I DIDN'T MEAN FOR IT TO GET THIS LONG I'M SORRY
not thoroughly proofread
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SFW
As much as he loves a polite and modest girl like Kyrie, I think Nero absolutely would go crazy for an alt/goth person. It's the individualism he likes, the sense of rebellion from the norm something he could relate to in his teen years with the order.
Though I say his taste in people generally boils down to how well you and him can get along and if you can get along with his little circle of oddballs and misfits. If you can get along with Nico and Kyrie, he'll love you for life.
If you and him can get close enough that he doesn't feel the need to hide nor censor himself, Nero will absolutely tell you every thought he has no matter how weird it is.
"if you mix all the monster flavors together, would you get the same effect as drinking five 5 hour energies?"
"No??"
"I mean, we can try..."
"It's on you if you're pissing rocks afterwards."
Also Nero is dreadfully spontaneous, will ask you to go anywhere any time. It'll be 2AM, he's nudging you awake and telling you "let's go on a night stroll." And bundling you up in one of his hoodies and giggling at your groggy protests.
Finds you pretty no matter what. I mean it. You can be in your makeup and he'll kiss you until your lipstick is all over his face, or you can be in your PJ's and he'll rest his head on your stomach, kissing over your tummy and giggling into it like a lovesick idiot. You can be changing into work clothes and he'll sit on the edge of the bed absolutely besotted with the person he fell in love with.
Nero is so loyal, almost to a fault. If you get into an argument or you're going through a rough patch, this boy will never falter nor will he waver. If anything, it strengthens his feelings for you.
After arguments, he'll give you the space you need but afterwards when you're ready to talk to just sit, your favorite drink is sitting on the coffee table and some chocolates too.
He's very meek in the aftermath of any argument and his deathly afraid you're reconsidering your relationship. He cleans up the kitchen and tries to do things that he hopes will prove himself to you, or placate your sour mood that he might've caused. His knee will bounce like crazy as he watches you like you're about to maul his face off for breathing too loud.
This isn't to say he can't handle confrontation, he'll fucking kick ass if you tell him some creep is bothering you. It's just Nero is an absolute mess of emotions, and sometimes he is terrified that you are perturbed by his lack of emotional regulation sometimes. You mean so much to him and he wants to be the best he can be for you if not for himself.
On a lighter note! Nero uses a considerable amount of slang if his mood is good. Will hit you with the: "I'm the alpha, i'm the one to trust." After you two have been Redgrave's pest control for demons only because it's funny to see your bewilderment. He will regularly refer to you as babe, chat, gang or anything that comes to mind if he's feeling silly. It heals him when he can laugh with you over stupid shit and joke back with the same brain rot nonsense that is beyond Dante or Vergil. Suffice to say, Nero lives for the chemistry you two have.
He's also is your number one gossip buddy and will absolutely bitch with you about anything. Though if you just need a sounding board, he is happy to listen, though he will not hold back his face if the guy you're talking about does or said something cringe or stupid.
"And so this asshole-- What's that face for?"
"I don't fuck with this guy."
"Yeah, I get that."
"I will absolutely do something about this guy if you want me to."
"He was just being rude."
"Exactly! No one fucks with you and gets away with it!"
Nero will not tolerate anyone talking shit behind your back and will absolutely be your informant about anyone who does so if he can keep back his anger before he finally gets to tell you.
He will defend your honor even if you aren't there, he will get so fired up over you if anyone doubts you.
"You don't know them like that, I suggest keeping your mouth shut before I do something about it."
"I live by a little saying; Talk shit, get hit. Last chance to keep your teeth where they belong."
Absolute master of a nasty glare, rivaled by none other than his father. Nero will give anyone he doesn't like the meanest side eye known to mankind and watch them walk off with their tail between their legs.
Nero loves sharing music and will pull out some earbuds to share when you're decompressing after demon hunting in the back of Nico's van. Those times he will let you pick the music if you still have any brain power to do so. If not, he'll play something instrumental and mellow just to soothe both of your nerves.
