Two years since he left you. Two years since he promised he would come back soon. Two years of missions, battles, searching, asking questions in every island and town he could reach. Two years of finding nothing about you.
Until now.
His eyes stop on the old house… Dadan's place.
He almost laughs at himself.
How did he not think of it before?
Of course you would come here and of course Dadan would take you in.
The door suddenly opens as soon as he knocks.
Dadan freezes, then her eyes narrow “You...”
Sabo scratches the back of his neck “Hey, Dadan.”
“Get lost.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Leave.”
“I just want to—”
“Leave.”
Her voice is loud enough that the birds nearby fly away.
Inside the house, someone speaks. Your voice “Dadan? Who is it?”
Sabo feels his heart jump into his throat “Y/N…”
Inside the house, you freeze.
That voice… after two years.
Dadan quickly steps outside and almost closes the door behind her.
“Nobody!” she shouts.
Sabo blinks “Nobody?”
“Exactly. Nobody important.”
“Dadan…”
“Go away.”
“I came all this way to see her.”
“Too late for that.”
His stomach twists “Please.”
Dadan's face hardens “Did you say please when you disappeared?”
Sabo opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
Dadan points down the mountain “Leave.”
Instead, Sabo gently pushes past her “Sorry.”
“Oi! Brat!”
He steps inside and stops. His bag almost slips from his hand.
You're sitting at the table.
You're here…
And for a second, all he sees is you.
Then his eyes move lower, to the small child sitting beside you.
The little boy kicks his legs against the chair. He looks unhappy, because you've stopped moving. because the spoon with his food stays frozen halfway to his mouth.
The little boy reaches toward it “Mm.”
No answer.
He points at his mouth “Mm!”
Still nothing.
Your eyes stay on Sabo. Shocked and unbelieving.
The child pouts, then he grabs your sleeve “Mom!”
The word hits the room harder than a cannon.
Mom.
Sabo stops breathing.
Reality crashes back in you and you finally move the spoon toward the child.
He happily eats the food.
Then you stand “Magra?”
Magra looks up from the corner “Yeah?”
“Can you feed him for a bit?”
“Sure.”
The little boy frowns immediately and calls you “Mama.”
You gently touch his hair and try your best to smile at him “I'll be back soon.”
He stares at you for a few seconds before looking toward Magra with great disappointment.
Magra snorts “Wow, thanks for the trust.”
The child ignores him completely.
Sabo is still standing near the door, still staring, and still trying to understand.
Dadan grabs his shirt hard “Out.”
This time he doesn't fight her, he lets her drag him outside.
The door slams behind them.
Then she yells “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
Sabo jumps “Dadan!”
“You disappear for two years!”
“I know.”
“You don't send any letter!”
“I couldn't—”
“You don't come back!”
“I was searching for her!”
“After leaving her alone?!”
Sabo falls silent.
Dadan steps closer “You idiot! Do you know how much she cried?”
His chest hurts.
“Do you know how long she waited?”
He lowers his eyes.
“Do you know what she went through?”
He says nothing, because he doesn't know… because he wasn't there to know all that.
Dadan points toward the house “She needed you.”
Every word feels heavier than the last.
“Instead she had us.”
Sabo clenches his fists.
Dadan steps closer “She… needed you.”
Sabo lowers his eyes “I know.”
“No, you don't.” her voice shakes with anger “You left and expected her to wait forever.”
“I never asked her to wait.”
“You didn't have to ask.”
The words hit harder than any punch.
Dadan points toward the house “She believed in you.”
Sabo says nothing… he just remembers everytime he left and you smiling and telling him to come back safely.
Because every time, he did come back… until he didn't.
“The Revolutionaries needed me.”
“And what? She didn't?”
He clenches his fists “I thought I still had time.”
Dadan lets out a bitter laugh “I'll tell you a funny thing about time.”
Silence falls between them.
“One day you look back and realize you missed the most important things… you should already know this very well, Sabo.”
Sabo looks toward the house… toward you.
His voice is almost a whisper “I searched for her.”
Dadan crosses her arms “After how long?”
He doesn't answer immediately, because there is no good answer, then he answers “Too long.”
Dadan clicks her tongue “Yeah.”
His eyes stay on the house “I checked every place I thought she could go.”
“Apparently you're still an idiot.”
For the first time since he arrived, Sabo lets out a small laugh “Looks like it.”
“You should've checked here first.”
“Yeah.” he smiles sadly “I should have.”
The door opens and both of them turn.
You step outside slowly and Dadan immediately moves toward you “You don't have to talk to him.”
You give her a small smile “It's okay.”
“It's not okay.”
“I know.”
Your eyes move to Sabo. The face you spent two years trying not to miss… but it was impossible, for different reasons.
He looks older and more tired.
His eyes meet yours and quietly he greets you “Hi.”
Such a small word and yet, somehow, it hurts more than anger would.
You almost laugh or cry but you simply say “Hi, Sabo.”
Dadan looks between the two of you and groans very loudly “I’m too old for this mess.”
You step closer and Sabo doesn't move.
He probably thinks you'll yell or that you'll hit him. Maybe he thinks you'll tell him to leave.
Instead, your fingers wrap around his wrist “Come with me.”
He follows immediately as you lead him away from the house and into the forest nearby.
You finally stop walking, but you don't let go of his wrist.
After an infinite while, you finally let go of his wrist.
The loss of your touch is immediate for Sabo.
His eyes fall to his hand… because he noticed way too fast that you grabbed his wrist and not his hand.
Not the way you used to.
Not like the countless times you dragged him through markets, through forests, through crowded towns.
Back then your fingers would slip between his without thinking.
Now it was just a careful choice from you.
His chest hurts more than he expects for that.
“I'm sorry you had to find out this way...”
Sabo looks up immediately, but you aren't looking at him.
Your eyes stay fixed on the ground but then, finally, you look at him, and the tears in your eyes make something inside him twist painfully.
Before he can say anything, you continue.
“I'll introduce him to you, step by step...”
Sabo freezes.
“It's a big change, it needs time.”
Your fingers tighten around your sleeves “I know you won't run...” the pause lasts less than a second “...from him.”
Sabo stops breathing, because he understands exactly what you mean.
You trust him not to run from your son, unlike when he ran from you.
His throat feels tight “I didn't—”
But you keep going again, before he can answer “I waited months for you before coming here...”
His words die immediately.
“Months.” your laugh is small and broken “I kept telling myself you were busy.”
You wipe at your eyes quickly and angrily “That your mission took longer.”
Another shaky breath “That maybe your Den Den Mushi broke.”
Sabo lowers his eyes.
You smile… a sad smile “I was very creative with the excuses.”
His chest aches.
“Then I came here. I tried so hard not to think about you after that.” your voice cracks “Really hard.”
The tears finally spill over “But it was impossible.”
Sabo takes a step forward but he stops himself immediately.
You don't seem to notice, you don't look at him anymore.
“You saw him...”
His eyes soften instantly, he thinks of the little boy, your son.
His son.
“He looks just like you.” your voice breaks completely this time “It's not fair.”
You squat down suddenly and then you lower yourself to the ground.
Your arms wrap around your knees.
Your face disappears against them.
Sabo freezes, because he knows this exact position. You always did this after arguments, after nightmares, after bad days, or whenever sadness became too big.
You curled into yourself and hid your face.
He remembers sitting beside you years ago. Never forcing you to speak first.
His chest tightens painfully, because now he’s the reason.
Not some stranger and not some bad day.
Him.
Your shoulders shake slightly “Every time he smiles… Every time he laughs… Every time he tilts his head when he's confused...”
Sabo feels his heart sink lower with every word.
“It's you.”
The wind moves through the trees above you.
“I loved you so much, Sabo.”
Past tense.
The word hits harder than any punch he's ever taken.
“And he looks so much like the person who broke my heart.”
Silence.
Heavy and painful.
Then finally Sabo moves, slowly and carefully.
He lowers himself onto the ground beside you, without touching you, because he doesn't think he has earned that.
For a long moment he simply sits there, just like he used to, just like years ago.
Then quietly “I know.”
His voice is rough “I know I don't deserve forgiveness.”
You don't move.
“And I know saying sorry won't fix two years.”
Nothing.
Sabo stares at the dirt beneath his boots “But if you'll let me...”
His fingers curl against his knees “I want to know him.”
His voice grows quieter and softer “I want to know everything.”
His eyes move toward you, toward the girl he left behind and toward the woman he found again.
“His favorite food.”
A small smile appears, even if sad and fragile.
“His favorite game.”
Another pause.
“What makes him laugh.”
His throat tightens.
“What scares him.”
His next words are barely above a whisper.
“I want to know every single thing I missed.”
For the first time since sitting down, your shoulders stop shaking, and slowly, your breathing evens out.
The silence between you isn't uncomfortable anymore.
You slowly lift your head from your knees.
For a moment, neither of you says anything, you simply look at each other.
Seconds pass, maybe minutes.
For a moment there is only you for Sabo. The girl he laughed with. The girl he dreamed about. The girl he left behind.
The woman he somehow still loves just as much as he did years ago.
Maybe even more.
The words leave his mouth before he can stop them, before he can think and before he can wonder if he still has the right to say them.
“I love you so much, Y/N...”
Your eyes widen slightly and that makes you break eye contact.
Your gaze falls to the ground between you and Sabo immediately regrets it “Sorry.”
He runs a hand through his hair “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
He stops.
But he finally understands that he’s done stopping and running from difficult things.
“No, actually...” he takes a shaky breath “I’m not sorry for loving you.”
Your fingers tighten slightly around your knees.
“But I am sorry for everything else.”
