes in contempt for a few seconds, enjoying the silence and the way your fingers ran through his short hair. It felt familiar and normal—it made him think of home. Back to those better days when everything was not as fucked up as it was now.  

The young demon hunter answers without thinking, “Kyrie told me it gets in the way.”  

Your heart seizes up, at a loss of words. Your mouth felt dry as you swallow the large lump of uneasiness that formed in your throat. There it was:  Kyrie.  So, she was still present in his life. Of course—why did you believe otherwise? He was in cahoots with her since forever; and she showed him the same love. You deleted that scene from your head, but here it was again now: how you watched them embrace and you stayed there, heartbroken. You knew you had to leave then. You had no place in Nero’s heart—not in the way you wanted.  

You had to say something. The pain numbed your whole body and you couldn’t move; but you had to force the words out: “Are you still together with Kyrie, Nero?”  

It felt suffocating, but you pushed through your disappointment and all of the negative feelings (despair) that surged forward and put on a teasing smile. Years of practice—and you got good with hiding your emotions in front of Nero.  

“Yeah, we’ve in moved together. And she bakes the best apple pies,” he goes on. “Kyrie’s just— perfect.”  

“Aww,” you hate the way your voice breaks. But you can’t act selfishly right now, not when Nero is sporting the most beautiful smile he ever had. The boy was in love and you had to accept that, once and for all. Even if it ached, you had to get over it. “I’m glad you’re happy, Nero. Really. You two make—”  say it, say it, say it  “—a cute couple, I’m sure.”  

Nero shrugs, “Maybe. I don’t care much about what other folks say. I just know that I—” he stops before he can utter the word ‘love’. For what reason—you don’t know. But a shadow passes over his expression, darkening it into some unknown feeling. You want to ask him what’s wrong: was it something about Kyrie that displeased him? You doubted that. Just like he said, Kyrie was a warm loaf of bread spreading kindness all around. You couldn’t believe she was making him unhappy. So you help him cross over this moment, like the good friend that you were.  

“You love her, huh?” As much as it hurt you to say it, there it was. Still—it didn’t seem to cheer him up. “Where’s all that 'Girls Are Stupid’  attitude gone to?”  

He laughs alongside you, but the good disposition quickly vanishes.  

“I’ve changed.”  

You sigh and, in a moment of weakness, you rest your cheek onto his back, cuddling to his body. “We’ve all changed,” you add. You don’t embrace him; you just sit there and lament. Him and Kyrie. Your missed opportunities. What you could’ve been, what you’re not.  You feel the sting of the tears in your eyes and you let a few go before you recompose yourself—and bite your lips till it hurt to stop them from falling. But your body is trembling and he notices immediately: 

“You cold?”  

You shake your head, “Just stay like this, ok?”  


You close your eyes in an attempt to control your feelings. But, while being like this, your other senses awaken. Nero’s musky fragrance was as intoxicating as ever. It invaded your nostrils and blinded your perception, reminding you when you two had to share a small couch; that was your try for a sleepover. You were still young—kids just reaching the stage of maturity. It was the perfect time to explore each other, to try new things, to find out what kissing meant. As you two stared at one another, embraced, trying to keep your bodies warm, you felt overwhelmed with emotions. His breath mingled with yours in pure innocent ecstasy, his blue eyes darting toward your lips more often than not. A single move from you and you would’ve changed everything. He wouldn’t have said ‘No’—yet something held you away.  

Even if, sometimes, a tiny hope flared inside of you that maybe— just maybe— he also sympathized you. The gazing, the smiles, the friendly arm punches made you believe he was interested in you: a tiny crush ready to evolve into something more.  

But Nero wasn’t ready for this step either. 

Was either of you willing to fuck up your friendship for the unknown? For fleeting and childish feelings that would probably disappear after they’ve crossed the initial curiosity threshold. Neither could do it; they valued their relationship more than this. So they’ve only resorted to breathing each other in, to imagine what it would feel like to match their lips together, and simply stare.    

Nero was the first to fill in the silence that night, asking you, “You won’t leave me, won’t you, [name]?”  

You smiled brightly, telling him wholeheartedly that you won’t. “Not now, not ever.” He believed you—but you forgot about it. You didn’t even think of what you were leaving behind when you left him that day. You just wanted to go clear your mind; Nero didn’t question it, simply let you go away. Honestly, you expected him to come after you, to stop you, to beg you. He did neither. You just disappeared and he had no idea where you’ve went. He never searched for you. Just waited for you to come back—did he ever think about you?   

It didn’t matter. You were here now—and he was more than happy. 

Once upon a time—  

You were young and you had a chance. And sadly, lost it. Back to the present, reality sank in. Nero was together with Kyrie—and that was fine. You shouldn’t question it: it was just your imagination fooling around when you thought he looked sad.  

‘Get to terms with it, [name].’   

Instead, you had to really  tell him one thing: “I missed you, Nero.”  

His body tenses, then relaxes. There’s anger in his voice when he asks you, “Where you’ve been all this time, then?”  

You can’t tell him the truth, so you lie the best way you could. “I had to get out for a while. I thought you’d understand that.”  

“You didn’t tell me. You just left.” You want to flinch away from his harsh words, but you don’t have the energy. You should’ve seen this coming. “I was worried about you! I thought they—” he chokes, almost with grief. “—I thought the demons got you.”  

“I’m here now, Nero, that’s all that matters.”  

Nero’s body shifts as he turns to face you, blue eyes burning with anger and hurt and longing. “You think that this will fix it all?” 

“I’m sorry. Please—” you pleaded him with your eyes and you could see him crumble. His natural stubbornness never lasted long when it came to you. Most of the time, you felt guilty for using it against him; but now was not the time to fight over this. It would probably never be. Your feelings for him were a secret never to be spilled, lest you ruin everything. “Please forgive me, Nero. I never meant to—to hurt you, honest.”  

Your remorseful tone melts his final layer of defense. He grabs your shoulders, torn between smacking some sense into you and embracing you.  

“You’re lucky I missed you too,” he whispers, a softness in his look that he rarely showed. Instantly, you felt your cheeks redden—and was it the sun or did his cheeks darkened too? You shake those thoughts away: that was impossible.  He’s with Kyrie, like always. Nothing changed in this love triangle. You’re the fool who’s after a bigger oblivious fool who was in love with a cinnamon roll.  

You felt like weeping your fate, but before you could cave in, you hear unknown voices in the distance. You both turn toward the source, Nero removing his hands from you quickly. You notice their absence, but say nothing. You understand why he wouldn’t want for people to see you two together; someone might get the wrong idea and tell on him to Kyrie. You didn’t want that kind of trouble. You weren’t here to meddle or collect him as yours. Nero had a free will and Kyrie was his choice. You were here to rekindle an old friendship and be helpful for once. Your training has bear fruit and you were more than glad to show Nero what you know.  

To thwart your negative thoughts away, you examine the newcomers. Two ladies and one white-haired man. They looked tough and that man—he sent a shiver down your spine. He caught your gaze and it felt electrifying. He had a power in him that was magnetic, dragging you into something you weren’t sure you wanted to be a part of. When he saw your curious (and rather intrigued) look, he smirked bashfully. You immediately flush, embarrassed, as if this was your fault. You looked away, focusing on Nero: you’re surprised to see that he was watching you with interest and— 

No. It was nothing.  

You smile at him (reassuringly, you hope), and he stands up as a response (not after giving you a rather dirty look). You pout: he had to forgive you. You were here now and you didn’t plan on leaving him again. You’re here to stay—if you had to emphasize that to him or prove it, you’ll gladly do it.  

Until then— 

Nero offers you a helping hand so you can follow his lead. When you’re on your feet, he lets go of your hand as if it was filthy. You wipe your palm on your clothes, feeling self-conscious. Were you really that disgusting?  Once again, you ignore the pit in your stomach and put on another teasing smile. This time, it’s contagious and he’s smiling right back at you: he’s honestly missed you and he had no reason to hide it.  

“Are you still my partner?” Nero can’t help but ask and your eyes widen, sparkling with excitement. 

“If you’ll have me,” you grin, more than happy to serve him.  

“Cool,” he says back, acting nonchalant when he didn’t feel calm at all. He gestured to the trio—and you couldn’t help but feel excited about what was to come. Your eyes linger—again—on that tall man, who was watching you with interest. You shudder. Clearly, he could make a good first impression. The question was: will he live up to the expectations?  

 “C’mon, let me introduce you to Dante.”  

Chapter Text

“[name], pass me the sunscreen, please?” Nico, the one you got the closest to, says, extending her hand. Today was beach day—Dante (go figure) proposed that you relaxed for the day after weeks of fighting demons. It got tiring and everyone was cranky and on edge. Before an internal personality battle could ensue, this idea popped into Dante’s head. So here you guys were: the end of the world forgotten, your group just trying to enjoy a good sunny day.

“You’re so lazy, Nico, it’s right next to you.” You roll your eyes at her antics, a playful smile on your face. You still pass her the recipient after seeing her pouting.