Though for Nero, physical touch is always his surefire way to help him calm down from a rough day or any outburst he just came out of. He needs someone to reassure him with a firm hug and a hand through his hair, Your verbal reassurance and your affirmation that he's safe with you, that you can be there when he isn't strong enough to protect his loved ones is enough to make him all teary eyed and sentimental.
He's not really afraid to cry around you when you two both get deeper into the relationship, both of you don't really have any walls between you and Nero will ask you to hold him when his mood has taken a nosedive.
NSFW
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He probably prefers a more romantic experience, though he gets really lost in it, especially after the second round. Probably fucked the bed two inches away from the wall once after you wore those pants he likes during a mission.
I think Nero isn't really into the whole 'free use' thing, his libido isn't exceedingly high but if you give him that look and pull him away into somewhere less risky, he'll be pitching a tent like a hormonal teen.
Nero loves to say something like "I know better, but god, it's been a while." (king mala reference) when you are making out in an empty alley as a little break during a mission. He loves making out with your hips together, either of your arms around each other in a tangled mess of passion, especially when it gets too steamy and you're both panting on the couch while he begs to eat you out.
Nero also loves it when you're just about to fuck and he looks you in the eye ask asks for your consent. He wants to hear how much you need him, how your body needs it like his.
"C'mon baby, tell me how much you want it." Or if you try to pounce on the opportunity, You try and grab his belt and he'll hold your wrist in place saying: "Nuh ah, not until I hear some manners."
He isn't too freaky but he's not opposed to using sweet surrender If you're wanting to spice it up in the bedroom. If anything, he probably brought it up as "A stress reliever, For when you're feeling extra tense. Nico and I designed it with you in mind."
You and him both know what it's for, and god does he know how to use it. Your first time testing it was possibly one of your more memorable moments of intimacy.
He probably would have lots of fun being a brat tamer, he likes it when you mouth off to him while he's got you pinned down and your thighs are wrapped around his waist.
"Yeah? Is that how you feel about it? You can tell me later when you've finally dropped the attitude."
He'll give you only half of his cock if you haven't been too disobedient. Though if you're dead set on being an absolute brat, Nero will either eat you out or finger you until you're unable to speak, making smug comments all the while.
"Dawww, look at you. Too fucked out to argue anymore, aren't you?"
"You'd have my cock by now if you hadn't decided to talk back. C'mon baby, tell me how much you want me to fuck you proper."
"Oh, I knowwww... you want it so bad! Who's to blame for that? That's right, tell me whose fault it is for getting snappy with me."
Nero isn't big into humiliation and won't ever call you a bitch, a slut or a whore, but he will be a little unfair when he's got you how he wants you. Whether it be you're tuckered out from riding him and he's hugged you to his chest and bucking up into you, or he's rubbing your entrance while he's inside you. He'll either keep you right on the edge or overstimulate you to tears.
Nastiest mouth when he's about to orgasam though. He'll cuss enough to make a sailor blush while groaning shamelessly
"Keep doing that and i'll fucking cum. Yeah? You want that? Fucking scream how bad you need me to cum in you."
He loves how sex gets increasingly desperate. how it's at first slow and clumsy, you're giggling and kissing shyly and by the end of it Nero has your knees into your chest in the most intense form of mating press you've ever been put in. He's so unabashedly loud and talkative because he loves being told he's doing good and he's essentially doing the same for you while waking up your neighbors in the process.
"Fuck! Gonna squeeze me fucking dry. Oh my god, I love you. I love you and this fucking gorgeous body!"
"Doing so well, and all for me? You've spoiled me rotten, you know that? No one else could do this to me."
"You feel that? Making me horny like I'm thirteen all over again. I want you so much."
He's such a carpet munching, box eating whore that he could sustain himself off of pussy if you let him. Though if you're a dude (I HC that Nero is at least Bi-curious) and you offer for him to eat your ass out, he'll be rather apprehensive though he'll let you do it to him just to warm him up to the idea a little.