His voice becomes quieter.
“I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I thought staying away was protecting you.”
His eyes lower.
“I’m sorry I convinced myself that if I stayed with the Revolutionaries and kept danger away from you, that somehow made everything okay.”
The guilt in his voice is impossible to hide now.
“It didn’t.”
Silence.
“I missed your hardest moments because of it.”
His throat tightens.
“I wasn’t there when you needed me… I wasn’t there for him.”
His voice almost breaks on the last word.
“I wasn’t there for either of you.”
For a long moment, you say nothing.
Then finally you admit “I never thought that you, out of everyone, would leave me.”
Sabo looks up immediately.
Your eyes stay on the ground “After everything you went through as a kid… After losing your family here.”
Another pause.
“After Ace.”
His chest tightens painfully at the name.
“After all that...”
Your fingers grip your sleeves.
“I thought you would understand what being left behind feels like.”
The words aren't cruel and that somehow makes them hurt more.
“Maybe that's why it hurt more than I expected.”
Sabo opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Because what can he say to that?
You're right.
“Yeah...” you let out a small breath “Our son has the face of the man who broke my heart.”
Sabo closes his eyes briefly, but then you continue “But he was made out of love.”
His eyes open immediately.
You finally look at him again. There are still tears in your eyes, but there is warmth there too.
“And that little face...” a tiny smile appears “It looks just like the face of the man I loved.”
Sabo's breath catches.
Your smile grows just a little “The man I still love.”
His heart stumbles.
“The man I'll probably always love.”
For a moment he simply stares at you, unable to speak or to breathe.
Finally he calls your name “Y/N...”
You smile softly at him “I just need time, Sabo.”
He nods immediately, but you continue “I love you.”
His eyes widen.
“But I need time.”
This time Sabo answers immediately, as if he's afraid you'll change your mind “I'll give you all the time you need, Y/N.”
There isn't even a second of hesitation.
“I'm not leaving again.” his voice is firm and certain “I regret that with all my heart.”
He shakes his head “I won't make the same mistake twice.”
A small laugh escapes him “Honestly, I'm lucky you're even talking to me right now.”
That makes you laugh a bit, probably the first one he's heard from you in years.
You smile at him and for the first time since arriving at Dadan's house Sabo smiles back.
Then suddenly, you move forward and wrap your arms around him.
Sabo freezes for exactly half a second before his arms are around you too, almost instinctively. Like they've been waiting years to do this again.
He holds you carefully.
His face presses lightly against your hair.
Your arms tighten around him.
The last two years disappear at that moment… not forgiven and not forgotten, but love survived them. Bruised and changed, but still alive.
And as Sabo closes his eyes, holding you against him for the first time in years, only one thought remains in his mind.
This time he's staying.
The walk back to Dadan's house is quiet, but not awkward.
When the house finally comes into view, voices reach you before the door does.
“Get back here!”
“Oi! Stop running!”
“He's heading for the door again!”
“I got him— NO I DON'T!”
You stop and Sabo blinks.
“...What is happening?”
You smile immediately “Sounds about right.”
The moment you open the door, chaos greets you.
Magra is trying to block the doorway.
Dogra is kneeling on the floor with both arms spread like he's trying to catch a wild animal.
Dadan stands nearby looking seconds away from giving up on life entirely.
And in the middle of it all, your son… tiny but determined and very angry.
The little boy pushes against Magra's legs.
“Mama!”
Magra sighs dramatically “Kid, your mama has been gone for like ten minutes!”
“Mama!”
“We're not keeping her hostage!”
The little boy points furiously toward the door “Mama!”
Then he rushes toward you with all the speed his tiny legs can manage, which isn't much, but the determination is impressive.
You barely have time to crouch before he reaches you and his tiny arms wrap around your legs.
Then his eyes move upward, toward Sabo and the little boy immediately narrows his eyes.
The child steps in front of you, his tiny arms spread wide, protective and serious.
He faces Sabo directly.
“Me...” a tiny finger points toward his own chest “Mama's hero!”
The room falls silent, Then you burst into laughter, real and so bright that Sabo thinks it may be his favorite sound in the world.
You quickly pick up your son and he immediately starts squirming, trying to escape, clearly because his important hero duties aren’t finished.
“Wait! Hero work!” he protests in toddler language and gestures.
You laugh harder “I know, I know.”
He points accusingly toward Sabo, still suspicious.
You look toward Sabo with tears of laughter in your eyes “He loves superheroes.”
You adjust the little boy on your hip “So I always call him my hero.”
The little boy nods proudly of this title.
“Now he threatens every man that gets close to me.”
Dogra snorts “Last week he tried to fight a mailman.”
“To be fair,” Magra says, “the mailman looked suspicious.”
“He was delivering letters!”
“Exactly what a suspicious person would do.”
Dadan smacks Magra's head.
The little boy finally calms down at the sound of your laughter and his little arms wrap around your neck instead.
The dangerous man has apparently been temporarily tolerated.
Sabo watches the two of you quietly, then softly “You two are so cute...”
The words leave before he can stop them.
His eyes stay on the kid… the same eyes.
The same hair but with your colour.
The same little tilt of his head.
The regret of missing all these things settles heavier in his chest.
You notice, so instead of letting him drown in it, you smile a wider smile this time.
Then you look at your son “Hey, hero?”
The little boy looks up immediately “Hmm?”
You point toward Sabo “This is Sabo.”
Your son's suspicious expression immediately returns and you almost laugh again “He's not one of the bad men.”
The little boy thinks about this very seriously and veryyy carefully, before pointing at Sabo “Not bad?”
“Not bad.” you smile softly “He was my hero before you arrived.”
Sabo freezes.
Then you finally say it… “He's your dad.”
Silence.
Sabo is pretty sure his heart stops.
Your son looks at Sabo, then at you as if looking for a confirmation, you nod and then he looks back at Sabo.
Meanwhile Sabo looks almost more shocked than the child.
“Dad?”
The little boy tests the word carefully, as if trying to understand it.
You smile “Yeah.”
You gently brush some hair away from his forehead “Do you want to say hi to him?”
Suddenly your brave little hero becomes shy and he hides part of his face against your shoulder.
Sabo's heart somehow melts and breaks at the same time.
You slowly step closer, until your son is standing between both of you.
Sabo tries his best to not look too intimidating and gives him the softest smile you've ever seen, then he waves.
The little boy stares for a moment, then a tiny hand appears, waving back.
Sabo smiles wider, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes.
His attention slowly returns to you and for a moment neither of you says anything, then his hand lifts slowly, giving you enough time to move away if you want to.
You don't, and his fingers brush softly against your cheek in a gentle caress.
You lean into it slightly before you can stop yourself and your smile softens.
Across the room Dadan snorts, loudly “Amazing.”
Nobody answers and that doesn't stop her “Guy disappears for years and still gets the girl and the kid.”
Magra immediately nods “Honestly, that's a crazy level of luck.”
“Should buy a lottery ticket.” Dogra agrees.
Dadan crosses her arms “Should buy some brain cells while he's at it.”
Sabo lets out a quiet breath but says nothing, because she's right and she has every right to say it.
Instead, his eyes move back to you, to your smile and to the little boy still holding onto your neck.
To the family he almost lost before he even realized he had one… and silently, Sabo promises himself he won't waste this second chance.
Months later.
You sit on the grass beneath the shade of a large tree, when a familiar laugh reaches your ears.
Your smile appears before you even turn to look.
Sabo stands a few meters away with your son sitting proudly in his arms.
Half sitting and half climbing him.
The little cape flowing behind him certainly isn't helping.
“And then Ace got angry because I caught more fish than him.”
Your son's eyes become huge “Dad won?”
Sabo grins “Of course I won.”
“Liar!”
Sabo gasps dramatically “Excuse me?”
The little boy points accusingly at him “Mama says heroes don't lie!”
Sabo looks toward you immediately “You're ruining my reputation.”
You laugh “Good.”
Your son giggles proudly.
Sabo sighs dramatically “Fine. Maybe Ace caught one more fish than me.”
“Ha!”
“But I climbed trees faster.”
“And Uncle Ace?”
“Faster than me.”
“And Uncle Luffy?”
Sabo laughs “Luffy fell out of the tree.”
The little boy laughs loudly.
Sabo smiles at him before continuing “And then there was your mama.”
Your son immediately looks toward you, interested “Mama climbed?”
“Mama climbed higher than all of us.”
Your son looks shocked.
You laugh “He's lying.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“More stories.”
Sabo smiles softly “Alright. Come on, hero. I'll show you where your mom used to hide from us when she was angry.”
You gasp “Traitor.”
“Historical accuracy is important.”
The little boy immediately points forward “Adventure!”
“Adventure!”
The two disappear further into the forest.
And for a while, you stay where you are, sitting quietly in the grass, thinking about the last few years, about heartbreak, about waiting and about forgiveness.
Life isn't perfect, but it's good.
Then “Mama!”
You look up immediately. Your little hero runs toward you with all the speed his tiny legs can manage.
He almost trips but recovers.
A tiny hand is stretched forward, holding something tightly.
His smile is huge and bright.
Behind him, Sabo walks toward you with a smile of his own.
Your son finally reaches you, breathing hard but proud of himself.
He holds out his hand and shows you a beautiful little flower “For mama!”
Your smile softens immediately and you take it carefully “Thank you, hero.”
He beams.
You turn the flower slowly between your fingers and then you smile.
“You know?”
Your son tilts his head.
“Your dad used to bring me flowers all the time when we were little.”
Sabo laughs quietly behind him.
You look toward your son as if telling him a secret “He always said I was as beautiful as the flowers.”
