Chapter Text
Days off have been far and few between when some undisclosed fissure is impossible to find. Dante and Vergil both have been scouring every possible location looking for the thing, leaving you and Nero to handle the demons that are able to slip into the city. Weeks of nonstop fighting has a high price, however, and you’re no part-demon to help fuel past exhaustion. Even though you don’t want to, you’re forced to the sidelines until receiving the clear from Nero that you’re fit for battle again. Though…if he had it his way, you’d never set foot out into the field of demon slaying ever again.
This is day two, and, aside from brief updates and check-ins, you haven’t heard from anyone. A good thing, in many regards, since calling would probably mean that there was an emergency. Something probably would have gone wrong, so you’re perfectly content with the silence as you lounge on this boyfriend-prescribed dose of bedrest.
And it’s what makes the sudden ringing of the phone so terrifying. You snatch it up without even checking to see who’s calling and bring it right to your ear, “Hello??”
Nico’s voice is urgent and your heart sinks as you hear the worried edge of your name.
“What’s wrong—what happened??”
“It’s Nero,” she begins and you suck in a breath, already out of bed and in your closet to change out of your pajamas. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with him.”
You pause, “Huh??”
“There was this giant ass demon flower pod lookin’ thing, all the vines were like sentient or some shit and slimy—it was gross as hell.”
“Okay..?”
“Nero was chopping away at it and I think it had some kinda venom or poison or something because the more he chopped, the more pollen this thing was shootin’ out into the air.”
You drop down on the edge of your bed with a bounce, trying to process the fact that Nico had scared you half to death over allergies. Wait…did Nero even have allergies? You’ve never seen him get so much as a cold before.
“I think it must only affect other demons, ‘cause I feel fine.”
With a long sigh, you rub your forehead. “Okay, so, what…you want me to bring out some allergy medication or..?”
“No, stupid, just listen!”
“Okay.”
“Nero went fuckin’ nuts. Started actin’ all weird and then just got super aggressive outta nowhere, even though he already killed the thing. And then, he just took off like a bat outta hell!”
“What??”
“Yeah, dumbass just took the hell off! I dunno where he went, he didn’t say anything.”
You try to consider the implications and possibilities. Weird pollen that made him aggressive and uncontrollable. Could have been the plant-demon’s defense mechanism to drive predators out of their minds, but seems like it wasn’t able to affect Nero fast enough to survive. And knowing Nero, he could probably tell something was off and took it upon himself to get away from Nico to circumvent hurting her. “All right…” You stand back up, and continue getting dressed. “I’m gonna go find him.”
“You sure that’s a good idea? Crazy asshole looked like he was ready to rip apart the next thing he could get his hands on.”
“Well…hopefully that won’t include me, but I can’t—” A sudden, loud bang downstairs startles you; pulling the phone away from your ear to listen for any more noise. Nico’s voice is still persisting, but you don’t hear what she’s saying before murmuring, “I’ll call you when I find him,” and hanging up. There’s thumping; quick, uneven movements that are not familiar. You grab your gun and move for the door, jerking to a halt and reflexively aiming as it flings open, slamming against the wall with the force. “What th—Nero!?”
Well, Nico certainly wasn’t wrong. One glance and you can see something is seriously wrong. His face is flushed and dotted with sweat, shoulders tense and shaking. And his eyes are that menacingly gold glow that normally ever shows when he’s transformed. The moment your eyes meet his, you witness his pupils blow out, darkening the eerie glow.
You’ve never been afraid of Nero in your life despite everything you’ve seen and know, but this moment is the closest you’ve ever been. You take a breath to speak, but before the air even leaves your lungs, he’s moving at such a speed, you don’t even know what the hell happened. All you know is that you’re suddenly pressed into the wall behind you and positively overtaken by Nero’s almost unbearable body heat. His nose presses to your neck as he takes a long breath, hands rough as his fingertips dig into your back. “Are you—are you smelling me???”
His response is an inhuman growl and it takes you all of half a second to realize what is going through his mind (or lack thereof) when he presses even closer, simultaneously pulling your hips to meet his; presenting you with how impossibly hard he already is.
“H-hang on—”
No such luck. Nero’s wings sprout from his back in a burst of light and with absolutely no pretense, rips at your pants. The denim tears easily for the spectral claws, exposing only the parts he currently cares about as the rest hangs in tattered ribbons over your thighs; then immediately pulls open the front of his own.
“Hey!!” Your arms feel like toothpicks trying to pierce stone as you push at his shoulders. His lips and teeth are already working spots of color into your neck. “Nero—!”
With exactly the same lack of care and thought he’s been displaying up till now, Nero’s fingers dig into your hips with bruising force as he angles them, using his thighs to force yours wide and rather unceremoniously drags you down to meet the surge of his hips.
The curse you were trying to get out dies in a choked gasp, Nero’s teeth set against the crook of your neck hard as he immediately thereafter begins moving.
There’s no rhythm or tempo to speak of, just Nero fucking up into you wildly as he growls and marks his territory on any bit of skin his teeth find. The force of his hips actually hikes you up against the wall bit by bit till you’re practically draped over him, clawing at the back of his jacket and hood and feet no longer even on the floor.
It was uncomfortable at first—almost bordering painful, but now…
“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck—” Your fingers wrench a hard grip in his hair, figuring he might appreciate the reciprocated lack of softness, and yank.
You were correct. Nero’s response is another dark noise, practically snarling to have his mouth removed from your marred neck; jerking somehow even more roughly up into you.
“Nero—” You’re not sure if he can even hear you right now, let alone understand, but you talk to him out of reflex, “Nero, I’m..!”