HE LOVES IT WHEN YOU SPELL HIS NAME AND HE WRITES IT OUT ON YOUR CLIT/ASSHOLE WITH HIS TONGUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He will do the same with his fingers because he loves the way it sounds when you say his name in pleasure. And if you're a guy, he'll spell his first name along the length of your dick and give the head a little squeeze when you put the letters together.
has mastered the finger and the tongue combo down to a perfect science. Nero will tongue fuck you with his fingers gently pinching your clit or his fingers curling and massaging your inner walls while he's giving your length a tongue bath.
though if you return the favor, Nero's going to turn into the most submissive puddle while he pets your hair with his human hand and fisting the sheet with his devil bringer/breaker. He knows he'll be too hard if he allows himself to guide your pace so he'll simply opt for begging you to go faster or ask you to suckle on his tip while you catch your breath.
I like to imagine he isn't opposed on the idea of sex toys. He's too ashamed to ask Nico to make any more 'stress relief tools' so he'll take a trip to the nearest adult store with you and let you run free and laugh at all the ribbed dildos and absurd leather gear, eventually finding what you both would be interesting in trying and saving it for a later date.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
♰ cw: mentions of blood and violence. implied/referenced family abuse and bullying.
end of small sanctuary masterlist
the walk to the order’s infirmary was quiet. not peaceful by any means, considering you still had blood running down your broken nose, fingers bloodied whenever you’d wipe your nose.
people still stared. as quiet as fortuna was, their citizens were incredibly fucking nosy. and considering you were pretty much a criminal turned holy knight, they weren’t shocked to see you in such disarray.
you still heard the whispers. the questions regarding your state, wondering what happened — anything that could point them to the trouble you just caused.
would they believe, for the first time in years, that the reason your nose was completely broken wasn’t because of your knack for getting into trouble? that it was the cause of an upstanding holy knight who thought he was as pure as his duty?
the thought dissipated just as quickly as it seeped into your mind. no one cared. they’d quickly pin the blame on you and call it a day. that’s how the order worked. that’s how your life worked. pin the blame on you, leave it at that.
you weren’t fueled by the anger of not being seen anymore. you knew it wasn’t worth the effort to cry and whine at the world or at your parents to finally make them spare a glance at you. to make them see this was all their fault. that the cesspool full of conflict and anger that you’ve turned into was just as much their fault as it was, is yours.
but god, did you get tired quickly. so quickly your efforts to be seen came to be fruitless. it wasn’t even frustrating. not even sad. was middle ground supposed to describe the immense chasm that your own troubled self caused?
you’ve thought about it way more lately. about how easy it was for your parents to kick you out of the house after they lumped their very own responsibilities to the order of the sword. once they’ve realized the order would take on the task to straighten you up, it was just as easy for your parents to forget you were ever their child.
they’re probably living peacefully now. considering you were an only child and their only burden.
you believed it was for the best. even if it hurt. even if you still yearned to be seen, after so many years of hiding behind all your anger and hatred.
but there was nothing you could do now.
your eyes burned with unshed tears. you forced yourself to ignore it and blame it on the gentle breeze hitting your face and causing the unbearable pain in your cracked nose to pulse violently, ‘cuz there was no fucking way it didn’t hurt this bad. nero managing to crack your nose with a single punch had to be something you should’ve been prepared for, but god, did you not see it coming.
you wouldn’t say you didn’t deserve it, but it’s the fact that you’ve gone so long engaging with violence that this was the very first time someone managed to land a hit on you — so bad they cracked your nose — that made you feel distraught.
it’s not like you didn’t know nero was a half-demon. it was pretty fucking obvious. his devil bringer was somehow, always turned into a topic of sorts between the holy knights. what made you feel distraught, and truly pissed you off to no end was that he didn’t punch you with his devil bringer.
he did all that with his human arm.
if he’d punched you with his devil bringer, you’d be pretty much dead. another body at the hands of the order of the sword.
and that’s what makes you stop dead on your way to the infirmary. in the middle of the street, with strangers still staring at you with nothing but misplaced worry and disdain. why? why didn’t nero actually take the opportunity to end the very reason his life turned for the worse?
that’s what bothered you the most.
not even the thought of your parents enjoying your absence set you off this badly.
you finally arrived to the order’s infirmary after what felt like hours. curse credo for making you patrol the outskirts of fortuna.
at least your partner was going to take care of the paperwork for you, or that’s what you think he’d be doing since he was the one to send you all the way here.
not a single holy knight spared you a glance. despite the still steady stream of blood pouring down your nose and down to your uniform. and it was shocking, considering they were the first ones to talk shit whenever you were involved.
guess the broken nose got you a moment of respite.
you didn’t bother to knock on the door to the infirmary and just opened it, already expecting the mother in charge to drag you through hell for bloodying the tiles she’d just cleaned in her downtime.
you weren’t expecting to see kyrie.