“Thank youuuuu!” she sings in her thick accent, applying the cream on her arms.

A short laugh erupts from your lips, then you resume relaxing, putting your sunglasses back on your nose. It was the perfect cover that let you admire Nero from afar without looking like a stalker (even if it kinda was a pervert move). You weren’t doing anything bad: beautiful things were meant to be worshiped. And your childhood friend surely had a body that was intended to be praised. Six pack abs, nice muscles on his thighs and arms—a wonderful well-built back. Not to mention that sweet ass of his. All were waiting for you to drool over.


Except that, he wasn’t yours. Kyrie was here. Just now, she was running toward him in her cute and simple costume that made every male turn their heads. She had a certain innocent charm and you could see her appeal. Nero was one lucky man. Meanwhile, you felt like you were trying too hard, with your over-the-top and revealing swimsuit. It left little to the imagination, unlike the other girls’ outfit. You thought you were over Nero, your feelings subsiding, especially after seeing him around his girlfriend. Seems like your mind still wanted to believe—to be admired by him. You pretended like you didn’t care, though; so you were unsure if it really had any effect. It didn’t work on Nero, but Dante was certainly interested. The older man made a perverted comment about your costume, which you ignored with a polite laugh. Dante’s presence…Well, you could say that he was rather attractive and his comments made you flush with confidence. Everyone liked to be complimented from time to time, and you were no different.

At least Dante noticed your efforts.

“Stop starin’ at Nero, that’s gross,” Nico scrunches her nose in mock disgust.

You blush a deep red, protesting, “No, I’m not!”

“He has a girlfriend. Hands off.”

“I’m his friend, Nico,” you roll your eyes. “Childhood friend, in fact. I know everything about Nero!” You weren’t going to admit that you’ve been indeed stalking him. No one needed to know about your crush. And, knowing Nico, she might spill it out to the wrong people.

“You were an item, then? Before?”

The mere thought of you and Nero being a couple opened up a badly stitched wound. You bristled, going defensive, “No—we’ve never…ahem, it wasn’t like that, honest.”

“Mmmhhhmmm,” Nico wasn’t convinced. “Tell that to someone who buys your bullshit.”

You frowned, pissed. “What makes you think that, then?”

“I’ve seen the way you two ogle at each other. Can’t lie to me!” The dark-haired female seemed very proud of herself for finding something out that wasn’t true. You just wanted to swat that victorious smirk off Nico’s face. She went on, “I don’t know what Kyrie is going to say about that when I tell—”

“Don’t you dare!” you snap, jumping on your feet with cat-like agility. Your nostrils flare with despair, glaring daggers at the smiling female. “Seriously, Nico,” you lowered your voice as to not attract attention, “there’s nothing going on between us.” You spread your arms, helpless. “Don’t tell—”

“Bla bla bla bla,” Nico mocks you, sticking out her tongue playfully. But you weren’t amused. “I’ll just go right now—”

“Nico!” you grab her shoulders, shaking her with vigor. When you saw her befuddled expression, you stopped, calming yourself down. You weren’t helping your situation by acting all crazy about it; don’t show anything was wrong and no one will care. “Kyrie already knows the truth. She’s been with us since forever and she knows we’ve never done things like this. So…”

“You could’ve hidden from her,” the woman continues on teasing you.

“Nico…” This was getting tiring.

“Alright, alright.” She conceded and you removed your hands with a sigh.




Like a leopard, she leaped to her feet, pushed you out of her way, and darted toward the couple (who were minding their own business and acting all cutesy with each other). “NICO!” This time, you didn’t hide your anger; she had no right to meddle in your affairs, even if you considered her a friend. You started running after her at an impossible speed, the likes of which you were never capable of even when fighting demons. But you had to stop her—you might play it off as a stupid joke (since no one took the female seriously), but Nico wouldn’t let you live it down. “NICO! COME BACK!”


Before she could say something incriminating, the air goes out of her as you tackle her to the ground. Nico falls faceplanting in the sand, with you on top. You struggle to keep her there while smiling as innocently as possible at your childhood friend (and his consort). “Hi, Nero! Don’t listen to what Nico—”

“Pfaaaaaaa!” Nico groans, lifting her head and spitting out sand. With fierce determination, she squirms underneath you until you lose your balance. She was very violent and her outburst took you by surprise. She manages to topple you, triumphant—but instead, you grab her in a grip-lock by the arms, wrestling her into submission. But she was a wild stallion, and her mouth couldn’t shut up. “DID YOU KNOW [NAAAAME] AHAHA, that tickles!”

Nero, sighing in frustration, runs a hand over his face, while Kyrie kindly giggles by his side.

“Will you two quit it before someone gets hurt?” he says, looking done.

“Get’er off me!” Nico shouts, extending a hand toward her partner. At the same time, you were pleading him not to listen with your eyes. Nero doesn’t look that convinced, but his curiosity gets the better of him. “Nero, please!” Nico continued to plead.

“Just—Let her tell me. It can’t be that bad.” He shot you an apologetic look when he saw your venomously betrayed one. “C’mon, [name]. You said to not believe her, anyway. I believe you.”

Damn your easily excited heart and his kind words. You grimace. 

“Ha ha, I win!” She immediately regrets it when she looked into your eyes and sees a death threat in them. She gulped, whimpering. “Um...”

Tell him and you die (metaphorically).

“She—She, uhh, l-l-likes…” Nero cocks his head to the side, crossing his arms over his chest: but curiosity was written all over his face. [name]’s grip on Nico tightened just a little bit. “SHELIKESDANTE!”



“Oh my…”

“Say that again? Didn’t hear ya well, Nico.”

Nero was really curious about this; did he hear correctly? You like Dante? As in like-like? He hates the feeling that was stirring in him, a strange kind of jealousy in his chest. Meanwhile, you let go of Nico, face drained of color—yet darkening a dangerous shade of black. She was so dead.

“She—She—She uhh, likessss…ummmm…” Nico couldn’t continue, fearing her incoming demise.

But Kyrie heard her very well, “Dante? You like Dante?” The redhead chuckled amused yet extremely innocently. The prospect of romance entertained her and, honestly, you couldn’t be upset at her for spilling it out. You sighed, judging by Nero’s expression that he believed it completely and that you were fucked. Great—if Dante finds out this lie, he’ll make fun of you until your mind explodes.

You sigh, getting off Nico. The girl scrambles to her feet, stepping away from you, hands in the air, afraid. You let her off, dejected, shooting Nero a hurt look, “You said you won’t believe it…”

“I—I don’t!” he says, defensive. He did—you knew better.

“I don’t like Dante,” you say anyway. “Nico’s just joking.” You sound sadder than you wanted, more disappointed that Nero didn’t get jealous or something. But what the fuck did you expect? Kyrie was standing right next to him—did you really think he was going to betray some imaginary feelings while she was around? Silly [name]. Of course he wasn’t going to, even if he was rather transparent when it came to his feelings. You could read his emotions like a book; or used to, anyway. It’s been a while, no? Things have changed. It wasn’t as if he was going to be as easy to understand as before. You could see the loving way he gazed at the redhead; there was no place for you in his heart. You knew that.

You still hoped, though.

“Ok, ok,” Nero attempts a teasing smirk, grabbing Kyrie’s hand for comfort. A movement that doesn’t escape your eye. You try not to be disappointed. “Well, you’re in for a challenge. I’ve never seen Dante with a lady—and I’m not referring to Lady.”

Kyrie flashed him a confused look, “Didn’t you use to accompany him to strip clubs when—”


You laughed dryly, “Busted, Nero. I know Dante’s a skank anyway,” you rolled your eyes. “Now—” you cracked your knuckles, “—excuse me, I’ve got something to take care of.”

You turned, bellowing, “NICO!”

The girl in question yelped. She tried to run away from you while you weren’t paying attention, but she wasn’t fast enough and you weren’t going to leave her live with her mistake. “GET READY, NICO!” With that threat, you started running toward her, using your fiercest battle cry to scare her off. It had the effect you intended and, with a squeal, Nico dashed away from you while all laughed.

The game was on.


After you dunked Nico into the sea a couple of times to make sure she got the message (never fuck with you again), you got tired. With a sigh, you tried to pay attention to the melting ice-cream in your hand, but you didn’t have an appetite. All of the joy disappeared when Nico opened her big mouth and lied. You could play it off as nothing, as if the girl had nothing better to do than make fun of you. But they would be suspicious now and would never look at you and Dante the same way. They’ll really think...

You sigh once again, taking a tentative lick at the sweet.

“Never knew ice-cream could make someone sad, but there’s a first time for everything.”

Of course: Dante.

The man of the hour coming at the right moment, as usual. He had no care in the world, lazily smirking in your direction as he leans on the table you were sitting at. You tried not to hold a grudge against him since he wasn’t at fault here. He was a ‘victim’, if you could ever call Dante innocent. He was far from a saint, a devil in disguise tempting you on the path of sin. If you were weak-willed, you probably would’ve fallen for him, for his sweet words. He talked as if he was always trying to charm the pants off of you (which he probably did), except when talking to Lady and Trish. They were old friends, you thought; or, at least, so it seemed. You weren’t aware of any past romance involvement between them.