Your son couldn't possibly care less, instead “Look what dad gave me!”
He proudly shows off his little cape “I'm real hero now!”
You laugh softly “You are.”
He immediately starts running around you with the cape flying behind him dramatically.
Sabo sits beside you on the grass, then he smiles.
He opens his hand and several flowers rest in his palm.
Your eyes widen slightly.
Sabo shrugs “Little me was wrong back then.”
You raise an eyebrow “Oh?”
He smiles softly “You're more beautiful than flowers.”
You laugh immediately, his favorite sound.
Without warning, your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him down with you.
Suddenly both of you are laying on the grass.
Sabo laughs softly.
When you open your eyes again you notice how close he is.
His eyes move between yours and your lips.
Slowly you lean closer and kiss him.
Sabo freezes for a second… because since he came back, there were hugs, smiles and small touches but never this.
Then his hand finds your cheek and he kisses you back.
There's no rush, only love… years of love.
“WAAAAAH!”
Both of you jump apart immediately as reality returns with incredible speed.
Your son sits on the ground a few meters away, looking deeply offended by gravity.
You laugh softly and start getting up, but Sabo gently catches your wrist “I've got this.”
You sit back down, watching Sabo kneel beside your son “Where does it hurt, hero?”
A tiny finger points dramatically toward his forehead.
Sabo inspects the damage seriously.
Then he says “Hey.”
The little boy sniffles.
“It's just a small cut.” Sabo points toward his own scar “Look.”
Your son blinks.
“We're matching now.”
Silence.
Then your son's eyes become huge “Matching?”
“Matching.”
Immediately the tears disappear and your son nods proudly.
Sabo looks toward you and gives you a thumbs up.
You laugh softly and then silently mouth the words "I love you."
Sabo freezes completely.
Your son chooses that exact moment to stand up and unfortunately, he uses Sabo for support.
Sabo loses the battle immediately and falls backwards onto the grass.
“Dad fell!”
Your son points at him triumphantly and you burst into laughter.
Sabo stares at you from the ground, at your smile and at your happiness.
Heyooo!! I hope you are doing good! :> I hope it is also alright to send a second one if not just ignore it ^^
Okay so can i request a lil angsty fluff scenario in a what if the ASL Brothers meet their lover, who they sadly needed to leave behind to protect her, at Dadan's place with a child, that is old as their last meeting (1-2 years or more without any contact) situation.
Since they got left behind from the boys, she seeked out a place who would maybe accept her and it was Dadan, who took her in, who is also probably angry at them for leaving their s/o without any explanation.
I hope the request makes sense 🙂↕️
The Love He Left
portgas d. ace x fem!reader
tags: angst with fluff, post-marineford, ace lives, reunion after years, secret child, slow burn, hurt/comfort
a/n: sorry for the wait! I tried to make them all different, hope you'll like them all. tumblr doesn't let us use more than 1k blocks per post so I have to post them separately T.T I'm going to post them one per day starting today!
The first thing Ace notices when he comes back to Mt. Colubo is how little has changed.
The trees are still too big, the road is still annoying and the forest still feels like home.
He walks up the familiar path with a grin on his face, hands behind his head “Wonder what old hag Dadan is doing now.”
When he reaches the hideout, loud shouting immediately answers his question.
Nothing changed at all.
Ace laughs “Yep. Definitely home.”
He pushes the door open “I'm back!”
The room goes silent… Dadan freezes, Dogra almost drops his cup and Magra stares.
For one second nobody moves, then Dadan punches him so hard he flies into a wall.
“YOU STUPID BRAT!”
“GAH!” Ace crashes into a table “WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!”
Dadan's eyes are red “FOR MAKING US THINK YOU WERE ABOUT TO DIE!”
“Sorry…”
“DON'T APOLOGIZE!”
“Then what do you want me to say?!”
“Shut up!”
“Okay!”
“NOT THAT EITHER!”
Ace laughs despite himself.
For the first time in months, everything feels normal.
Marineford still follows him. The fear in Luffy's face. Whitebeard. Everything he lost. Everything he almost lost.
But right now? Right now he's home.
A few hours later, the shouting has turned into drinking.
Ace sits at the table with a plate full of food.
Dadan watches him, still angry, still relieved and still pretending not to care.
“Eat slower.” she grumbles.
“I’m eating slowly.”
“You swallowed half the plate.”
“That’s slow.”
“Idiot.”
Ace grins, then he glances around and his smile slowly fades “Hey.”
Dadan immediately looks away. That’s suspicious.
“Where is she?”
“Who?”
“You know who.”
“Don't.”
“Dadan.”
She takes a drink “None of your business.”
Ace blinks “None of my—”
“Eat your food.”
“Dadan.”
“Eat.”
“Where is she? I know her well enough to know she came here.”
“You know nothing about her. Just eat.”
Dogra suddenly becomes very interested in the wall, while Magra coughs.
Nobody answers.
Ace slowly puts his fork down “...Why is everyone acting weird?”
“Not weird.”
“You are.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Dadan stands “Anyway! It's getting late!”
“It's the middle of the afternoon.”
“Very late!”
Ace narrows his eyes “Dadan.”
“Maybe you should leave tomorrow.”
“Leave?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“No reason. You're a pirate, you're probably busy.”
Now Ace knows something is wrong, because Dadan never wants him to leave, not after two years and not after believing he was dead or about to die.
He stands “Where is she?”
“None of your business.”
“Dadan.”
“Forget it.”
“No.”
“Kid.”
“You obviously know, tell me.”
Dadan's jaw tightens and for a second she almost looks guilty “Some things are better left alone.”
Ace freezes, his chest suddenly feels strange and heavy.
Two years ago. A face appears in his mind immediately. Your smile. Your laugh. The way you looked at him.
The way he had left before sunrise because he knew if he saw your face again, he would never go.
The way he told himself it was for your safety.
The way it hurt every day afterward.
“...she's here, isn't she?”
Nobody answers and that answers enough.
Ace turns toward the door.
Dadan immediately steps in front of him “Don't.”
His eyes widen “Why?”
“Just don't.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“That's not an answer.”
Dadan looks frustrated “Damn it.”
“Dadan.”
“Don't go looking.”
“Why?”
“Because you'll only make things worse.”
The words hit him harder than any punch.
“...What does that mean?”
Nobody answers.
Ace slowly walks around her “I'm going.”
“ACE!”
But he's already outside.
The village is quiet and the afternoon sun shines through the trees.
Ace walks familiar roads.
Some villagers recognize him immediately. Others stare like they have seen a ghost.
After all, the whole world watched him almost die.
Including you.
His stomach twists.
He wonders if you cried. He wonders if you hated him. He wonders if you moved on.
The thought hurts more than he wants to admit.
“...Guess I deserve that.”
Two years. A lot can happen in two years.
People change. Feelings change. Lives move on.
His feet slow.
What if you don't want to see him?
Then he spots someone and all his thoughts just disappear.
You.
Walking down the path. Alive, healthy and beautiful.
His heart stops.
As soon as you see him, you freeze too.
For a moment neither of you moves.
Ace can only stare.
You look exactly how he remembers, and yet completely different. Older and sadder but stronger.
Your eyes widen.
His lips part “...Y/N.”
Your face changes in shock, relief, disbelief and pain, all at once.
He takes a step forward “It's really you.”
Your eyes shine, and for one impossible second, Ace thinks you might run into his arms.
Instead your expression hardens, like a door slamming shut.
The warmth disappears.
Ace's chest drops “Y/N?”
You don't answer, your hands tighten, and only then does Ace notice the small child standing beside you.
A tiny hand holding yours.
The child hides partly behind your leg.
Ace glances at them briefly.
A cute kid, maybe three years old or something close to that.
He doesn't think much about it, his attention is completely on you.
“Y/N, I—”
You walk right past him.
Ace stands there, stunned.
The child looks up at him while passing, with his curious big dark eyes.
Ace turns immediately “Wait!”
You keep walking.
“Y/N!”
Nothing.
“Come on!”
Still nothing.
Ace groans “Okay, yeah, I deserve that.”
You continue forward “...But could you at least yell at me?”
Nothing.
“Throw something?”
Silence.
“Punch me?”
You finally stop.
Ace almost sighs in relief.
You slowly turn around, your eyes are shining again, but this time with obvious anger.
“Punch you?”
Ace scratches his cheek “Maybe not?”
“After two years?”
“...Fair.”
“After disappearing?”
“Yeah.”
“After not having contact for two whole years?”
“Okay, that one sounds bad.”
“Because it was bad!”
“There were reasons!”
“Really?”
Your voice cracks, and suddenly the anger doesn't sound angry anymore.
It sounds hurt.
Ace immediately feels worse “Y/N...”
“Do you know how… seeing that felt?”
His chest tightens “...Marineford.”
“Marineford.” you laugh sarcastically “I watched it.”
Ace freezes.
“I saw everything from here.”
His throat goes dry “Y/N…”
“I watched you die… they made it look like the heroes who killed the bad villain.”
The words hit harder than anything.
“I saw it happen…” your voice shakes “and I couldn't do anything.”
Ace can't move, can't speak and can't breathe.
“I just sat here and watched.” your eyes fill with tears “Everyone said you were dead. Then suddenly months later… MONTHS LATER the news says you're alive.”
A tear slips down your cheek “I was happy.”
Another follows “So happy. But do you know how angry I was?”
Ace swallows “...Yeah.”
“No, you don't.”
And somehow that hurts because it's true.
You wipe your eyes angrily “I hated you.”
Ace flinches, then you look away “...For about five minutes.”
His heart nearly breaks “Y/N...”