“just a sec!” she chirped as she doted down something on a notepad, her eyes looking at a cabinet. you lingered on the doorway until she closed the notepad and turned to look at you, immediately stopping in her tracks as she regarded you with wide eyes.
she quickly made her way towards you. “oh my—” she looked at your bloodied nose and uniform with nothing but shock. “what happened to you?” she asked as she dragged you deeper into the infirmary, closing the door behind you and locking it for good measure.
if you were honest, you didn’t feel anything as you were looked at and regarded with so much tenderness for probably the first time in your life.
yet kyrie was like that to everyone. it wasn’t news to you.
she made you sit down in the infirmary bed, quickly looking for a cloth to clean your nose. once she did, she dipped it in alcohol and closed the distance between you both, getting to work almost immediately.
“did you get into another fight?” kyrie asked as she started to wipe the rag around your nose as gently as she could. the burn of the alcohol in your skin felt grounding in a way as you tried not to flinch away from her touch.
muscle memory was a bitch.
“…you could say that,” you finally mumbled as she cleaned your face and nose from all the blood and grime. you weren’t used to this. whenever you’d get injured or hurt in any capacity, you’d simply fuck off to your room and take care of your injuries all by yourself. but considering this wasn’t something you could crack into place and call it a day, it felt so incredibly uncomfortable.
you wanted to rip your skin out. push kyrie away, leave the infirmary, and never look back. not out of humiliation, that was the least of your worries right now.
it was the way she treated you so softly that made you want to leave. why did you think this was a good idea? you should’ve asked the knight you were patrolling with to crack your nose back into place and then look for someone who could fix it, even if it came with a price.
god, you were so fucking unlucky. here you were, with a broken nose and not a single dime in your name to be able to fix it.
nero’s definitely going to pay for this.
silence stretched between you again as kyrie finally cleaned all the blood from your nose and face, frowning at the mess that was your uniform before looking back at your broken nose. “i’m afraid it’s indeed broken,” she murmured as she tilted your face towards her to take a closer look.
“no shit,” your voice cracked as your eyes avoided kyrie’s completely. this was so weird. this somehow felt worse than being kicked in the gut by all of your bullies back when you were a kid. worse than your parents calling you all possible names under the sun. worse than not eating for an entire day ‘cuz your parents found out you got into a fight at school once again.
nothing could possibly be worse than this.
kyrie nodded her head with a frown. “you’re definitely going to need surgery for it,” she says as she finally steps away from you. “i hope you didn’t try cracking it into place yourself.”
you almost scoffed at that. “it’s not like i can afford to pay a surgery for this,” it sucked, yeah. but it was painfully true. not even if you ate scraps for dinner for four months straight could make you able to afford it.
you could live with a cracked nose. but would the order of the sword allow you to?
kyrie’s frown seemed to answer that for you. “i can let the order know that you really need it,” she murmured, voice growing meek out of the sudden.
you wanted to laugh. was bureaucracy going to work your way this time? absolutely fucking not. maybe nepotism could, if that’s what kyrie was trying to imply.
but even then, it felt highly improbable. there was no way sweet kyrie was trying to find a loophole in the order’s rules for you to get your nose fixed, without spending a single dime from your own pockets.
that had to come with a price.
and judging by the look in your face, kyrie knew you were thinking about it, too. “you’re definitely going to be benched,” she said quietly. “there’s no way you could keep up with your duty as a holy knight like this.”
“it’s just a broken nose,” you shrugged. you didn’t even know why you were arguing with her about this. if they were going to bench you, that meant you could avoid nero as much as you wanted. plan something to strike back as harshly as he did. make it even worse for even thinking he could put his hands on you.