But you’ve only been with them for a few weeks. You wouldn’t know.

“Hey, Dante,” you eyed him up and down, sort of liking what you saw. “Where’ve you been?” He has been missing the whole ‘party’, even if he has been the one to suggest it. Still, he was a sight, on par with Nero. You might even say they are related. Only a coincidence. Anyway, he was distracting in all the good ways, muscles and curves. He noticed you staring and his smirk grew larger, flexing his arms so you can get a better view. You laughed at that—he was ridiculously cute.

“Ya know, around.” You shot him a suspicious glance. Dante raised his arms in surrender, as if he had nothing up his sleeve, but you didn’t believe him one bit.

“What are you up to?”

Dante feigned hurt, but he was sneaky either way, “Nothing. What gave you that idea?”

“I hope you don’t plan on throwing water balloons at people again,” you roll your eyes, laughing at the ridiculousness of this suggestion. But Dante’s rather guilty and mischievous expression told you that he was gonna do just that. “Dante, NO.”

“Come oooooooon,” he whined, leaning over to you with his puppy eyes.

“I don’t think the girls would appreciate you throwing water balloons at them.”

“What if it’s balloons—with color?”

You sigh in frustration. “Dante, please—”

“You can’t stop me—”

“—you’ll get in trouble—”

“—so you just have to join me.”

“I won’t! Why did you tell me?”

“Cause I want you as—”

“—as your scapegoat—”

“—partner in crime. I want you as my partner.”

The use of that word, regardless of the context, reminded you of your problems. You shouldn’t be seen with Dante alone—who knows what people might think? There was no way you would help him pranks the guys; they’ll get revenge as soon as possible. If Dante wanted trouble, then he was welcome to do it to himself. Besides, you haven’t got beef with anyone except—


She hasn't been punished enough.

Dante saw the fleeting smirk on your face and knew he got you hooked. Damn him for actually knowing how to pull your strings to get to agree.

“Dante, no, only Ni—”

But your words got lost when the ground started to shake. Both of you looked at one another, alert all of a sudden: this was not a normal earthquake. They knew better and it meant one thing.

A demon.

“Seems like we have to postpone your revenge for another time, birdie,” Dante says, putting his game-face on. You cringed at the pet-name he usually gave you (and many others, he just liked to alternate between them and come up with new ones every week)—they were uncalled for, even if no one ever called you that. No one really showed you excessive affection; not even Nero dared to call you in some way. Which only dampened your spirits—but you pushed the feeling away. This was not the time. “Here comes trouble.”

A deep rumble came from the sea and you both turned around to look at the source. At first, there was nothing. But with a terrifying groan (which left you two unimpressed, judging by the shit you’ve seen during your life), a figure—tall, menacing—started emerging from the waves. It kept on growing, reaching skyscraper height. Dante whistled in admiration, while you frowned at the people around you: they were gaping like fish at the incoming threat instead of running away. Who stops to look at whatever monstrosity will come out of the waters? You would believe they’d know better.

Anyway, the waters finally recede from the corpse of the demon and you get a good look at it. It had dark skin, the body was slender, skeletal: you could see the skin flapping in the wind around his ribs. Disgusting—but you were used to all the things that would’ve made anyone barf. Two red eyes, sunken into the skull, stared into nothingness, full of evil. You would’ve shuddered; but those long arms and sharpened claws didn’t scare you. Not anymore. The demon had no mouth, which made it uglier and horrific than anything. Many people started screaming and they grabbed their kids and started running—finally.

“That’s one ugly motherfucker,” Dante comments, then smirks at you. “Where’s your gear?”

“In the van,” you point at it, a few meters away. Great—you had to run to get there. But that was no problem. “You?”

“Uhh, I left my coat somewhere—” he scans around and sees it in Trish’s hands, who was dangling it over tentatively. She was very sassy, hand on her hip, a raised eyebrow; Dante smirked in return and, for the first time, you wondered if there was something going on between them. You wouldn’t have minded, not one bit—it will just save you from the rumors probably running behind your back. “Well, there’s my ride.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“Trish is always your savior, huh?”

“Why, you jealous?” He likes teasing you—like usual.

Before you could respond (and, fuck, are you blushing?), the demon decides you ignored it enough. He bellows out a cry, one that creates a big wave of air, throwing everything in its path away. ‘There goes my brand-new towel’ you sigh, dejectedly. You just bought it with the little money you had—so it was a shame. You stand your ground though, shielding your eyes from the sand with your hand (while Dante stands in his chair, as if nothing could move him). You roll your eyes at his bravado, watching things fly by you and trying to dodge things that were getting too near you. No sweat; you just had to wait until the monster finished so you can start kicking ass then take names. It took a few seconds to notice that something sticky and cold was running down your fingers and hand (and probably has been since Dante came into the picture). You looked down at your empty cone and yell in distress:  

“Aw, fuck, my ice-cream!”

You were extremely disappointed; this was probably the only thing that you were excited about today (that, and Nero). It would’ve cheered you up, but you completely forgot about it, lost in your thoughts about your lover boy. Then there was Dante—you shot him a foul look, as if it was his fault you weren’t paying attention. He shrugs, showing off a rare honest smile, “I’ll but you another one as an apology, ok?” To prove his point, he ruffles your hair.

You sigh, but you’re pleased with his answer. You’ll hold onto his promise. “Yeah, kay, whatever.” You snatch a nearby towel that was flying around just then and wipe your hand. Lucky you. “I think we have a demon to destroy, huh?”

“I guess so,” Dante cracks his knuckles. “Ready?”

“Born that way, baby,” you respond, grinning widely.

“I like that.”

In unison, you two start to move, dashing with a start and trying to fight off the current to get back to the van. It’s not that easy but not as hard; obviously, Dante is doing way better than you. What a badass—you envied him for his demon blood and his not-giving-a-fuck attitude. That was one quality (and only quality) you admired in Dante. Maybe his hotness too—but ehh, Nero toppled him. And why the hell were you thinking of Nero again? Probably because you were worried. As you were running, your eyes kept on searching for the white-haired boy, but he was nowhere to be seen. Hopefully, he was fine.

You didn’t have time to think about that anymore since you finally arrived at the van. You open the door going inside and grabbing your gear, while Dante disappears from your side, reaching Trish to take his coat and whatever he had stashed there. You took your favorite weapon, the guns, the slick katana, holstering them to the belt at your waist. You had no time to change from your bikini, but you had no problem with that. Fewer stains to clean afterward. Demon hunting was a messy job. Besides, you’d probably get rid of this costume after all this. When you were ready and prepped, you got out, jumping on top of the van to survey the situation. The demon decided to stop trying to blow you all away, and was watching something in the distance, toward the city, an unknown point of interest. Uh-oh—seems like he had other plans. But your gang is going to stop it right here, right now.

You were about to say something, when something incredible happened: the monster vanished. You blinked, confused as to where it disappeared, when you heard a hissing sound behind you. Turning, the demon was rapidly making its way toward the city, undisturbed by you guys. Incredible! What a rude demon, not even acknowledging you. Oh well—seems like it wanted you to give chase. And that’s what you were going to do. You spot your handsome boy and call out his name:


“I’ll get Kyrie to safety,” he is not even listening to you, though. He’s holding the red-head by the waist, close to him. Kyrie clings to him, scared. Your heart sinks. He wants to go alone? He really could use a hand with this, he can’t— “[name], go with Dante.” Nero looks at you, awaiting your approval. You can’t believe it; he really was blowing you off to…to…He’s secretly eyeing Dante and you know what this is about. You wanted to yell at him to fuck off, that it was not true: but you keep quiet, not hiding the hurt in your eyes. It shames Nero, but he’s obstinate and looks away, mouth set in a straight line. “You guys can handle it, no?” he is paying more attention to Dante than you.

“No problem.” Dante nods. “You protect your lady.”

Ugh. You jump next to Dante, ignoring Nero, who picked Kyrie bridal style and started running away. You humphed: that was really uncalled for. But you had a job to do. And you were going to do it efficiently and clean like always.

You look at Dante—he was ready.


The demon got inside the city before you two reached him, despite riding Dante’s motorcycle. But you were there now, right behind it, and you got down off of it, somewhat missing the demon hunter’s scent. He insisted on this ride (you weren’t going to say ‘no’ in favor of running), saying that it was faster. ‘And that looks like an urgent business.’ You agreed and held onto Dante tight, racing the van holding Trish, Nico, and Lady.

“Look!” you point out at the demon, at the big red swollen spot on the nape of its neck. It shouted ‘weakness’ in bright lights.