The child beside you tugs gently on your sleeve “Mom?”
The world stops.
Ace blinks.
Mom?
You immediately kneel and your expression softens “Don't worry, I'm okay.”
The child points toward Ace “Who is he?”
You freeze.
The child waits patiently, looking between both of you.
And somehow, for the first time, Ace notices something familiar about him.
The eyes, the hair, the smile… the freckles. But before he can think about it more, you stand “Let's go home.”
The child nods “Okay.”
You start walking again and Ace follows automatically, but you don't tell him to stop.
—-----------
The walk back is painfully quiet.
Ace follows a few steps behind you.
Your son occasionally looks back at him, curious and interested.
Not scared at all.
Every time, Ace awkwardly waves. The child waves back and then keeps walking.
The whole thing would almost be funny if your heart wasn't beating so hard.
Soon the familiar house comes into view.
The moment Dadan spots you, she practically bursts through the door “Y/N!”
You blink “Dadan?”
She rushes over, looking panicked “Listen, kid, we gotta—”
Then her eyes move past you and land on Ace.
Dadan freezes.
Ace awkwardly raises a hand “Uh... hi again?”
The woman looks like she wants to throw herself off a cliff “Oh for the love of—”
You immediately understand “Dadan.”
“I wasn’t gonna say anything!”
“You absolutely were.”
“I WASN’T!”
“You were.”
“I WASN’T!”
Ace points between both of you “Should I be worried?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
You and Dadan answer at the same time.
Ace blinks “That didn’t help.”
Dadan groans “So stupid.”
“Hey!”
“Inside.”
Nobody argues.
A few minutes later, everyone is sitting around the old table.
Your son escaped immediately as Dogra and Magra took him outside to play.
Which leaves only you, Dadan and Ace.
The silence is horrible.
Ace shifts in his chair.
You stare at the table.
Dadan pretends she isn’t here.
A fly buzzes somewhere.
Nobody speaks… the fly is honestly carrying the conversation.
Finally Ace clears his throat “So…”
Silence.
“Nice weather?”
You look at him.
Dadan looks at him.
Ace immediately regrets everything “...That was stupid.”
“Very.”
“Yeah.”
Silence again.
A few seconds pass then he says “You look good.”
You blink.
Ace scratches the back of his neck “I mean… not that you didn’t before.”
Dadan snorts.
“Okay, somehow I’m making this worse.”
“You’re talented.”
“Thanks.”
“You weren't supposed to take that as a compliment.”
“Too late.”
A tiny smile almost appears on your face and Ace notices.
His chest hurts, because for a second it feels like old times, but then the silence returns.
Until Ace finally sighs “Can I ask something?”
You shrug “You’re going to anyway.”
“Fair.” he pauses “The kid…”
Immediately your shoulders tense.
Dadan's eyes narrow.
Ace notices neither “How old is he?”
You blink.
That wasn't what you expected but you answer anyway “...Almost three.”
Ace nods “Oh.”
Silence.
Then… “He's cute.”
“...Thanks…?”
“Looks a lot like you.”
Dadan suddenly coughs so hard she nearly dies.
Ace looks over “You okay?”
“No.”
“Need water?”
“No.”
“You sound like you’re dying.”
“Working on it.”
Ace shrugs and then he looks back at you “So…”
You already hate where this is going.
“Did you adopt him?”
The room goes completely silent.
You stare.
Dadan stares.
Ace waits.
You ask, confused “...What?”
“You adopted him?”
“...Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know…”
“You just guessed?”
“Yeah. By Dadan’s reaction to me saying he looks like you.”
Dadan drags a hand down her face “He’s hopeless.”
“Hey!”
“No, she’s right.”
“Y/N!”
You almost laugh.
Ace points accusingly “You’re both being mean.”
“You’re making it easy.”
“Wow.”
He pouts, like a child… like the same idiot you knew years ago.
Then his expression softens “So... not adopted?”
“No.”
“Oh.” a pause “Then his father is here?”
You choke.
Dadan slams her forehead against the table so hard that Ace jumps “WHAT NOW?”
“Nothing.”
“You just headbutted a table!”
“Deserved.”
“For what?!”
“For knowing you.”
Ace looks deeply offended, then his attention goes back on you.
You stare.
Nobody answers.
“...So?”
You blink slowly “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Yeah?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes?”
Dadan makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like suffering.
Ace glances at her “Why are you both acting so weird?”
Neither of you answer.
Ace frowns and then he starts thinking. You can practically see the gears turning.
“Okay.” he points toward the door “The kid is almost three.”
“...Yes.”
“I’ve been gone…” his voice trails off and his brow furrows “...three years.”
Your stomach drops.
Dadan closes her eyes.
Here it comes.
Finally.
Ace keeps talking, mostly to himself now.
“Almost exactly three years.”
Silence.
“And he isn't adopted.”
Silence.
“And everybody keeps acting weird.”
Silence.
“And Dadan wanted me gone before I saw you and him.”
Silence.
His eyes slowly move toward you, then toward the door and then back toward you.
The smile is gone, the joking is gone, the idiot is gone.
For the first time since he arrived… Ace is completely serious.
“...Y/N.”
Your heart pounds.
“How old is he exactly?”
You swallow “...two years and seven months.”
The answer comes out barely above a whisper.
Ace freezes.
The math is easy.
Gone for three years.
His face loses all color “No…” the word leaves his mouth before he can stop it.
Your eyes immediately drop to the table. Shame twists painfully in your chest.
You hate it, because you shouldn’t feel ashamed and you know that… but suddenly you do.
Maybe because of how shocked he looks, maybe because you never planned for this conversation, maybe because part of you is terrified he won’t want this. Terrified he’ll regret it. Terrified he’ll look at your son and see a mistake.
You grip your hands under the table “...I didn’t know.”
Ace doesn’t move.
“I found out after you left.”
Silence.
“I couldn’t tell you.”
Silence.
“Then…” your voice cracks and you look away “I didn’t even know where you were until you made it to the news and then… then everyone thought you were dead.”
The room becomes even quieter.
Dadan watches both of you carefully, ready to step in if needed… or out.
Ace is staring at the table, at nothing and at everything. Trying to fit this reality inside his head.
A child.
Your child.
His child.
The little boy outside, the one who waved at him earlier, the one with dark eyes, the one who smiled, the one who… suddenly Ace stands.
His chair crashes backward, making you flinch.
Dadan immediately rises “Ace.”
But he doesn’t seem to hear her.
“...That's my son.”
Nobody answers… nobody needs to.
Because the answer has been sitting in front of him this whole time.
And for the first time since you met him again… you realize he isn't looking at you anymore.
He's looking toward the little boy laughing outside.
As if the entire world has just changed, and maybe it has.
Because for two years, Ace believed he had left behind one person he loved.
Now he’s discovering he left behind two.
The door slams open and then he’s outside.
You stare after him and your heart immediately drops.
For one horrible second, fear grips your chest. Fear that he’s running away, that he’s leaving.
Again.
You push the thought away and rush after him “Ace!”
You reach the doorway just as Dadan catches your wrist.
You turn.
She’s watching the yard, watching Ace, and for once, she doesn’t look angry, she looks sad.
“He ain't running.”
Your brows furrow “How do you know?”
Dadan sighs “Because I know that idiot.”
Then she lets you go and says “Go.”
Dogra and Magra are playing with your son.
The little boy sits proudly on Dogra's shoulders while Magra runs around roaring like a monster “THE GREAT BEAST IS COMING!”
“NOOOO!”
Your son laughs so hard he almost falls off Dogra's shoulders.
“FASTER!”
“I'M TRYING!” Dogra complains.
Then your son notices Ace and the laughter slowly fades.
The boy tilts his head, watching him.
Ace stands completely still, staring.
Looking at him for the first time.
His son.
The words still don't feel real.
Your son waves with a tiny happy wave, the same one he gave Ace earlier.
Ace's face immediately crumples.
Your heart squeezes painfully, because now you understand this isn't rejection or anger… this is grief.
The little boy slides down from Dogra's shoulders and walks over, stopping right in front of Ace, looking up.
Ace looks down.
The resemblance is impossible to miss now.
Your son points at the red beads around Ace's neck “Pretty.”
A broken laugh escapes Ace, almost immediately followed by a sob “You think so?”
“Yeah.” the little boy nods confidently “Very pretty.”
Ace presses a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shake.
And suddenly every single thing crashes into him all at once.
Not just the fact that he has a son, not just the fact that he missed three years.
Everything.
He looks at the little boy, at the child standing in front of him, and his mind starts filling the empty spaces.
The spaces where he should have been.
He sees you standing alone.
Without him.
He sees you crying.
Without him.
Laughing.
Without him.
Getting sick in the mornings.
Without him.
Craving strange food.
Without him.
Growing bigger every month.
Without him.
His chest hurts.
He never saw your belly.
Never saw his son growing inside you.
Never placed a hand there.
Never felt the kicks.
Never talked to him through your skin.
Never watched you smile when the baby moved.
Never watched you complain when the baby kicked your ribs.
Never helped you tie your shoes.
Never carried things for you.
Never stayed awake when you couldn't sleep.
Never comforted you when you were scared.
Never promised you that everything would be okay.
Because he wasn't there.
Your son smiles at him with his tiny innocent smile.
Ace feels something break.
He missed the birth.
His son's first breath.
His first cry.
His first smile.
His first laugh.
His first word.
His first steps.
His first birthday.
Everything.
His knees almost give out.
“Ace?” your voice sounds distant, he can barely hear it.
Because suddenly another image appears in his head.
Marineford.
The crowd.
The execution platform.
The world watching.