“but it’s still an injury,” kyrie argued back. “a serious one. maybe not to you, but the order could—”
“make me look like an inconvenience?” you finished for her. “for a broken nose?” you scoffed lightly, bloodied fingers tapping the paper sheet over the infirmary bed. “let’s be realistic. the order doesn’t and won’t care about a random holy knight’s busted nose.”
even at your words, kyrie didn’t yield. surprisingly. “they’d still bench anyone for a busted nose,” she said, voice completely resolute. “that’s how this works. a holy knight gets hurt or severely injured, they get benched. simple as that.”
arguing with someone like kyrie quickly proved to be pointless. and annoying. you were in too much pain and quite frankly, exhausted to be dealing with this. so you relented with a punched out: “fine,” you grunted as you looked at her with tired eyes. “what do i do?”
kyrie was shocked that you gave in, and tried so hard not to beam at your words — she failed so miserably it made you want to crack your nose right then and there, see what other reaction you could get from her.
she took your silence as an opportunity to explain what would happen next. how she’d inform your superior (credo in this case) that you were injured and needed surgery immediately, even if it wasn’t as serious as she painted it out to be.
you didn’t want her help. in any shape or form. not from her or her family. not because it made you feel weak.
but because you didn’t want nero to have even more leverage against you.
when did this entire thing get so out of your hands that for just a quick second, it made you feel completely out of your element? you had the upper hand for so long. but a quick punch to your face made you stagger so badly that it made you end up at the infirmary. to make matters worse, this entire thing wouldn’t be happening if kyrie wasn’t the nurse in charge at the moment.
anyone else would’ve let you go with a few pain relievers and call it a day. kyrie obviously wasn’t going to let such an injury get this bad. even if you were clearly a very horrible, horrible person.
she had to know you were making his adopted brother’s life a literal hell. there was no way she hadn’t realized that you were practically a bully and perpetrator in nero’s life. it was clear as day you were the reason nero’s been miserable in the first place.
and if she knew, she was acting completely normal about it. almost with a nonchalance that wasn’t really characteristic of her. and that felt even more jarring.
but again, kyrie was like that to everyone. nice, all soft edges and an iron will that no one would’ve ever thought she had.
while she kept rambling your ear off about what she could do for you to get surgery, her last words downed on you: “you’re most likely going to get demoted to desk duty for the time being.”
one of your eyebrows ticked at the implication. “seriously?” you chuckled derisively. “you think the order’s gonna want me to fuck up mission reports now?”
kyrie flat-out ignored your crudeness. “the order can’t let you go like that.”
“why? they have tons of other knights that can do the same shit i do. why can’t i be let go?”
you knew the actual answer. you weren’t dumb to not be able to read between the lines. and once again, kyrie didn’t yield to your words.
she never would.
when you realized you were met with silence once again, you sighed. it sounded way more sharp than you intended, but you didn’t care at that point. “fine. but are they even going to allow that?”
of course they won’t. there was no way they would allow this at all. but for the nth time, this was kyrie we were talking about. it’s not like she had the power to move things around, but when one of your brothers had the rank — maybe her word did hold weight. in whatever way it was.
you rolled your eyes when kyrie nodded her head with a gentle smile, feeling way lighter that you were agreeing so easily with her. but that was only ‘cuz you couldn’t stand not breathing properly anymore. putting up a fight meant more talking, and your head was killing you so fucking bad that you’d appreciate not hearing her voice or anyone's at all.
and that’s how your visit to the infirmary ended, with kyrie promising she would let credo know you’re out of commission for the time being, and that he’d inform you what would be the next step for your duty as a holy knight who’s going to be benched for at least three months.
this was going to be horrible. being demoted to desk duty — the very first thing you did when you were recruited to the order of the sword. it felt so humiliating and you hated it. it was boring. it was hell. you didn’t train for months to be demoted to desk duty ‘cuz church boy decided it was a good idea to break your nose, for no reason at all.
maybe you should’ve told kyrie her step-brother was the reason your nose was busted in the first place. let her know every single detail that led to this.
but you didn’t. simply ‘cuz you will make this work. if credo was going to bench you, so be it. this small setback won’t stop you from planning something to make nero pay you back.