Dante hums, takes his gun out and fires, on point. It doesn’t do much damage, but it certainly hurts the demon. Like a mosquito bite. Not wanting to be topped, you charge your gun and fire at the same spot. You like impressing people with your skills, and Dante whistles in response. However, your bullet attracted the demon’s attention. It hurt him. He lets out a groan, in pain, puts a hand over the blob, and slowly turns around. Those deep ruby eyes (more like holes) stop on the two of you, hatred and malice. It seemed to say ‘Don’t get in my way’, but of course you were going to get in the way.

“That certainly got his attention,” Dante laughs.

You shrugged, “Wasn’t that the point?”

“I like that you’re direct.” He winks.

“Think we can take it down before the others arrive?”

“Definitely,” he turns to you. “Can you keep up with me?”

“Puh-lease,” you roll your eyes.

The white-haired demon hunter doesn’t answer; instead, he takes out Rebellion. Likewise, you unsheathe your katana, taking a stance. You were both ready and, with a fleeting gaze at one another, you acquiesce to what you need to do. No words pass between you—it was like with Nero. You didn’t need to say anything, just think the same way. It was something you two had—that connection was special, you didn’t want anyone to intrude. Especially not Dante. But Nero fucked you over and screw it! You were disappointed Nero wasn’t here to see how the two of you were interacting (little did you know). Nero shouldn’t complain—and you had half in mind to let him be alone from now on. He clearly needed no partner. But hey, this was just your current bitterness talking. Nero would do something to win your affection again. It was weird, though: it looked like Nero was jealous.

No way.

So, after agreeing to (hopefully) the same thing, the demon starts attacking, thinking that you were easy targets. He uses one clawed hand to attack you, swooping down to swat you like a bug. It’s slow and you dodge to the side easily. It tries again with the other hand: still the same result, jumping off its arm and twirling. You don’t anticipate the demon shooting lasers out of its eyes, though. It almost zaps you, but you’re picked up from the air and into some strong arms. Dante saves you from harm and you pout, not liking the position you’re in. But what can you do? Getting killed? You wouldn’t forgive yourself for this mistake.


“Never took you for the damsel in distress,” Dante chuckles, dodging red lasers with ease. However, buildings and roads started exploding behind you. It was mayhem, loud sounds all over, deafening, but you didn’t even flinch as rubble flew around you, almost scraping your cheek, dust getting into your eyes. Ugh, you fucking hated this part of the fight. Why couldn’t demons be clean and nice and not make a mess out of things?

Finally, the laser runs out of steam, and Dante finds a place to stop, on a rooftop. He puts you down, but not before running his hand on your hips, cheekily. You squeak and glare at him, while he smiles cutely.

“Stop that,” you threaten, but you’re more bark than bite. Being appreciated by a man by his caliber wasn’t something that bad. “We need to focus.”

Dante raises his palms in surrender, “Hey, your outfit is really distracting.” The white-haired demon hunter winked, leaning closer to you, “Who are you trying to impress, huh? Is it me?” His tone of voice is alluring and you’re tempted to just tiptoe and kiss him. What would those velvet lips of his taste like?

You’ve always wondered that Nero’s would…

“I—” you want to say ‘no’, to deny it. Isn’t it time to move on from Nero? He’ll always be with Kyrie—those were your insecurities talking. You can’t forget Nero and so what if you’re a hopeless romantic at heart that can get no romance? Your luck will come; you’ll just have to hold on a bit more. Maybe Dante will be the one—for now, you put on a rather flirty, dare you say, smile, batting your eyelashes at him. “No—but I appreciate admirers.”

Dante likes that, judging by the spark in his eyes. He leans even more and you can smell his minty breath on your lips and there’s nothing stopping you from reaching out. You just need a push and he can be all yours, right here, right now. But there’s hesitation in you and he can sense that. You see the same hesitation in him, like he’s not ready—no, like he never considered this prospect in the first place. He was only flirting for fun, not because—the realization blows your mind and you’re relieved. But he goes on anyway, asking you:

Hmm, then who has your heart, darling?”

You don’t get to answer—and you don’t want to. Telling Dante about Nero would be a huge mistake. Luckily (or not so), the demon starts attacking you two again, as if reminding you to pay attention to him (Hello, we’re fighting here?). This time, you go on separate ways, but there was no way you’re going to dilly-dally again. Honestly, you’ve wasted enough time. So, with a meaningful look at Dante, who somehow ended up on the other side of the street, you jump as high as you can, ending up on the demon’s shoulder. With a perfectly executed twirl and a well-placed target, you aimed at the weak spot and shot at it. It isn’t enough to do any real damage. Dante follows your lead, does the same thing: but you need to change your tactics.

“We have to bring him down, Dante!” you say as you two land down.

“Easy,” he dashes at the same time as you. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

You huff in agreement, focused on the task at hand. You go right between the demon’s legs, each of you slashing the Achille's heel. The monster hisses in pain and opens the mouth you didn’t think it had and yells. It’s a deranged sound and it makes your skin crawl, but you’re glad to see that it made the monster kneel. It falls on its fours, looking even grotesque now that it was down. You don’t waste time and you two jump on it, aiming your weapons at the weak spot. You hack and slash and Dante uses one of his fancy moves to give it the finishing blow. The red bubble bursts into a cloud of intoxicating smoke, a few drops of blood—acid—fly toward you but you dodge them before they can burn you, jumping off the body in case it exploded or something. Nothing of the sort happened, but you’re still a few feet clear of it, Dante grinning by your side.

“Good job, sweets,” he roughly puts a hand over your shoulder. “We make a good team.”

You laugh half-heartedly, thoughts back on Nero. You wish he was your partner again, to share this moment with him, not Dante. But he’s not here.

And maybe—maybe that’s fine.

Who are you lying to?


Nero sees all of it. From the beginning to the end. And he’s envious by the obvious chemistry between the two of you, how easy was for you two to understand each other. Was it the same with you and him? It makes him wonder and he’s definitely jealous—but he has no reason to. He’s just happy to see you, his childhood friend, after such a long time. He has always liked you—spending time with you. Precious memories he wouldn’t trade for the whole world. So of course he wanted to keep you for himself. But you—liking Dante.

It sounded impossible. It always seemed like you...admired him. Now—fuck, he was at a loss, he wasn’t sure you felt the same as you did all those years ago. But he had Kyrie, why was he thinking about you when—

‘You know the answer, Nero.’

He does. He never forgot about it.

Dante knows he’s there. When you’re not paying attention, he turns around and offers him a look that had only one message:

What are you going to do about it, kid, if it bothers you so much?

Nero had no clue.

Chapter Text

Things have changed; and you had no idea why.

No—you did. Ever since Nero found out that you ‘liked’ Dante, the younger demon hunter started ignoring you. Or, more like, stopped being personal with you. He still talked to you like nothing was wrong, but there wasn’t any warmth in his words. Whenever he was around you, he acted as if he wanted to be somewhere else entirely. It hurt. It was as if you were acquaintances and not childhood friends who went through a lot in the past. He wasn't acting like your partner lately—and you didn't even bother to partner with him after that. In fact, you did the opposite: you resorted to hanging out with Dante—just out of spite. You loved Nero's small scowls whenever he saw you two around, even if he had no right to. Sometimes he made rude remarks about you two getting a room, to which Dante responded by hugging or kissing you on the cheek (very sensual, might I add). That would leave Nero fuming. 

It was kind of annoying, but you pretended like nothing was wrong. If Nero wasn’t going to believe you, then fuck him. You enjoyed making him squirm. Everything that happened with Dante was casual, especially when Nero was not around. He's been missing lately; you didn't want to think about him spending time with Kyrie, but that's probably why he was gone all the time. 
And was it just you, or was he sulky? 

You moved on. You didn't care: if he wasn't going to talk to you, then so be it. He's a big boy now, he can take care of himself and solve whatever problems he had. 

So here you are, after a long day’s work, chilling in (surprisingly) peace and quiet in the van, on the couch. No one’s there to bother you, everyone went about their business. The perfect time to get lost in thoughts and maybe sleep. You just wanted to close your eyes and—

“[name]!” So much for that.

You let out a long, dejected sigh, “What is it, Dante?” You shouted, cursing Dante for not leaving you alone on this fine day.

“Yo!” The brusque opening of the door startles you and you blush, angered that he made you jump. “Hah, did I scare you?”

“Fuck off, Dante. What do you want?” You resume your relaxed position, willing him away. 

“Well,” Dante closes the door and you hear his boots clomping on the floor, “I need you for something.” He sits down on the couch, at your feet. His fingers tentatively comb over your knees, but don’t go any further up.

“What? Not another prank of yours, please.”

“No, no, nothing like that—in fact, today I am serious.” That took you by surprise; that it rarely happened. Something was troubling him. You wondered what it was so you opened your eyes and stood up, giving him your full attention.

He deserved it—and you were genuinely curious about helping him.

“Wassup then, my mischievous demon hunter?” you ask, staring into his beautiful eyes. You started to feel slightly uncomfortable at the closeness between you two; but it’s nothing new. Being alone with him put you on the edge, even if Nero was not around. And about the topic of this serious discussion…

Nah. No way—

“It’s about Nero.”