The world cheering for his death.
The newspapers.
The broadcasts.
The fear.
And then… you watching, alone.
You believing he was gone forever.
Ace's breathing becomes shaky.
His mother suddenly comes to mind. The woman who carried him alone. The woman who suffered alone. The woman who watched the whole world hunt her child before he was even born. The woman who endured everything by herself.
And suddenly he understands that he left you carrying a burden alone.
He finally understands that while he had convinced himself he was protecting you, you had been surviving without him.
Just like his mother did.
The realization hits him so hard that he physically stumbles.
“Ace!”
You rush forward, but before you can reach him, he drops to his knees.
The yard goes silent. Everyone freezes, while your son blinks in confusion.
You stop moving “Ace...?”
His head lowers and his hands shake.
You have never seen him like this.
Tears hit the dirt beneath him.
“I’m sorry.” the words come out broken, barely audible.
“Ace...”
“I’m sorry.” his voice cracks “I’m so sorry.”
Your eyes widen.
Ace lifts his head and the view nearly destroys you.
“I missed everything.”
You immediately shake your head “Ace…”
“I missed everything.” his voice rises with desperation “His birth.”
Another tear falls “His first words.”
Another “His first steps.”
Another “His birthdays.”
A horrible broken laugh “I wasn't there.”
Your throat tightens.
“You were alone.”
“Ace…”
“I left you alone.” his voice breaks again “I wasn't there.”
Your eyes burn.
“You were pregnant and I wasn't there.”
You can't answer.
“You were scared and I wasn't there.”
Ace wipes his face, only for more tears to replace them “I should've been there.”
The guilt is eating him alive.
You can see and feel it.
“I should've been helping you.” his shoulders shake “I should've been holding you.”
Your vision blurs.
“I should've been holding him.”
The little boy quietly walks closer, confused, but sensing something is wrong.
Ace notices him, and that only makes him cry harder “I wasn't there.”
Then Ace lowers his head and the next words nearly stop your heart “Can you forgive me?”
You freeze.
Ace's voice becomes smaller and more fragile “Please.”
The yard is completely silent.
“I know I don't deserve it… I know I hurt you.” his hands clench “I know I left.”
You feel tears running down your own face now.
“But please...”
Ace looks at you, like someone terrified of the answer… “Please forgive me.”
His voice cracks completely “Please.”
And suddenly all you can see is the boy you fell in love with.
Your Ace.
Broken, crying and begging, because he thinks he lost everything… and he still doesn't realize that despite all the hurt… despite all the anger… despite the years apart...
You've never stopped loving him.
Not for a single day.
You want to say something, anything, but before you even can, a tiny hand grabs yours.
You look down and see your son is standing beside you.
Looking from you to Ace.
“Mom?”
Your expression softens immediately and you squeeze his little hand “Yes?”
He points toward Ace, toward the crying man kneeling in front of you “Can't you forgive him?”
Your heart almost breaks, because there is no judgment in his voice, only innocent confusion.
As if forgiveness is the easiest thing in the world.
As if love is simple.
You smile at him, then you lift your eyes.
Ace is looking at you and here your smile slowly disappears, a sad expression replaces it.
You look into his eyes and say “No…”
Ace freezes, his shoulders tense.
Regret fills his expression so quickly that your heart hurts, so you hurry to continue “There's no need.”
Ace blinks “What?”
You smile sadly “As I said this afternoon...”
Your fingers tighten slightly around your son's hand “I hated you for like five minutes.”
A tiny laugh escapes Ace, wet and shaky.
You let go of your son's hand, then slowly kneel in front of Ace, bringing yourself to his level.
His eyes widen slightly.
You gently take his face in your hands and your thumbs brush against his cheeks, ceaning away his tears.
Another one falls immediately and you wipe that one away too, very softly.
Ace leans into your touch without even realizing it.
“I understand your situation, Ace.”
His eyes immediately lower.
You gently guide his face back toward you “Look at me.”
Slowly, he does.
Your thumbs brush against his skin again “I loved you a lot.”
Ace's breathing stops.
“And I will never stop loving you.”
His eyes widen “Y-Y/N...”
“I'm so happy you're here now.” your own voice starts shaking “Sorry if I got mad or if I acted cold.”
Ace immediately shakes his head, hard “Don't apologize.”
You blink “Ace…”
“No.” his voice is firm despite the tears “You don't get to apologize for that.”
You stare at him.
“I left.” his hand gently covers one of yours “You had every right to be angry.”
Another tear slips down his cheek “You had every right to hate me.”
You smile softly “Good thing I didn't then.”
Ace laughs weakly.
You continue softly “I was scared too.”
His expression immediately changes… it softens.
“I thought our story ended there.”
Without thinking, he reaches for you, his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly “I'm here.”
His voice shakes “I'm here.”
You hold him just as tightly “I know.”
For a while neither of you moves or speaks.
Finally you pull back slightly and see your son is still standing there, watching everything carefully and curiously.
You smile, then gently place a hand on his shoulder “Kael...” (random name from google lmao sorry)
The little boy looks up immediately “Yeah?”
You smile softly, full of love , full of pride and warmth.
“This is Ace.” you glance toward him, then back to your son “Your dad.”
Kael blinks, then he looks at Ace.
Ace looks terrified, absolutely terrified… you almost laugh.
Then you turn toward Ace and your smile becomes softer, filled with so much love it almost hurts “Ace...”
His eyes meet yours.
“This is Kael.” your fingers gently brush your son's hair “Your son.”
Ace completely breaks again, with fresh tears appearing instantly.
“Hi...” Kael tilts his head “You're my dad?”
Ace nods immediately, quickly “Y-Yeah.”
Kael thinks about this then he says “Cool.”
Ace blinks “Cool?”
“Yeah.” Kael points at his tattoo “You have funny freckles.”
Dogra explodes laughing, while Magra nearly falls over.
Ace stares in horror “They aren’t… freckles…”
“They are… are you stupid?” Kael nods wisely.
Ace turns to you “I HAVE BEEN A FATHER FOR TEN SECONDS AND I'M ALREADY BEING BULLIED.”
“He's definitely yours.” Dadan says from the doorway.
“HEY!”
Kael giggles, then he says “Mom talked to me about you, you’re the very cool fire boy.”
Then, without warning, he steps forward and hugs Ace… small arms around his neck.
Ace completely freezes and his eyes widen.
His arms slowly wrap around him carefully, like he is holding treasure.
“Hi, dad.”
Ace makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob “Hi, kid.”
Ace reaches out for you with one hand and gently pushes you to kneel beside them.
You do so and then you wrap your arms around both of them.
Ace immediately pulls you closer and the three of you stay there, holding each other.
A family… maybe messy and maybe a bit late, but a family anyway.
Ace looks at you, you look at him, and this time, when he leans closer, you meet him halfway.
The kiss is soft, gentle and warm.
When you pull away, Ace rests his forehead against yours, finally smiling.
Then Kael tugs on his sleeve “Dad?”
“...Yeah?”
“Can I sit on your shoulders?”
Ace grins immediately.
The old familiar grin, the dangerous one that means bad decisions are coming “Kid, I can do way cooler than shoulders.”
Your eyes widen “Ace!”
Fire suddenly bursts around him as he shoots into the air with Kael in his arms.
Kael screams in delight “I'M FLYING!”
Ace laughs “THAT'S MY BOY!”
“ACE!”
“HE'S FINE!”
“PUT MY CHILD DOWN!”
“OUR CHILD!”
“PUT OUR CHILD DOWN!”
Dadan lights a cigarette “Yep.”
Everyone laughs.
And Ace… he laughs the loudest out of everyone.
He’s alive, he’s home… exactly where he belongs.
He looks down at you with the softest expression you ever saw on him, making you smile softly back at him.
synopsis: "one of me is cute, but two, though?" you were aware of your husband's ruts, often helping him through them. this time, it seems like he's insatiable. a few extra creampies shouldn't hurt, right?
feat: husband! dante sparda
w.c: 1.5k
cw: breeding, ruts, p in v, creampies, multiple, size difference
day one | masterlist
tag list: @sharkluver
marrying dante was the best idea you ever had. he was a sweet husband, making sure you're comfort was his priority. he was also such a huge flirt, treating every moment with you like a treasure.
you were worried about his line of work, knowing that in a heart beat your husband could be taken from your hands. but he reassured you that he was capable of handling himself - and you knew it, too.
simply because of his job as a devil hunter, the conversation of having kids never came up. he didn't want to bring up such an emotional topic, knowing you already feared for his life (even if it wasn't necessary). having you worry about a kid and whether or not dante would come home at the end of the day wasn't something he wanted.
but he couldn't help but notice how your eyes lingered on mothers whenever the two of you went out, smiling softly at them and their kids. he couldn't like, he wanted children too. he just didn't want to make it feel like he was talking you into it.
it didn't click to him you wanted children. like right now. he picked up on how you looked at all the baby clothes, showing him videos of little kids playing or pointing out places you'd like to take your kid, if you had one. he just thought it was wishful thinking, if he had a different lifestyle where he wouldn't be putting you and your child in harm's way.
knowing this, he tended to keep himself locked away during his ruts. he didn't want to hurt you - another concern of his. if he had a kid, he'd still have ruts. he looses his temper so easily, and lashing out on a child did not sound like a worry he wanted. being a devil had it's downsides. occasionally, he would let you help - a simple hand job or head, never penetration. he couldn't risk it.
normally, he could handle them himself - he didn't want to involve you in such a dangerous instinct of his. he'd just lock himself in the room whenever it got bad, and rub one out. it wasn't enough, it never was enough.
this time, it was different. he couldn't satisfy himself, thoughts of you pulling at the corners of his mind. all he could think of was you, spread out in different positions, dripping with his cum, begging for him to fuck you, give you more. he wanted to see you pregnant with his children, know that he marked you in a way no other man could ever have you.
the more he thought about it, the more his self restraint was gone. that's how dante found himself in living room, watching you binge a tv show and eat a pint of ice cream. you looked comfortable, just sporting an oversized t-shirt of his and a pair of socks, his eyes catching glimpse of the pair of panties under it.