you’ve already lost everything. but he still had so many things left to lose.
nero wanted to beat the shit out of you, nothing new there.
the problem was that he woke up that morning with anger boiling violently in his veins, for no reason at all. he just knew that the moment someone talked to him in a different tone, he was going to start throwing punches right then and there.
he knew it was very unreasonable of him, but then again, when has he ever been reasonable or rational? anger was second nature to him for as long as he’s lived.
it tracks that he’s been a lot more volatile since you were recruited, too.
he hates that he has to live like this now, with rage clouding his senses for as long as you stay in the order and fortuna.
so if there’s a way he could numb down this constant feeling, it’s by either punching your lights out or even better: killing you. but he still didn’t know if he could ever manage to do the former, so he conformed with just beating you to unconsciousness.
that’s if he could manage to do it. he’s not squeamish by any means, but was getting blood in his hands considered a good idea?
he knew it wasn’t worth acting upon his thoughts, especially if they involved even a minuscule part of you (against his own will, obviously). he couldn’t trust his brain anymore, it’s been wired differently since he realized that he liked his step-sister.
maybe he’s the one who needs to be killed. a quarter-demon who’s crushing on his human, adoptive sister? he deserves to be struck down just as you deserve to be beaten within an inch of your life.
just thinking about it again made his pressure skyrocket. so with that, he got himself in motion.
surely there was a way to get rid of this anger.
patrolling was fucking boring. even more when you were forced to do it. but when weren’t you forced to do things against your own will anyways?
you wouldn’t even consider this a punishment of sorts. this was your so called ‘duty’ after all. yet your duty felt like a chore anyway, and it was something that kept being constantly forced down your throat.
at least they weren’t forcing you to patrol all the way to the outskirts of town. you’ve heard from other holy knights it’s pretty much dead out there. not peaceful by any means, but still no activity that could need any other knight to stay patrolling in the first place.
still, patrolling outside fortuna felt just like that: dead. no demonic activity. nothing worth to be under the scorching sun for hours and little to no breaks. and it wasn’t like fortuna was a lively city anyway. the biggest activity in the entire town was the annual festival of the blade and even then— that wasn’t really enough to wake such a tranquil city up.
you wiped down the sweat that kept trailing down your forehead for the nth time. credo had to hate your guts so fucking much to be giving you patrol duty on the hottest day in fortuna, but at least you were thankful he didn’t make you do this with church boy.
not like the holy knight you were assigned with was any better, but at least it wasn’t nero.
to make matters a bit worse, the knight you were patrolling with was nowhere to be found, excusing themselves for a supposed bathroom break (that’s lasting more than five minutes, but who were you to judge?) leaving you completely alone.
you wouldn’t mind it at all if you weren’t under the sun since early morning. or if it was a bit chilly. but beggars can’t be choosers— and you weren’t the most appropriate person to be asking for something good to finally happen to you, considering what you’ve been doing since then.
but shitty people still deserved something, right?
you fanned yourself with your hand as you waited for the other holy knight to finally appear from their twenty minute long bathroom break— but the longer you waited, the more your patience was starting to thin.
you were about to turn on your heel and walk back to your dorm only to hear a pair footsteps approach you. you huffed a breath before you said through barely contained anger: “jesus fucking christ, took you long enough—”
then you turned around. only to come face to face with none other than nero.
your eyes almost rolled to the back of your skull. “fuck’s sake,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “you got nothing else to do other than stalk me now?”
nero scoffed at your words immediately, yet he bit back a retort, surprisingly. when you didn’t hear a semblance of a response, you squinted your eyes at him through the blaring sunlight. “too pussy to answer now?” you pressed when you still didn’t hear anything from him.
you should’ve known his silence was a sign, yet it happened within the blink of an eye. before you even realized, you were stumbling backwards with a groan, feeling the steady stream of blood dripping down your nose from the impact.
you tried to assess the damage, completely ignoring the ringing in your ears and the pain that started to spread all over your body as violently as your heart beat in its place.
you were sure you heard a crack the moment his fist collided with your nose, and judging by the look in nero’s face, the smug kind whenever he’d finally have some sort of leverage against you, told you he heard and felt it too.