Your heart instantly calmed down and you let out a suppressed sigh that you didn’t know you had inside. At least it’s not about you and Dante; but then anxiety crept up inside your heart, cold tendrils chilling your blood.

What was it with Nero?

Did something happen to him?

Was he hurt?


All of these questions, Dante could read on your face, and he tried to reassure you with a smile.

“Nothing serious, promise,” he tells you. “It’s just—ugh, how the hell am I going to tell you this?” He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, frustrated. 

“With words?” you try to joke, but it comes out dry. What was going on here?
He takes a deep breath, “Nero and Kyrie—” What about them? “—they broke up.”

The world comes tumbling down like thunder. You lose focus for a few seconds, your head spinning with shock and shame that the first thought that crossed your mind was: “I have a chance now!” That was horrible. You didn’t really mean it for them to break up. You wanted Nero to be happy, not miserable—and if Kyrie was his special one, then so be it. Hearing this piece of information baffled and upset you. Sure, Nero could’ve lied about how well he is doing in this relationship, but he was an honest person. He wouldn’t lie. So—

“Wha—” your throat feels dry, and you have to gulp to stabilize your voice. “What happened?”

Dante shrugs, “The kid won’t tell me. He was just mopey lately and then BAM! this pops out.” You noticed Nero was rather pissed off about something—or even slightly nostalgic. Maybe even sad, conflicted about something. You thought it was because of you and the fact that you were ignoring each other and obviously not working together. That was foolish—you were not that important and it’s not like he cared that much about you. You’ve been gone for a long time...

“I never noticed…” you say, heartbroken. You should’ve paid more attention to him and not act so butthurt. You could’ve helped him get past this, persuade him to not do it. He lost his mind, clearly. You could’ve done so much…

And yet you did nothing.


Dante puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, but you don’t feel better. Nothing could make you feel better. Maybe just talking to Nero would, but did he really want that? To talk with you? How can you even approach such a subject? ‘Oh, hey, Nero, how are you and Kyrie lately?’ And then he’ll burst into tears because he was a crybaby when he was little. But he’s a grown man now—he’s different. You’re different and you can handle this, can’t you?   

“I want you to talk to him,” Dante seems to have the same idea. “You’re the closest to him. Maybe you can cheer him up.” He lowers his gaze, looking troubled. “I don’t know what to do.”

That warmed your heart, to be honest. “Never knew you cared so much about Nero, Dante.” Your laughter makes Dante’s cheeks go slightly pink, but he hides it well behind the white veil of hair. That was sweet of him. But you weren’t sure if you were the right choice for this; could you still cheer him up like you used to before? 

“I care about you all,” Dante interrupts your line of thought. You lift your head just in time to meet Dante’s lips on your forehead. It made you gasp in surprise—and your chest swelled with warmth. You closed your eyes and had a stupid smile on your face. Maybe this was all possible after all. “I just don’t show it.”


“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill ya.”

“My lips are sealed,” you swear.

“Now go talk to Nero.”

With a deep sigh that gathers up your courage, you ask Dante where you can find the boy. He tells you he’s not far, chilling (as much as he could) on the roof of a nearby building. You were parked on the outskirts of the city, away from trouble. There were a few buildings around where Nero could’ve run—but still, it’s going to take some work.

Never mind; you’ll do this. For Nero’s sake.

Thanking Dante for warning you, you’re halfway to get out of the room when Dante calls after you: “Just don’t let him go this time.”

You don’t wait to ponder his words: and you don’t want to. He probably knows too much anyway, either by luck or he’s just very observant. But he’s right—you won’t let Nero alone anymore, no matter how much he hates you. He needs you, even if he won’t admit it. He always did; and you always needed him too. You loved him so damn much and he was a fool for being so blind. And you were a fool for letting him go before; you didn’t even hope to be his girlfriend or something—just for him to accept you again.

You’re out in the chilly air (you couldn’t really believe it was summer) and jump on a nearby building with ease. Looking back and forth, left and right, you try to decipher Nero’s silhouette in the dark, but you don’t spot him easily as you’re roaming. How far could he have gone? You have no idea—and just when you were about to move on, you catch a whiff of his smell. You follow it, heart rate increasing with each step. You jump onto another building and the scent is getting stronger: you’re on the right path. And, surely, you see his back as he’s sitting on the ledge, overseeing the city. You let out a huff, louder, in case he didn’t figure out you were here. This was it. You don’t hesitate as you carefully walk over, acting as if you weren’t losing your mind with worry over him. He looks so peaceful as he’s sitting there, soaking up the moon’s rays, dousing him in an ethereal light, the city glinting with yellow orbs like stars. It was a rather beautiful (and romantic) scenery, but you didn’t come here to admire the panorama.

You’re here for Nero.

He knows you’re there; of course he does. He turns his head halfway and you can see his chiseled profile. As perfect as ever and you catch your breath in your throat. But there is no time for fangirling over him. You’ve seen him a thousand times (and it never gets old) but no—focus on the task at hand, [name]. Nero says nothing as you slowly approach him, hands behind your back to appear nonchalant. You arrive by his side, his eyes trained on you curiously (yet almost predatory). You try not to shudder at the intensity in his gaze as you sit down next to him, as close as possible, without invading his privacy. He says nothing, returning his gaze to the moon, but you feel his warmth and sadness pouring out of him and your heart squeezes painfully. You want to help him be better, smile again; you should’ve been there for him when he needed you to be. Fuck that stupid prank: so what if he believed you liked Dante when it wasn’t true? You could’ve proved him wrong by never being with Dante. He was more like a (hot) father figure to you.

It didn’t matter now. You were here—and you had to make things right.


“I know why you’re here,” he cuts you off, abruptly. You don’t know why he’s so pissed off about, frowning and furrowing his brows. “You’re here to pity me.”

You shake your head, confused, “Why would I do that?”

“Everyone does. As if I got dumped.” There’s bitterness in his voice.

“Weren’t you?”

He snaps at you, “Do you really think Kyrie is capable of that? She loves me.” You say nothing. I love you too. Instead, you shrug and he goes on, answering your unsaid question. “I did it because I couldn’t lie to her anymore.”

That caught your attention. “Lie about what?”

But he doesn’t answer straight away and changes the subject, “How are you and Dante?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Really? Dante? He’s so stupid.

“Just—” he pleads you with his eyes, and you listen, “Just—answer the question.”

You sigh, shaking your head as if he’s a big baby (which he is) that didn’t understand when you told him the first time. “Nero, I told you it was just a stupid joke. Nico thought it was funny, but obviously it wasn’t.” You cross your arms, pouting. You haven’t forgiven Nico yet for lying, but lately, you’ve warmed up to her. The deed was done and you’re not one to hold grudges. “I can’t believe you all fell for it,” you felt like over-explaining yourself. But he wasn’t looking very happy with your response. “Dante is like a father to me. He’s attractive but—”

“Please, say no more,” he raises a hand to stop you, exasperated. “I don’t want to hear what you think about Dante.”

You playfully punch him in the arm, forgetting yourself for a few seconds. “Honestly—didn’t I hear you enough gushing about Kyrie? How does that make me feel?” You try to joke but the subject is too sour for Nero and he doesn’t respond. You sigh and add, just to reassure him, “I—I like someone else.”

That certainly caught his attention and he turns his head toward you so hard you were afraid it was going to pop. “What?” His eyes are wide with surprise and hurt and jealousy—and it hits you hard. “Who? When? How?” He was trying to find too much; and you weren’t sure you were in the mood to confess.

You twiddle with your thumbs, avoiding his inquisitive gaze. “I’m not going to tell you…”

“Why not? You’re my best friend! Do I have to remind—”

“We haven’t been acting like best friends lately…” you interrupt in a sad tone, a fleeting gaze in his direction. He shuts up and you feel bad. You chastise yourself: why were you making this harder than you need to? “Sorry, Nero. I didn’t mean to. But—” you inhale deeply, shaking, “—I’ll tell you who I like if…If you tell me why you broke up with Kyrie.”

He purses his lips, ponders the idea then, with sweaty palms and thundering heart, he feels ready. Well, as ready as a heartbroken man could be, after making the biggest decision of his life. He’s going to face you head-on, heart open, not lies. He left Kyrie to do this; he got nothing else to lose but you, if you’re going to reject him now.

No time to be afraid.

So many maybes, so many ifs…

He should just go for it. Nero shyly grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers with yours. You’re taken aback, but you don’t pull away, looking at him with questioning eyes—and fear. What was going on here? He doesn’t let on into anything, despite usually being open like a book. He hides from you, jaw set tight. He’s tense and he’s slightly squeezing your hand, nervously. This was nerve-wracking and you hate the tiny hope blooming into your chest.

You squeeze his hand back, encouragingly.

“Kyrie’s a good girl, she deserves better—but she’s not you.