"dante! hi honey, i didn't expect to see you out of the room so early. you feelin' alright, need somethin' to eat?" you start fussing over him, pausing the show to sit up. "wanna come sit down and watch this with me? we can find somethin' else you like, if a romcom isn't interestin' to you."
dante blinks, eyes taking in the sight of you. you looked so good right now, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you here. but he'd take it to the bedroom, wanting to be able to rip as many orgasms as he can from you.
"i want children." the words spill from his lips. you pause, setting down the container of ice cream. blinking, you look up at your husband. you wanted to hear those words forever, but you hadn't expected them. you knew he worried, as did you.
"dante, are you serious?" you hoped this wasn't some sick dream, that dante was hear, asking to give you his children.
"fuck, you think i'd joke about somethin' like this, baby?" his voice grew husky, cock straining against the sleep pants he had lazily tossed on. he was right, he wouldn't joke about something like this.
"please?" you ask. he's by your side in a second, scooping you up bridal style. he doesn't waste a second, carrying you to your shared bedroom, splaying you out on the sheets.
dante's fingers are under your panties in a second, spreading your folds apart for himself. he groans, thumb brushing your clit, trying to prep you for him. he didn't intend to be polite tonight, like he (usually) tried to do.
"damn, can't wait t' ruin this tonight. hit the jackpot, didn't i, baby?" he purrs mindlessly, rubbing a finger through your slickening folds, slowly working you up. he was gonna make sure you were nice and bred tonight.
you shift against his hand, seeking out more friction. stupid man, looking so pretty when he was out of his mind and hungry for you. he chuckles from above you, making another comment. "eager, hm?"
you nod, gasping as he leans down, inhaling the scent of your skin. "fuck, she smells good." he groans, licking your thigh, watching you shudder. he could feel you slickening up more, now dipping his fingers into you.
you moan at the stretch, letting dante work his way into your velvet walls. he growled at the way your cunt sucked his digits in, the slender fingers scissoring you open. he was getting restless, panting heavily as he imagined just sinking into your warmth.
"baby, gotta let me in now" he begs you, moving his head back up to suck a dark spot into the skin of your neck.
"please" you ask, earning a snarl from dante. his hands make quick work of his sweats, discarding them somewhere in the room. he didn't have boxers on under, not even caring to put them on when he came to find you.
he slides his tip between your folds, shuddering as his leaking head bumps your clit. you mewl, hips moving up, seeking more friction from your husband. "please, dante" you coo, needing to feel him in you.
dante seemed to need it just as bad, quickly repositioning to harshly thrust himself in. you hiss slightly at the stretch, the demon instantly moving his hips, seeking his own release. his hands grip down on your waist, smirking as he sees the outline of his cock through your stomach. fuck, he was deep.
"feel me, darlin?" he purrs in your ear, pressing hot kisses and bites to your neck as he fucks into you. "god, you feel good wrapped around me, so perfect, gonna fill ya..." he babbles on, hands adjusting your legs to press them to your chest, allowing himself to hit deeper into you. you moan unashamedly, eyes rolling back as his dick bullies its way in and out of you.
dante was growing sloppy, an orgasm approaching him quickly. he couldn't help it, you felt so perfect, taking him all, and the thought of filling you with his kids only spurred him on. he growls, clamping down his fangs onto your shoulder as he cums, painting your walls white. you whine, only getting a small break as he regains staminia, plunging back in without hesitation.
"dante!" you whine out, trying to meet your husband's eyes. they were hazed with lust, pupils small slivers. he looked hungry, almost primal in a sense. it was oddly attractive, making you ignore the way your poor cunt was getting used by him.
dante presses his sweaty forehead against yours, the display romantic compared to his more possessive and feral actions earlier. his thrust are messy now, cum coating the base of his dick as he pounds in and out, in and out.
he didn't seem to want this to end, his stamina far more than yours. your body felt weak and limp, yet it felt too good to even try and ask him to give you a break. you didn't even think you could speak, mind dumb from dante's dick abusing your hole.
you moan lazily, cumming around him again, the spasming of your walls sending the devil into another orgasm. he pushes himself as deep as physically possible, filling you up once again. fuck, your cunt was so warm and drenched in him, he couldn't help but want more!!
"dante?" you manage to whine out, voice barely a squeak. he looked hungry for more, eyes stuck in a trance as they bare down at your pussy, his release trapped in by the sheer size of him.
"think 'mma stay like this." he growls, leaning down to kiss your neck. "keep ya nice and plugged up, to make sure you're gonna have my kids."
you gulp, his words too attractive for the position you were in right now. you nod, letting him pull your body against his as he lays down in the shared bed, falling asleep.
you knew you should rest whole you could, figuring that he would wake up with a need for more - not that you could deny him, despite the pain you would feel for days after this. it was worth it in the end. you got his kids, and dante had a way to help soothe his ruts.
[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]
thinking about riding dante sparda’s abs.
you woke up in the middle of the night, questioning why your boyfriend didn’t join you in bed, yet you swore you could hear his snores echoing throughout your apartment.
dressed in an oversized shirt, you step out of your bedroom, your bare feet touching at the wooden floors that creak with your added weight. as you venture out into the living room, dante’s snores became even more prominent. noticing the way his boots hang precariously off the side of the couch, you inch closer to the piece of furniture only to find dante sprawled out in a deep slumber.
his chest moves in tune to his deep breaths, making you cross your arms upon seeing his torn clothes and how his abdomen was revealed to you. you lean forward, ready to wake him up when a sudden urge-
a compulsion you couldn’t seem to ignore courses through you.
your eyes kept taking in the sinful sight of him, with his torn shirt and how it left nothing to the imagination. dante was laid out so deliciously for you that you had to take a moment to admire him. as if sculpted by the gods themselves, there wasn’t an inch of dante that was short of perfection. while he breathed, you watched with an almost hungry gaze at how his muscles rippled in response.
a familiar ache was settled between your legs when you carefully step out of your panties, kicking them aside when they pool against your ankles. heat was felt blossoming within your veins when you manage to climb on top of your beloved hunter, placing your naked center over his abdomen while trembling at how the first contact made you feel.
low whimpers escape from your parted lips when you brace yourself against his chest, moving your slick heat up and down his abdomen. you allow each muscled ridge to catch at your clit, fueling the bundle of nerves with some much needed friction. your movements succeed in making the couch bounce in response, with dante no longer asleep as he lazily watches you while a storm was felt brewing beneath his eyes.
his low whistle was what makes you stutter in your movements, eyes going wide when his large hands were felt gripping at your waist. “you surprised me with a gift? you shouldn’t have, baby.” taking advantage of your distracted state, dante controls your movements by sliding you up and down the length of his abdomen, your arousal staining at his skin making him groan in response.
“you’re such a pretty girl for me… so damn pretty.” dante praises you in hushed tones, the deep timbre of his voice causing shivers to run up and down your spine. he suddenly removes your aching cunt away from his abs, keeping you still with one hand while freeing his cock from the confines of his pants with the other.
when his belt lands against the floor without a second thought, you found yourself laid back against the couch. dante removes your oversized shirt, giving him the view of your perky breasts and how your nipples hardened beneath his heated gaze. he lets out a low whistle, tossing aside your shirt while cupping one of your breasts within the palm of his hand. “how did a bastard like me get so lucky?”
playing with your nipples for another brief second, he releases them, feigning disappointment when he tosses both of your legs against his shoulder, “as much as i’d love to have my mouth suckling at your tits, ‘m afraid my dick just got way too hard to ignore. it’s practically leaking for you, babygirl.”
with your legs trapped against his shoulder, you could barely move, trembling with anticipation when you felt his cockhead lightly tracing at your outer lips. he collects the evidence of your arousal, slapping his tip playfully against your entrance to draw out even more of your whiny moans.
“ngh, dante…! stop teasing me…”
“heh, as you wish, babe.”
no longer teasing you, dante swiftly enters you, sheathing his cock deep inside your silky walls as he forces you into a mating press. his swift pounds were void of any gentleness as he fucks you with a possessiveness that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. you were so full of him-
so full of his cock that you lost every single thought that didn’t pertain to him.
the sensation of his cock nestled so deeply inside of you was overwhelming, filling you with a red hot pleasure you craved. his balls kept slapping against you, and you swore that he was fucking you so deep that he was practically in your womb at this point. the feeling of being fucked dumb along with the lingering scent of sex in the air were too much to bear when you manage to arch your back against the leather couch, releasing your juices down the length of his cock.
a growl was heard coming from dante as he continues to bully your sensitive walls with his cock, not stopping even when you had him in a vice grip. yet a few moments later, the need to cum overpowers everything else when dante stills his hips, allowing his dick to grow while you milked him for all he was worth.
thick spurts of his cum were felt being pumped inside you, making you drool at the sudden sensation as you were certain you had heart in your eyes for the beast of a man settled above you. when dante was confident that he was completely emptied did he land against you (earning a loud squeak from you).