you didn’t realize you’d tackled him into the ground until you felt your fist collide several times against the side of his face. anger clouded your mind so quickly you weren’t sure you were even hitting him at all. sweat beaded on your forehead and blood trickled down your nose steadily as you tried to repay him all the shit he’s done to you ever since you were recruited.
time slowed down when nero managed to land another blow to your face and you struck back just as hard in retaliation— and in reality, it had been just a few long minutes since you started to beat each other up, before the holy knight you were on duty with finally decided to appear and separate the two of you.
you thrashed around his grip when he managed to separate you from nero, who finally sat up on the ground after he felt your weight on him disappear. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” you didn’t really know who he was directing the question to, but it was clear it was aimed to you both.
when your partner in duty was met with silence, he kept on speaking. “you two are adults,” he spat out with disdain, fixing you both with a glare none of you flinched at. “fuckin’ act like it.”
you were expecting nero to scream and cry that he had a higher rank than this person you were paired with for the day— and he shouldn’t be talking down to him, yet it never came. instead, he only glared at him with as much disdain as he did to you, stood up and walked back to fortuna, not before bumping on your shoulder on purpose and as harshly as he could.
you’d be shocked if your entire body wasn’t burning with left-over adrenaline and pain. “you should get that checked out,” your partner spoke up after a few beats, waving a hand to your nose. “it looks broken.”
you wanted to roll your eyes, and you would’ve, only if it didn’t hurt so damn much. “really,” you gritted out with barely concealed anger, holding up your hand still smeared with your own blood. “i didn’t even fuckin’ realize.”
your partner didn’t even try to entertain your irritability. “want me to snap it back in place?” he suggested, but you shrugged him off. first you had to make sure if nero did in fact, tore your nose up with a single punch.
you tried to see for yourself by touching as carefully as you could around the area, but even doing so hurt like hell. you couldn’t even breathe properly at all, so that was enough confirmation to you: fucker definitely broke your nose. great.
you weren’t thinking of retaliation at this point. his own fucked up feelings for his step-sister were enough of a punishment for him, it seemed.
yet nero forgot you could cross the line too. in far worse ways.
Ugh! Need something sweet and sleepy with nero! I know you don't write smut, girlie I am with u it's so hard too! But I did read your makeout sesh with nero and that was literally the perfect amount of a little spice, so cute. Effing loved it!! But what about something with nero coming home from working with dante and nico, hes sleepy n he's missed you and he's just a bit needy? Ugh!
the door doesn’t so much open as stumble inward, its old hinges whining against the sudden weight.
nero’s voice follows right after, low and muttered, a string of curses that sound more worn-out than angry. his coat hangs half off his shoulder, devil bringer glinting in the lamplight like some half-shuttered star, and his hair’s a mess from wind and smoke and whatever else dante’s dragged him through tonight.
“hey,” he breathes out when his eyes find you, and it’s not the casual kind of greeting he throws around. it’s weighted, thick, like the word itself had been the thing pulling him home.
he kicks his boots off clumsily—one nearly topples the umbrella stand—and shrugs the rest of his coat down with a graceless tug. he looks smaller without it, or maybe it’s just the way fatigue has folded him into himself. dark circles stain under his eyes, and there’s dust at the collar of his shirt.
“long day?” you murmur.
nero huffs a laugh, short and tired. “you have no idea. dante’s idea of a ‘quick job’ turned into six hours of babysitting his dumb ass and then nico wanted to test a new upgrade and—” he cuts himself off with a wave of his flesh hand, as though the details don’t matter anymore. “point is, i’m wrecked.”
but even wrecked, he doesn’t head for the couch. he comes straight to you. his steps are heavy, dragging, and yet there’s something intent about them. like the moment he saw you, every muscle remembered what it wanted.
when he finally sinks down beside you, it’s not gentle. it’s the drop of a man who’s spent every last ounce of fight. his head finds your shoulder, heavy and warm, and the sigh that leaves him trembles with relief; his breath spilling warm against your collarbone.