The words catch you unawares, but they’re soft and warms your heart. You relax and accept the meaning as if this was normal. You want to fly away to the moon with him in tow, to kiss him just then and there, to hug him and cry, tell him how much you loved him in return. But you suppress that suffocating affectionate feeling and wait for him to continue. It was kind of hard, though, fighting that smile off our face, the blush from your cheeks. You try to hide it behind your hand, though.

You squeeze him harder, giving him a sign that it was ok.

Nero can’t find his words, but he tries to. He has so much to say to you, he just doesn’t know where to start. It wasn’t as if his relationship with Kyrie was a lie; he really did care about her and he loved her in a different way than he did you. It has just been so easy for him to push you out of his mind when you left. He did it because he was hurt, he did it because he was young and curious and he was attracted to Kyrie. He did it because he never believed you’d like him back and he didn’t want to ruin your relationship. You were just kids—then all turned serious and you were gone and he was lost. When you came back, his whole world turned upside-down and feelings he thought he forgot came back, making him confused. He was in love with you again, like before. He got jealous over you liking Dante and, as much as he tried to deny it, he couldn’t. You were back in his life and he couldn’t lie to Kyrie anymore. He had to break it off—he did, explained everything and it was fine. As much as it could be in this situation. He hated himself for doing this to her, after everything they’ve been through. But it wasn’t fair—not for her, not for him, and not for you. He was risking it all here.

And he found his words.

“You weren’t supposed to come back. But you did—and I realized I never forgot you.” He’s getting emotional again, despite trying to hide it so badly.

You give him a helping hand, “You know who I love, Nero?”

The moment of truth—at least for him. He doesn’t know what you’re feeling, but you didn’t pull away until now so he has high hopes. Content with all of this, you rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes.

“You. It was always you.

“Really?” He can’t believe it and his voice is quivering, but he’s happy. He puts an arm around your shoulder, bringing you even closer to him. “You’re not fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“I’d never.” You’re smiling like a fool. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear this.”

“Haven’t said anything, though.”

“You want to say this wasn’t a love confession from you, Nero?”

He shrugs, but then softly kisses your hair. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
“I think it was. Stop trying to act all cocky,” you laugh.

“You like me cocky, don’t lie.”

You let out an ugly chuckle, “We haven’t got there yet, ass.”

It feels good to joke like this and it eases the tension between you two. You stay there, in silence, enjoying each other’s presence and thinking about what all this new information means for either of you. Will you take the next step and be together? But what about Kyrie? That would hurt her, won’t it? You can’t just act like assholes in front of her. But you oh-so-wanted to be together with him—finally.

“So, what now?” you have to ask.

“I still can’t get my head wrapped around this,” Nero answers. “All’s too fresh.”

“Yeah,” you admit. You didn’t want to feel guilty about being with Nero. “Do you think we should wait, figure things out?”

“I know what I want, it’s just—”

“I understand. Kyrie’s my friend too. I never meant it to end like this. My feelings for you—they were going to stay hidden.”

“You would have done that?”

“For you, yes. Anything to make you happy.”

Nero scoffs, “Cheesy.”

“Don’t underestimate my feelings,” you laugh.

“Never again.”

With that, you fall into silence again; but it was a comforting silence, one that spoke many words. You knew what you had to do: wait until you were ready to come out to the others that you were in a relationship. Because this what it was about, there’s no doubt. You two were together—what else was there? Whatever his decision, you’re going to accept it.

“Should we go back?” Nero asks after noticing you slightly shivering. He pulls you even closer to his hot body.

“Can I get a kiss if we do?” You ask, cheekily.

The young demon hunter flushes red in embarrassment and you’re glad you sneaked a peek at him. He looks so adorable, eyes bright, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked soft and—dare you say it out loud—in love? Ha ha. Nero—in love—with you. That’s a funny thought. It was so funny to you that you burst into soft laughter; a thing that startles him. He lets you go as you stand up, stretching. Your whole mood lifted—and you were glad that you made him happy too. Things were looking great (ok, but you were still feeling bad about Kyrie, hope she’ll forgive you two).

“I was just joking, Nero, don’t look at me like that.” The demon hunter looked lost—but you didn’t need a kiss from him to prove anything. His words and actions were enough. “Come on, let’s go.”

You turn around to go, expecting him to follow you. You hear him stand up—then your name coming out of his mouth. Before you could turn around on your own, he grabs your wrist and pulls you toward him. You stumble into his arms, but he’s quick to react and lifts your chin. He meets you straight-on, a bit clumsy, a bit too forceful. But your lips were on his—and it was a kiss alright. It’s brief and you crave for more sweetness, but he doesn’t let you. He’s smirking as if he pulled the biggest prank on you—the cocky little shit. Yet that tiny blush on his cheeks was giving him away. Nero always was a nervous wreck when it came to romance, but it’s nice to see him so confident. 


“It’s a promise, [name].”

There’s more where this came from.  

Chapter Text

It’s been weeks since you’ve kissed Nero. And gosh you fucking missed him.

Things returned to normal: you lied to Dante about what really happened but, judging by his look, he knew better. In fact, it seemed like everyone knew what was going on between you two. But Nero and you acted as if nothing was wrong. Like you’ve reconciled as friends and he was sad because of Kyrie (which was still true, but he also had you now and it made things better). You were partners again and kicked demon ass constantly—actually, you worked even better now that you were a couple. And, well, you couldn’t keep your hands off of him whenever you found yourselves alone. He didn’t mention any rule against you two touching; and it wasn’t as if he said ‘no’. He held your hand tightly as if he didn’t want to let you go. He rubbed his thumb over your palm, comforting, trying to memorize something he has lost (and oh how many times you’ve held hands when you were kids). He was extra cute when he was staring at you longingly, most of the time his gaze lingering on your lips—you wanted to kiss him as much as he did. The first one—that fleeting breeze of a kiss—felt wonderful and new and old at the same time. It was a shame he only got a glimpse of the passion lingering inside you with that kiss...

You had to show him how much he meant to you. 

That time will come soon. For now, you were content with spending more time with him and enjoying his presence. It was all you could ask for. You didn’t want any prying eyes spying on you when you wanted to hold his hand. And the japes about how good you looked together when you rested your head on his shoulder were getting rather old. It was annoying and embarrassing—you didn’t want Kyrie to hear that he already found happiness alongside you. Either she finds out from you and Nero, or she doesn't find out at all. You didn’t want any kind of unwanted attention; you just wanted to enjoy this newfound love and uncover Nero’s secrets. He was a lovable person, romantic at heart, taking care of you just like you knew he would. He was careful and he was holding you in high regard, as if you were a glass doll he was afraid to touch.

But you could see it in his eyes: he craved you. It’s safe to say you did too.

“We’re here,” you tell him as soon as you spot the van in the distance. “Time to let go.”

“And if I don’t want to?” he purrs, teasing you by hovering above your lips—a giant shit-eating grin adorning his features.

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you ready for that?”

The young demon hunter cutely pouts, like a kicked puppy. He obviously wanted to show you to the world, to hold and kiss you without hiding. But Kyrie’s ghostly unresponsiveness lingered between you two and you didn’t want to do anything without her approval. Or, at least, to know that it was ok for her.
It won’t ever be, but...

“...Well, I want you, [name].” In more ways than another.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly, then in the next moment, you let him go. You had to act like there was nothing wrong. “Come.”

You try to ignore the disappointment in his expression as you turned around and started walking toward the van. Nero followed you soon after, keeping a distance. You acted like friends again, though the smiles you had told otherwise. However, as you got closer, you noticed the group gathered outside the van. Everyone was there and, before you could question the reason why, you saw Kyrie in the middle.

Your heart stilled, and you felt Nero freeze alongside you. What was she doing here?  You risked a glance at Nero, who only had his eyes glued on the redhead.

“Nero—what do we do?” you whisper to him, willing your body to keep on moving. Nero doesn’t follow and you tug him by the arm, a bit forcefully due to your nerves.

“Why are you lagging there, slowpokes?” Dante waves a hand in the air. “You have a guest.”

An uninvited yet late guest.

“Nero—” you were beginning to panic. You weren’t ready for this. Not right now. You needed him. 

Instead, he finally finds his balls and interlaces his fingers with yours.

“This is it.”

You gasp softly at his action. He’s smiling a bit forcefully, but he’s sure of himself. He’s going to do this: for you, for himself. For lost and newfound love, for your kisses and smile. You knew it. 
This was it.


“I want to talk to you,” Kyrie says, making eye contact with you.

“Huh? Uhh—” you weren’t sure what to say. It was out of your area of expertise and you had no idea how to react.  “Su-Sure, all three of us—”

“I only want to talk to you, [name].” The redhead is smiling so brightly, it was as if she wanted to talk to you about her grandma’s cake recipe. “With Nero—” she casts him a fleeting glance, “—I know what he thinks.”

“Kyrie—” Nero wants to say something, pleading Kyrie with his eyes (she doesn’t need another apology, but he’ll still do it until he’ll stop feeling sorry about it).