“whoa, dante…! you’re so heavy…” his rich chuckle fills at your ear, with dante removing your legs from his shoulder and back down to his waist. he says your name in an almost reverent manner, his usually gruff voice tinged with an unusual softness that he reserves only for you. you meet his gaze, seeing the perfect quality of his true blue eyes, reminding you of clear ocean waters for a brief second until he leans forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
you respond eagerly, kissing him back with just as much passion when you opened up to him. tongues battled for dominance, yet you lost as soon as you felt his tongue pinning yours down. he explores your taste with a slowness that conveyed he had all the time in the world-
yet the sensation of something hard growing from inside you breaks you out of your haze, all too eager to delve in both of your hedonistic desires when dante pulls away from your lips.
with a cocky grin on his face, he spreads your legs wide open for him, allowing both of your legs to hang off either sides of the couch before pistoning his cock back into you. “heh, sorry princess, i guess once wasn’t enough f’ me. but… you’ll forgive me, right?”
and with how good dante was making you feel, you would have done anything and everything for him.
end notes: dante was made for the feminine gaze 🫦
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
I've seen your Vergil x reader as childhood friends and I was wondering maybe something like that for Dante? Maybe Reader met Dante during his time in the fostercare system and became super close? Maybe they meet again when Dante first becomes a lone demon hunter?
i must admit i thought about the reversing… 🧐 but, walk with me 🫰🏼
a/n: f! childhood! reader. sort of dmc netflix coded :3 also not proofread lolz
you couldn’t tell whether if your mind was fucking with you or this guy was a look-alike.
after a long day of mundane working, you thought you’d unwind at a diner nearby your workplace. you and your thoughts, a strawberry sundae, just peace and quiet.
the strawberry sundae was always your favorite.
it was your best friend’s favorite, too. all those years ago.
and it’s funny, because the guy sitting at the diner’s counter was eating one. maybe it’s also his favorite.
nonetheless, your best friend has always lingered in the back of your mind. you couldn’t remember his name. but he had pretty aqua eyes, white hair, a grin that challenged the sun’s rays. a real charmer, the boy was, even if he was recklessly stupid.
but this guy looked just like him. it was like looking into his future, even if you haven’t seen him in years.
you remember the very day that you met your best friend.
a bright day in an orphanage that made every day depressing. one day, you were sat in a corner, playing with your favorite toys.
“can i play with you?” a small voice breaks you out of your trance. you look up to meet your gaze with a young boy, just about your height.
you give a bright smile. it isn’t everyday that someone wants to play with you. “of course!”
you hand him a knight toy. he looks at the toy, at you, before taking it gently from your hands.
the two of you played knights and princesses for most of the day. and you had to admit, it was one of the best days of your life, meeting someone who was willing to play with little you.
the longer you played, the more comfortable he got. he smiled, yelled, ran around without a care in the world. and that only urged you to join him.
laughter and some of your brightest smiles came across your features. and by the end of it, when the two of you had to split, you remembered you didn’t know his name.
you and the boy stood facing one another in the dim hallway, the sun’s rays painting the walls in a blood orange.
“can we play again tomorrow?” you ask him, tone full of hope. the boy nods his head excitedly. “yeah! i’ll show you a new game we can play.”
you clench your little hands into fists before speaking up again. “what’s your name?”
he blinks once, before grinning all the way to his ears. “it’s dante. it’s nice to meet you.”
oh, dante was his name.
and you must’ve said it out loud or something, because a voice speaks your name. a voice that you don’t recognize.
you glance up, and that stranger is standing in the middle of the diner, gaze locked onto you. your eyes widen.
“dante?” you breathe, slowly rising from your seat. aqua eyes, gorgeous white hair. there’s no mistaking it, it’s definitely him.
he breathes out a chuckle, mustering a crooked smile. “hey, it’s really you.” he takes one step, another. “how has everything been?”
you didn’t answer at first. you still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your old best friend was actually standing in front of you.
you swallow down the shock, smiling at the sight of his contagious one. “good. yeah, it’s been good.”
he hums in response, gesturing his head for you to sit, and taking the seat opposite of you. “c’mon, we have to catch up. ‘s been too long, y’know.” dante points out, gesturing a hand in defense to his point.
you laugh softly, “you’re right.” you lean forward, eyes glinting with curiosity. “what have you been doing lately?”
dante visibly jerks in his seat, pulling at his collar. “oh, well, y’know,” he chuckles, almost sounding nervous. “i do… hunting, yeah.”
“like animals?” you tilt your head. “sure.” he grunts.
the two of you talk for what seems like hours in a short amount of time. you’ve come to realize that he hasn’t changed personality wise. but physically is a different story.
your conversation simmers into a comfortable silence, a space undisturbed by any of the other customers around you two.
“i see you still like strawberry sundaes.” you comment, watching the way he rolls his eyes in response. “duh. can’t go wrong with that.”
“i bet you still cry when a strawberry drops out of it.”
“that was one time!”
“still happened.”
the two of you laugh for a moment, and your hand accidentally grazes his.
you pull back out of instinct, mumbling a quiet “sorry” underneath your breath. dante, though, keeps his hand where it is. if anything, he moves it closer to yours. they’re clammy.
he looks away from you before mumbling, “don’t apologize. i’ve missed talking to you.”
your breath hitches in your throat for a second before you relax your features, letting your fingers rest against his. “me too.”
you didn’t know if you’d ever get to see him again. but your best friend’s no longer a distant memory.
your vergil x chubby reader changed my life i swear that shit was so peak …. would you be open to doing something similar with dante 🙏 no pressure ofc cus i get if it gets tiring to write the same thing lol 😓!!
this is a year overdue and I am so so sorry, but i have finally remembered to post it!! enjoy, and thank you to everyone for being so patient !!
DANTE DATING HEADCANONS
To me, Dante is the physical embodiment of a hearth. Just so warm and comforting, seen as a refuge. I genuinely don’t think most, or really any, of his dating preferences lie in appearances. He craves comfort and understanding, and looks are secondary to matters of the heart.
That being said, he would obviously not care if his SO had extra weight or was fat. In fact, he’d welcome it for sureeee. It’s proof of life! Of nourishment and enjoyment.
Dante is definitely the kind of man that will make sure you’re happy, first and foremost. Dates might not be the most extravagant or expensive, but they’ll be worthwhile. His time is valuable, and the point of him dedicating a part of his busy schedule to you is proof of his love. He’d be more than happy to have you at his side, showing off what’s his.
I think Dante is probably a fidgety guy considering the restlessness he often displays. That in combination with how TOUCHY he is, you will never be left alone. He’s playing with your hands, twirling your hair, squeezing the flesh on your thighs or side. Just constantly handsy in the most puppy-like way.
Coming home after a long job would be bliss. Finding you sound asleep and worming his way next to you. Dante would take in your scent and curl into form, trying to absorb you into him.
Dante would totally be the kind of partner to steal and swap clothes. He’s wearing your fav shirt or letting you borrow one of his. The type to wear whatever you give him, including corny matching pajamas.
NSFW BELOW
This man has no shame–he likes what he likes! And what he likes is being a glutton in bed. Long makeout sessions, sloppy drunk sex, quickies in the morning. Again, his time to lounge at home is limited, so he’s making up for lost time.
Breeding kink for sureeee.
Counts pussy as dessert. Licking it like it’s soft-serve on a hot day.
The kind of man that will drag you into the bar bathroom for a drunk quickie between pool rounds. Has to bite down on your shoulder to avoid being caught because he’s the loud one.
MARKS YOU UPPPPP !! loves leaving hickeys and teeth marks everywhere. Doesn't care if you get teased because at least they know you're his.
MInd the trigger warnings! If something isn't properly tagged let me know and i'll happily add the tag. Enjoy!
Dante doesn't want love. He only wants a proof he still exists. You know that by now. And still, you find yourself in his arms every time he calls.
Dante x Reader, you can think of any Dante as you read that
TW/CW: angst, emotinal hurt/no comfort, smut, cyclical behaviour, unrequited atraction/love, implied sexual trauma (for Dante), dubious consent, self-destrictive behaviour, using sex as self-harm, emotinal dependency, dissociative sex, reader gets hurt, unhealthy coping machanisms, no romance and absolutely not proofread
"Kiss me..." you whisper, breathless, desperate plea that falls on deaf ears. Hope smothered, the yearning, that terrible hunger for affection always gnawing on your bones once again fed just enough not to starve to ash but never sated.
The answer you get is grunt; large hand splayed between your shoulder blades to press you face first into the softness of pillows that swallow moans and cries and sobs alike to turn them into cacophony of pleasure and desperation.
Did he even hear you?
You suppose not.
Every time Dante takes you it's not about you. Which hurts in a way neither your mind nor your heart are able to process. He isn't a selfish lover, no. On the contrary the basic needs are always satisfied, the beast fully satiated laying on his back, belly swollen.
It's your mind, the rhythm of your heart that never gets enough.
Long fingers tangle in your hair and broken yelp escapes your lips as he yanks your head back and pulls; pulls harder than expected, than necessary, as your hands scramble for purchase and you find none. Instead one arm wraps around your middle, holds you steady- your back flush against his chest, your legs stretched open so far around his, faint pain starts tingling in your thighs. Warm hand finds your jaw and squeezes, his face slotting neatly at your neck. Dante's breathing is ragged as he trust into you, the new angle sending lightnings of pleasure along your spine, brain-melting, life-altering. Your back twists in an uncomfortable arch but discomfort is not even a second thought inside your fussy brain.
"Please." You beg through the sobs and moans ripping your throat to shreds. "Please, please, pleasepleaseplease..."
What are you begging for? For more? You know he'll give you more, until you are drooling on the sheets, until your muscles are liquid and your bones jelly.
What are you begging for?