There’s some glimmer of hope that he’s at least somewhat cognizant when his arms wrap around your waist, fully taking your weight on himself before you’re being practically thrown off of him. Landing on the bed with a bounce, Nero doesn’t give you even a second to breathe before he’s grabbing hold of your thighs and dragging you back towards him. One hand presses on the back of your neck, holding your face against the bed, another yanks your hips up and just as hastily as before, he slams right back inside.
Each harsh movement of his hips jostles your entire body forward, rocking against the mattress you’re pinned to as he chases after his own gratification; seemingly spurred on by your litany of praises masked as curses. Even out of his mind, he knows what a string of continuous fuck’s means.
It seems like mere moments before he has you rocked up on the tips of your toes, body quaking and on the edge again. This time you don’t warn him, just in case he decides to pull another stunt, and let the only sign by the uncontrollable shaking and loud groan his motions shove out of you.
If it registers, he doesn’t seem to care; just keeps fucking you with no signs of slowing. One of his knees shoves at your thigh, hiking it up over his own as he leans on the mattress for an even better angle. A few more minutes and he’s worked you both fully up on the bed with your ass all the way up to meet the greedy drive of his hips. It doesn’t take long for him to need even more.
Nero pulls away, and honestly you’re glad for the momentary pause to catch your breath, short-lived as it is when he follows up by flipping you to the flat of your back. He looks positively ominous looming over you like that. His eyes still glow despite the dilation of his pupils and his fangs are out along with some telltale signs of his trigger ready to take over his body at any moment; pointed ears and his hair is long enough to fall in his face.
You take a shuddering breath, savoring the moment of being able to breathe, as Nero’s hands—both now dark and clawed and glowing up to his elbows—grip the underside of your thighs, just below the knee before practically folding you in half. Your knees hit your own shoulders and within a blink, Nero easily glides back inside your body, growling loudly at the welcoming give he’s greeted with.
And just like that, his body is enveloped with the shattering shards of light that transform his figure. His horns shape forward, long silver strands spilling down his back as the dark hide of his demon form completely fills out every inch of skin.
Inside, you can feel the effects of his sudden transformation, stretching you out to what you would have called impossible before. Your back arches involuntarily, chest pressing against your own thighs. Your hands flex, reaching out to grab, to hold onto his wrists as he pounds into you once again; needing something to ground you before you end up as incoherent as he is.
The noises he’s making are interesting to say the least. All that growling and you can’t help but think you’re hearing frustrated whines. Nero lets your legs over his shoulders so he can bear his weight down on his hands as he desperately tries reaching further than he’s seeming to manage. He leans away for a moment, knocks each of your knees from his ridged shoulders and promptly settles into the space your spread legs created for him.
His demon form is rough and hard against your human skin, but the feeling of his body finally blanketing yours is a wildly euphoric feeling and you immediately wrap around him. He ruts into you with snarls, sharp corners of his jaw and teeth pressing into your shoulder and you distantly find yourself thinking putting his face near your throat in this state of mind might have been the most dangerous thing you’ve done in your life.
“N-Nero—” you keen, still not sure if he’s even paying attention to your words, “Nero…Nero—” Your fingers twist through the long silky strands of silver, yanking his head up to find his mouth with yours. His tongue, longer than normal, immediately invades your mouth. Even the heat of his mouth is almost too hot and you soon have to break away to breathe.
He doesn’t seem to like that, forcing your face back to his with another one of those possessive sounds and not being careful of his fangs at all. Blood trickles down the side of your chin and Nero, as if he could smell it, immediately moves to clean it with one long lick. And he actually moans as he licks back into your mouth to share the taste with you.
Worryingly, that sound elicits a tight coil in the pit of your stomach.
Nero’s hips are still just as frantic as when he started, but there’s the faintest twitch of desperation as he drags his fangs over your neck. Whatever bit of rationality he has inside his head right now is clearly keeping him from tearing into the soft flesh of your neck—at least you hope—and he sets his bared teeth against your shoulder; chest rumbling low.
You’re exhausted, and approaching sore, almost desperate enough yourself to give him permission to bite down. But you’re no demon. A real bite from him in this form in particular would take forever to heal. In the hopes it satisfies some part of his carnally addled brain, you gather his hair in your fists again and pull. You’re met with the expected snarl as you crane his head back and lean up to drag your tongue up his neck, feeling him shudder. And when you bite—nowhere near animalistic as he probably would have actually preferred—Nero’s voice is thunderous. Doing your best to work a noticeable mark into his thick skin, his hips grind against you and with what you can only describe as a roar, you feel him spill into you. It’s hot and thick and you can feel it immediately beginning to seep out of your body despite the fact that Nero is still very much buried to the hilt.
You release him, falling back panting and boneless as you lay there hoping he doesn’t pass out overtop you. For a long moment, Nero is still, not moving to dislodge from your body, just quietly hissing his breath through his fanged teeth to catch his breath; until finally—finally—he pulls out. Normally you’re met with an empty feeling, but you’re still uncomfortably full; laying there totally fucked out and a sticky mess.
If your head was in the right place, you would have immediately gotten worried that Nero had yet to turn back, and the fact that he was still just as hard as when he started. The horror of the realization comes only after Nero’s hands grip your bruised hips to turn your lower body to the side; his knee nudging one leg up toward your chest.
“N-Nero…” you can’t hide the full-on despair in your voice, “Nero, no… I can’t…”
He either doesn’t hear you, comprehend, or care. Nero pushes on your thigh, spreading your flesh apart, takes one look at your leaking, abused hole and promptly shoves back inside.