“Nero, please?” she gently touches Nero’s cheeks, her feelings pouring out of her then and there. It was too much for you to handle, so you look away.

Why did you ever let yourself get between them?

“I’m not upset,” Kyrie goes on, when it’s clearly not. But she seemed—fine. As much as someone in this situation can be. “I just have something to tell [name].” She focuses back on you and you flinch as if she slapped you. Get a hold of yourself, [name], she’s not going to murder you. “It won’t take long.”

“Come on, kid,” Dante slings an arm around Nero and starts walking away. “Let’s take a walk.”
Trish gives you an encouraging smile as they're all walking away—wasn't very comforting. You only wanted to run away from all of this. Why should you talk to Kyrie? There was nothing (a lot) to be said. Panicking, you sought help—then you catch Nero’s gaze. His beautiful blue eyes stare at you lovingly, and he slightly nods.

You can do this. For us.

And yes—you can do this. For us.

You take a deep breath, “Shall we go inside?”

“I won’t take much of your time, [name].” But she nonetheless follows your lead and enters the van. You plop yourself on the couch and she gently sits on the edge of it, as if she wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. Which she most likely did.

“So...” you start, feeling awkward. However, Nero’s expression and loving gaze kept you determined and courageous to see this through.

“I don’t hate you, [name],” she starts. “I never did—and I never will.” Her smile is reassuring and you feel your body relieving itself of the tension. “You’re my friend, even if—even if Nero always came in between.” Ok, here is where it goes downhill. “I am not blaming anyone for this,” she hangs her head as if ashamed. “Maybe I’ve been selfish about it...”

“NO!” you cry, hand on heart. “I—I was the selfish one...I stole Nero from you. I honestly didn’t mean for it to happen—I-I-I was fine with you two being together even if—even if he never answered to my feelings.” You pleaded her with your eyes, wanting her to understand that she wasn’t at fault: it was all you. “Kyrie, if you still want him back, I—”

“I don’t want him back, [name],” she grabs your hand in comfort. “He made his decision. And it’d be unfair to him to—to force him.” She was right. The demon hunter chose this. He could’ve ignored his burning feelings for you and pretend all was a lie. He didn’t, though: he chose you. “I know Nero loves you. I saw it every day when he knew I wasn’t looking. Sometimes, he’d get quiet and fall into thought, as if he was trying to remember something. Or, maybe, he was trying not to forget.” Her voice dips low, “I think he was trying to keep your memory alive...”

You feel bad for letting your heart skip a beat: that sounded so romantic.

“He’d always tell me it was nothing when I asked him if anything was wrong. But I knew—” she lifts her eyes, looking at you. “I knew it was about you. And I stole him from you.”

“You did not—”

“I did. Back then. When you left. I was aware that you two—had something special going on. My sin was pretending I didn’t.”


Kyrie blushes to her ears, as if she was ashamed of what she has done in the past. “I knew you liked each other. Neither of you probably noticed, but—when Nero came to me, I didn’t care. I took him for myself.”

“Oh.” It all made sense now. And, somehow, you couldn’t blame her at all. “I see…”

“Sometimes, I even imagined you wouldn’t come back,” she whispers in a low voice. “That was wrong of me. And I’m sorry.”

She was on the verge of crying and you grabbed her hands, squeezing. “No—Kyrie, you don’t need to cry! Please, you’ve got nothing to apologize for. We were kids, we—” you take a deep breath. “Nero was in love with you, whether he also had feelings for me or not. That much is true. You did nothing wrong.”


“No, stop,” you firmly tell her. “I don’t blame you or Nero for what happened. I’m glad you two were together. And—And I’m sorry for doing this to you.”

“[name], Nero was never meant for me.” It broke your heart to hear her so sad. You wanted to turn back time, to fix this, to never fall for Nero and let them be free in love. Were you allowed to be selfish? You didn’t want to—the guilt and shame were eating at you. But—

“Can you forgive me, Kyrie?”

She smiles brightly, “I already did.” It feels as if a weight lifted off your heart with just that one sentence. You smile back, kind of unsure, kind of happy. “Can you?”

“Yeah. But—”

“I want Nero to be happy, [name]. He won’t be with me.”


“Shut up,” she playfully flicks your forehead. “It’s for the best. And I don’t regret it. You have my blessing,” she giggles. “You don’t have to hide anymore.” You look to the side, embarrassed. “And if you need embarrassing stories about Nero, you know where to come!”

“Now that I want to hear.” You two share a laugh and you feel like a butterfly, fleeing with joy. Your head is in the clouds and you want to run to Nero and kiss him straight on the lips.




Nero. Nero. NERO. “Nero!”

Your heart is soaring with joy and love and all the positive feelings in the world. You’re running, frantically attempting to determine Nero’s whereabouts. He was nowhere and you hated it—until you caught a whiff of him. You speed up, through the streets and pushing people that got in your way, until you somehow arrive in front of the true Devil May Cry. How did that happen? It felt like magic. You’ve rarely been here, preferring to crash into Nico’s van (and stay with Nero, of course). It was an interesting place, though, filled with cool stuff Dante collected over the years. A bit rundown, but…

Oh well.
There he was: Nero. He was sitting on the steps alongside Dante and the group. They were all chatting and joking, but when they noticed you, they stopped and grinned in your direction. Except for Nero, who was a bit worried, unsure of what to expect. When he saw your grin, his expression turns around: a smile from ear to ear. His eyes lit up and he jumps up, ready to embrace you. You pick up the pace, eager to reach your lover. When you’re close, he opens his arms and you jump into them. He catches you easily, snaking his arms around your waist as you grab his neck for support. You bury your nose into his jacket, while he inhales the scent of your hair.

“Everything alright?” he whispers, but he already knows the answer.

“Yeah, yeah—don’t worry.”

He puts you down, gazing into your eyes like you were his everything (which you probably were).  “So—”

“Ok, lovebirds, this is all romantic and stuff, but I don’t want to hear it,” Dante clears his throat, annoyed, yet with a smile on his face.

“Now I—” Nico sighs, conflicting emotions across her face. “Now I don’t what to feel about all this...”

Fair enough—she’s Kyrie’s friend more than you were. Maybe that’s why she acted like that before, trying to warn her about your intentions (even if you weren’t planning on doing anything). Well, life goes on—and it’s not happy for everyone. You can forgive yourselves and get used to the changes.
You apologized and you got a (reluctant) approval, but it was still better than nothing.

“You’ll get used to it,” Trish says sassily, hands on her hips. Was she an 'avid' supporter of you and Nero? Seemed like it. 

“I’m sorry—”

“You’ve got nothing to be ‘sorry’ about,” Dante stops you. “It’s just the way things are.” You look at the older demon hunter with new eyes—but he doesn’t let you get used to his softer side. He grins sexily and almost wiggles his eyebrows at you two as he opens his mouth, suggestively, “Well, gang, seems like we have to go.”

“What? Why?” Nico is thoroughly confused, while Lady and Trish nod like two protective mothers. They knew what was up—and you didn’t want to think that he was referring to...
You glanced at your demon hunter and you notice the way he was avoiding your gaze, embarrassed. His cheeks were red and he was pursing his mouth in a way that told you he knew what this was about. No—no way...

“Enjoy the house, kiddies,” Dante shouts, laughing joyously, grabbing Nico by the arm and dragging her away (despite her protests). “Don’t break too much stuff or you’ll pay!”

Your eyes widen, staring from Dante to Nero. What was this all about? Why was Dante giving you the whole Devil May Cry? This was insane! And they weren’t all expecting to...


They were gone out of sight before you could call after them and tell them that this wasn’t exactly what you wanted. But it was too late, so it was just you and Nero now, standing embraced in front of the building like two fools.

You pout at him, “What’s that all about?”


“You’re not getting in my pants that easily, Nero.” A big fat lie.

“That’s not what—” he was getting flustered and it was adorable. At least that part of him never changed. He shrugs, helpless, “I don’t know, I figured that—We’d spend some time alone, after—” He’s pleading you with his puppy eyes, “I was just trying to do something nice, I—” he sees your half-amused expression and loses it, “Don’t judge me, ok?!”

You roll your eyes, taking his hand in yours, “Well, whatever—since we’re already here...” you drawl on, trying to be as suggestive as possible (without being too aggressive). He says nothing as you pull him behind you, opening the doors to the Devil May Cry and entering the premises. You don’t have time to examine your surroundings (and enjoy the things Dante had), and your mind is certainly not focused on exploring Dante’s lair right now. You glance back at Nero meaningfully, and he’s looking back at you. You don’t know where you’re guiding him, but you’re up the stairs and next thing you know, you open a door. It’s dark inside but, through the only window in the room, come the last sun rays. They fell on Dante’s sad little bed. You stop next to it, staring at Nero; and, ever so slowly, you take off his jacket. It falls to the floor—he takes off yours, while you struggle with his shirt. When he’s done with you, he lifts his arms, allowing you to take it off. It goes on like this, your shirt, then his shoes, then yours, then his pants, then yours. When you are out of items to disrobe (save for your underwear), you study each other, as if it was uncharted territory. It wasn’t: you’ve done this all before, stripping naked and sleeping in a bed together. But you were innocent back then, and you’ve seen it all before. Yet, Nero has a lot more scars than before, fading, but still noticeable. You wondered how he saw you: as before? Different? With flaws? Too slim? Too chubby?