His arm tightens around your waist, his fingers digging into soft tissue. You'll be bruised tomorrow. It doesn't matter as he brushes the hair away from your face, still blunt teeth scraping the skin on your neck. Always teeth. Dante is not rough in the sense of wanting to hurt you for his own pleasure, but he isn't gentle; playing pretend at passion he hasn't felt, only seen the shape off; your arm shoots up to tangle your fingers in his hair, mirror of his own gesture, to pull him closer.
"Please..." A broken sound, ugly sound. Its simple existence makes you want to bite your tongue off, scrape the skin of your skull. Reduced to a beggar in the hands of a man than will never give you more than lust.
And yet sometimes you aren't sure if he gives you even that. The first few times he had you underneath him you could feel something was off but you weren't able to pinpoint what. Not that you can now, months into this strange arrangement you two have. Even as he is buried to the hilt in you something is missing. The devastating want you feel is absent from him. Dante barely speaks, the strength in the way he handles you-rehearsed, the praise he grunts rarely-learned.
In your chest the ache blooms with the same speed the pressure builds behind your navel. The same play to be played again and again, you know your lines by now, screaming and crying because it's too much. Too much pleasure, too much want, too much need. His trust are never frantic, each one fast and hard delivered like a blow to your composure. You will come, more than once, wrapped around his cock, around his fingers, if he chooses to be merciful on his tongue. His face always safely tucked away so you don't ever catch a glimpse of his eyes.
You did once.
Those weren't the eyes of a man lost in pleasure. Empty, so empty, bottomless blue-not the cloudless sky but the all consuming vortex of the ocean except there isn't anything else to consume; hollow.
He nips at your shoulder, keeps you close. So close, his body is live coals burning your skin down, the very pits of your soul blistered.
"Touch yourself for me." Hollow voice like hollow eyes.
And yet you obey, hand slithering down, down. You don't need it and neither does Dante. He doesn't look, it's not a show for him but you obey. Even if his pace is so hard you can't get your fingers to stay on your sensitive organ you obey.
It's good. It's so good, your eyes rolls in the back of your head, liquid euphoria splashing in your veins instead of blood. A hand you barely register through the haze of bliss grips your chest and stars explode behind your shut eyelids.
All you are is his. His and no one else's, not even your own.
The only person that has ever made you feel like that is Dante. It's amazing. It's wonderful, it is...
...it is disgusting. Isn't it?
The high of orgasm drains out slowly but the pleasure doesn't ebb somehow, still there building in your gut. Mixing with guilt and pain and loathing.
Dante slips out of you, strong hands guide you to lay on your side as he lifts your leg to prop on his shoulder. You turn your head away before he can push you away because by now you know- don't look at him. Don't. He won't let you. You don't want to.
It's a lie. You want to. To look, take him in, pull him closer, kiss him, have him. Be more of a body he uses to... What? You don't even know anymore. Sometimes you feel like nothing else than a proof of life, a defibrillator he uses to shock himself back into rhythm you can't follow. Can't understand no matter how much you think about it.
Dante doesn't want you. You know that with every fiber in your body.
Steady fingers find your entrance, carefully circle the rim before dipping once, twice; your traitorous body lifts in an aching arch of the mattress instinctively asking for more. You love it. You hate it. You hate yourself for loving it.
You find one of the discarded pillows and wrap your arms around it in a hug mocking the closeness you should feel from him.
Why are you here? Why do you keep coming back for more of this torture, equal for both of you? You will never have what you want with him, he will never give it.
Dante would never want you.
You know it like you know to breath through the all consuming pleasure when his cock pushes back into you. You can hear it in every grunt, pant, in his heavy breathing. He doesn't want you. He doesn't want it. The sex is a performance you willingly act in even when you don't know why.
Why are you here?
Why does he keep looking for you, calling you here, doing all this if he doesn't even enjoy it?
The pace he sets is brutal. You feel it in your bones rattling, in your teeth, in the shivering of your body. The plush of the pillow kills down every moan and sob, your muscles lock. And you risk a look, a sideways glance.
Dante is beautiful. You know it. Work of art that has no walls around it, too full of live, of passion, of kindness to be kept locked away.
There is strands of white hair falling on his eyes now and he doesn't look at you, his gaze fixed somewhere across the dark room; the neon light flickering through the window looks like blood on his pale skin. There is no life here now. He knows the steps and like a puppet goes through them, perfectly, cleanly. Completely detached of the dance itself.
You shouldn't have looked.
The illusion of mutual rapture is gone now. The pleasure behind your navel turns to bile and your moans quiet into whimpers, raspy intakes of air through your mouth.
His fingers tighten around your inner thigh so much you jolt up the bed, a pitiful cry making it out. Dante doesn't stop but his hand falls to the mattress, pins and needles in your leg.
" 'M sorry, baby." But he doesn't sound sorry. He doesn't sound anything. Just empty.
He lets your leg fall from his shoulder, grabs your hips to adjust you. The pillow you squeeze is a lifeline now and you refuse to let it go. And when he takes it from you to slot his body in its place you almost break apart right then and there. Because you can't stop your body from embracing him, a little mercy in the seemingly endless torture.
Why do you love it so much even as you hate it?
You guess you've always been a little masochistic.
Dante is warm. So warm. You tuck your face against his chest and a large hand cups the back of your head. A caricature of making love yet for a fraction of a second it feels real and your heart misses a beat in desperate hope.
Hope that dies down as fast as it came when instead of doing anything to show you he's with you still he just pushed you closer.
The friction of the trusts burns now, every trace of arousal dying down, drying. It hurts. He is somewhere too far away to notice. Not the pleasure turning into pain, not the way your nails dig in his back. He just continues. Play the sonata to it's last note. A concerto with no other audience that the musicians whose fingers bleed from the strings.
"Please..." You beg again and his breath hitches deep into his lungs. The only reason you even hear it is how close you are. He picks his pace in response, faster, harder, chasing something that is long gone. Out of sight, never out of mind.
You wish you could feel like a piece of meat. Something to be chewed up and spit out. It would be so much easier if you could feel like you are the used one. You can't. Because it feels like he uses himself. A beautiful, pristine toy to give you all your body never felt before even if it smothers the light out if his eyes. It's you, you are the consumer even if he is the one who offers his body on platter forged of gold and regrets.
"Dante..." Your voice doesn't sound like your own, heavy, distant. The muscles in his forearm flex near your head. So close, so far away. Between your legs the burning grows.
He breaths deep. Steadying breaths, you've learned by now the sound of them, why he takes them. When he looks at you the crease in between his brows could've fooled you a while ago. Performative concern because he feels nothing. Not right now.
You taste the bile on your tongue.
A thumb brushes your cheek bone, pretend tentativeness. You choke the sickness down.
"What is it, sweetheart?"
You shouldn't have said anything, you realise then. Should've stayed an oblivious consumer that doesn't care about the pigs slaughtered for their meal. Do you have it in you? For one last act before you run to scrub away the sins off your skin. Greed and Gluttony and Lust.
"Can we stop?" You whisper because if you speak your voice will betray you and you act like a fool still in the dark, caressing gently the smooth skin on his shoulders, neck, the curve of his jaw.
The crease is real now, deeper. The concern inverted inward, wondering if you've seen something. Yet he masks it well.
"You good?"
You let the curtain you've peak behind still hang, stupidly, selfishly.
"Just too much. Not all of us can go forever."
Dante hums. His forehead relaxes and he lets go of you in such a gentle way it almost hurts more than if he was manhandling you still. Slips out but doesn't move away, wrapping his fingers around the impressive length of his cock and pumps. You feel like you might vomit but the show must wrap.
It doesn't take him long. The release he didn't even want comes out in tick ropes, hot against your skin, pearlescent drops sliding off the peaks of your curves to soak ruined sheets. It isn't grand, it isn't blissful. Just come, a function his body has and it's both beautiful and devastating to watch.
Dante bends and presses a kiss, light brush of lips against your forehead the second your body gives up on holding it anymore. Rehearsed sex, rehearsed affection, neither bringing either of you any gratification of an act that shouldn't have happened in the first place. The dam breaks behind your eyes and you squeeze them shut to stop the tears from spilling.
The shower you take later, hot and long, hides them. They sting. But inside you something is as hollow as him.
Your clothes stick to your skin. The charm is back in his posture, in the easy grin, in the way he opens the door for you. The kiss he gives you, the one you begged for in his bed tastes of almonds and feels like nothing. Poison hidden in sweetness. How long until it kills you and he moves to the next person, the next tool that reminds him he is real?
"I'm glad I saw you." Dante says, leaning on the door frame, shirtless, the cool night air biting your cheeks. Your eyes still sting from the crying that he doesn't know about. Or he does and simply doesn't want to acknowledge. To acknowledge it would mean that his path of self-destruction has taken others down with him. "Call you later, hm?"
You nod weakly. Then you make a show of an yawn, pretend you're tired even as you feel like kicked dog whose crime was looking for scraps.
He smiles, all charm and sweetness and pinches your chin between two fingers before giving you one more kiss, one more scrap of affection you know you'll stash inside your heart with every other lie you tell yourself as to why you should come back. Again and again and again.
"Good, baby. See you."
You swear this is the last time. Last time you are an instrument in his self-designed torture; last time you let him make you feel like beggar and a thief, both. And yet when he calls next time you pick up on the first ring.
I hate that when you’re stressed enough your body just starts falling apart. I think it should realize you’re already stressed and don’t need that and start functioning better actually
The funniest part to me is the way that she doesn't even believe her assistants are responsible for this. She 100% blames Edward "fictional character who can't directly affect the real world unless made to do so" Elric.