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, taking you by the waist and planting a sweet and much-needed kiss on your mouth. You eagerly respond, pouring all you had for him, finally free from the guilt. You kiss him as if the world ends tomorrow and you have no time to tell him how much you love him. He kisses you back as if he’s afraid of letting himself go, passionate, loving, needy, pressing. It makes you chuckle and he smiles back into the kiss, holding you ever so close. You remain without air and part, panting softly while looking at each other under a new light.

“Should we...?” you nod at the bed, feeling like a teenager. Giddy. In love. He looks positively amused and embarrassed, but he doesn’t say ‘no’. He remembers that day too, when he wanted to experiment and kiss you to see how your lips tasted like. A curiosity he never satisfied until now.

You tasted like the best food he ever had.

It was wrong of him to think of you as food, but his brain wasn’t really thinking straight right now, with you in your underwear in front of him. You matured in all the right places, you were delicious-looking—and he couldn’t wait to touch you thoroughly, to explore every inch of your skin. His fingers were tingling and he ached to touch you again, to kiss you slowly, hard, rough, sweet—in every way. He wants to find out what you like so he can please you as best as he can. He wants to know your secrets, to make new memories...

You two jump into the bed, on the side, facing each other. Your arms and hands find familiar bodies, snaking around each other and bringing your bodies close together. You stare into each other’s eyes, gazing deep—you felt your cheeks flush from the intensity of it.

God, he was so beautiful. Shame for the hair, though, even if you got used to it.

As you were thinking that, you ran your fingers through his short hair; it felt nice. You sigh, content. “This feels...” you honestly had no words, but it had to be said. You’re back to the beginnings, where everything was innocent: you were young again, looking at Nero with curiosity. You breathe him in, exhale love, and your thoughts are a jumble.

What was he thinking about now? Was he oversensitive as you were?

“Familiar?” he completes your sentence, grinning cutely.

“Yeah, I think so,” you exhale. “Do—Do you remember?”

“Of course I do.”

“What were you thinking about, back then?” You’re genuinely curious; you’ve wanted to know about this for a long time. It felt only right to ask.

“Heh, well,” he darts his eyes to the side, “things I shouldn’t say?”

You chuckle, “Seriously?”

“I was curious. Can you blame me?”
“Nah. I look ravishing.”

“That you do.”

“So...” you trail off, feeling heat pooling inside your belly. Since you had one leg between his own, you could feel him slightly growing with each second, his eyes scanning your every nook and cranny. You slowly and deliberately rubbed that spot with your thigh, gently as to not hurt him. His eyes widen pleasantly, then cloud over with desire, a cocky smirk on that pretty mouth of his. “How you’ve been lately?”

He groans, a deep rumble in his throat. A bit of rolling eyes that show you how frustrating it was that you were playing innocent right now when it was obvious. Otherwise, why did you bring him here? Why did you act so hurt about him wanting to spend some time alone (honestly, he never intended to actually do something with you, but seems like you had other plans)? He didn’t mind, not one bit: he’s fantasized over this moment a long time ago, imagining how it would feel, picturing your reactions.

Nero had a feeling that reality would be better than his imagination.

“Hey, you ignoring me, Nero?”

“Ugh, shut up,” he growls, grabbing your face with his metal hand. It feels cool on your skin, but a welcomed feeling.  “You talk too much.” You do because you’re nervous about what was going to happen: but before you can voice that thought, he brings you in for a kiss. You quickly get lost into it, forgetting your nervousness and everything that might’ve changed your mind. After successfully distracting you, his hand runs down your neck, up to your shoulder, rubbing it a little while—as if trying to comfort you. You continue to indulge in the kiss, sparks flying as you open your mouth willingly to allow him access. He tests the waters a bit reluctantly, preferring to focus on your skin rather than anything else. You had no idea whether his arm had any sensors that made him feel the texture of your skin, but he seemed to enjoy himself as his fingers trailed downwards, over the curves of your hips. You shudder at the cold sensation, pulling your body closer to him, seeking his warmth. He chuckles, amused, and playfully pinches your hard nipples through your bra.

“Ah!” you gasp in his mouth, then pull away. “Nero!” but it sounds more like a moan than anything else.

“What?” He’s challenging you with his gaze—and, honestly, you are in the mood to take it. With one swift motion, taking him unguarded, you push him on his back, pinning his arms above his head as you jump on top of him. Nero lets out a huff of surprise, his lips partly opened: it just made him adorable as fuck. Yet you didn’t hope you’d maintain this position for long—he was stronger than you and he can easily topple you. He doesn’t do it, though, relaxing under your grip. But, fuck, he looked so vulnerable under you, arms raised, muscles beautifully straining, his chest and abs exposed for your enjoyment. You just wanted to lick them all, to touch them—but you felt as if he’d take advantage of you if you let his wrists loose.

Besides, you actually liked this predicament.

“Got you now, demon hunter,” you coo seductively, straddling his hips. Through the fabric of your underwear, you could see how hard he was. You bet he could feel how wet you were too. You lean over to him, inches apart from his lips. “What are you going to do?”

Cheeks flushed, he answers, vibrating with excitement, “Whatever you want to do.”

Having Nero under control was an interesting prospect; one that drove you mad with want. It had to be said, though, “Isn’t this hurting your fragile ego, Nero?”

Hey, maybe he was into some kinky shit.

Babe, I’m enjoying this more than you can imagine,” he purrs, a spark in his eyes. You now just noticed the way he was panting, true to his words.

“Ah, so you like to be submissive?” you tease.

Nero scoffs, but the blush on his cheeks was a giveaway. “Just today.”

“Oh, yeah?” you smirk, starting to grind against him. He lets out a strangled moan, tossing his head back. You go on, grinding against his hard dick as if he was a pole. Nero doesn’t seem to dislike it, finally closing his eyes and letting you take the reigns. It was a hot view and you can’t help yourself: you also want to be touched. You let his arms go—and he immediately takes advantage of that. His hands rest on your hips; but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. His human hand cups your titty, but he’s not satisfied with that. He expertly unhooked your bra and you let it fall on the bed. He feels much better now that he was touching your nipples, skin to skin; and you don’t waste the opportunity to run your palms over his chest and muscles. They felt amazing.

“Nero...” you breathe out his name. You had to make sure that this process was not uncomfortable for you: rubbing against fabric was not the most pleasant thing in the world to do. However, Nero was clearly enjoying himself by the way he was tossing and turning his head. As if he’d never felt something this good in his life. You doubted it—but maybe he was acting this way because of you, a person he’d dreamed of all this time and never had the opportunity to do it. “Nero?”

He opens his eyes with an annoyed groan, staring at you with half-lidded eyes. He was panting harder now as you kept on moving, harder and faster.

“What?” he sounded strained, as if he was closer to his climax. Ha ha, no way, no?

“Do you like this?”

He pinches your nipple as a way to respond, earning a hiss. “Does it look like I don’t?”

“It feels like you’re enjoying this too much. You sure you can hold on?”

“I—” he breathes out, trying to decide if he was going to lie or not. “I won’t.”

His admission drives you insane and you finally kiss him, savagely. He answers weakly, focused on your private zones touching. You grab his hair, pulling his head back, and grind against him slowly—that was the last straw for him.

“Shit, SHIT!” he calls out, wrapping his arms around your body and crushing you to his chest. You feel his dick tensing and, judging by the way he was moaning and groaning in your ear, you knew he was cumming right then and there. You weren’t disappointed; in fact, you were glad he was this eager for you and that it was you who made him feel like this. After he was finished (he did come rather violently), his grip on you loosens and you straighten, watching him unfold. He was breathing erratically, pink on his cheeks and sweat glistening on his skin. He’s taking a few minutes to catch his wits because that.was.AMAZING. And if a bit of dry-humping felt this good, then how would fucking feel like?

The white-haired demon hunter finally opens his eyes and sees your amused expression for the first time: a stupid plastered grin on your swollen lips.

It dawns on him, finally, of what happened.
“Fuck, this is embarrassing,” he says, hiding his face underneath his hands.

“Oh, no, no, no,” you giggle, prying his hands off of him. “Don’t worry about it, I enjoyed it. Very much.”

“You’re just saying that—” he pouts, disappointed in himself a little bit.

“Stop it, Nero, I’m really not.” You make him look at you. “We have plenty of time from now on, don’t we?”

He’s not entirely convinced, but he doesn’t protest as you kiss him romantically.

“Yeah...” he sighs. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“I hope so,” you laugh.

Plenty of time to discover one another.
The world was your oyster.
And you were going to enjoy the hell out of it.