“missed you,” he mumbles, words quiet but honest, searing all the same.
his hand—his real one—finds your waist. the touch is loose at first, almost hesitant, but then he grips tighter, pulling you flush against him. the shift presses his thigh to yours, the solid weight of his body crowding close.
you thread your fingers through his hair, and the sound that leaves him—a groan, low and raw—isn’t entirely innocent.
“don’t move,” he breathes, almost desperate. his devil bringer rests cold and heavy on your thigh, but his body is all heat, everywhere he touches.
he noses along your jaw, lazy, unhurried, until his mouth brushes the tender spot beneath your ear. a kiss—barely there, lips soft, almost testing. but when you shiver, he huffs a breath that sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
“forgot how good you smell,” he murmurs, lips grazing your skin again, lingering longer this time. “been driving me nuts all night.”
he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide. “kiss me?”
the words aren’t cocky. they’re thick, rough with need, the kind that makes your pulse stumble.
when you lean in, he meets you halfway. the kiss is hungry in its softness—his mouth hot and insistent, teeth catching lightly on your lower lip before he breathes you in like it’s the first real air he’s had all day.
his hand slides higher along your waist, thumb brushing the edge of your ribs, and his devil bringer tightens faintly on your thigh—not crushing, but firm, grounding.
“god, i missed this,” he mutters against your mouth, the words breaking between kisses. each one grows lazier, deeper, until he’s half-slumped against you, greedy for every press of lips, every exhale you give him.
when he finally pulls back, it’s only because his head drops to your shoulder again, breath hot and uneven. “should probably let you go,” he says, voice muffled into your shirt, though the curl of his mouth betrays him. “’m tired, but,” he hums. “still kinda want you all to myself right now.”
he peppers your collarbone with featherlight kisses, unhurried, half-asleep, and you realize this is what nero is when he’s stripped down to nothing but want:, clinging, unwilling to let go.
♱ warnings: religious themes, blackmailing, mentions of stepcest (nerokiri), violence, dark themes, tba
♱ note: this will only be a few non-linear drabbles/blurbs explaining nero and reader’s relationship. this is not a series.
♱ summary: you were a fresh face in the order of the sword, recruited against your own will as a means to make you straighten up your ways. despite that, you still took it in stride to be the worst holy knight the order of the sword had.
nero liked to stick to the rules. even then, he felt like it was too much, but there was never a chance to question the ways he soon grew to get used to since he was introduced to his new family — who was just as involved in the order of the sword as anyone in fortuna was.
he had been dealing with a lot of complicated feelings ever since he was adopted, trusting that going into confession would get rid of them — or at least the guilt that would press down on his chest everytime his sins were absolved. that was until you heard the biggest secret he’d trusted to the father in duty that day.
before you started to make his life a living hell, nero had always hated you. you couldn’t care less.
content warnings: +18. religious themes. implied religious guilt. implied blackmailing (from reader). mentioned stepcest (nerokiri).
notes: this is heavily inspired by @dollivication’s church boy nero bot. and its crazy since i was the one who requested it back when i just got to know dolly (almost a year ago actually!) so thank u dolly for cooking so hard and matching my freak <3 also sorry if this is a bit unpolished lol i literally wrote this in a whim since my nero neuron activated out of nowhere :3
end of small sanctuary masterlist
Nero realized you were the worst Holy Knight the Order's ever graced with the moment Credo introduced you.
You didn’t scream Holy Knight. At all. And you probably never will. As fucking cheesy as it sounded, in his own mind, there was nothing that screamed holy about you.
You were a terrible person, and that idea was cemented the moment Nero bumped into you while you were, very obviously, trying to skip mass the first time you were presented as the newest addition to the Order of the Sword.
“What are you doing?!” Nero gritted as he held your arm with a tight grip to stop you from leaving. “You’re not allowed to leave mass.”
He was met with the stoniest expression he’d ever seen you with since you got into the Order, but he saw the brief smirk that threatened to slip from your lips when you saw him react so bitterly at you leaving mass, but it disappeared just as quickly— and it made him even more angry.
He shook you in place, trying to get you to speak up despite mass still going on in the background. Nero was about to force the answer out of you before you decided to finally talk. “You think I care?” you said very slowly, like it was the first time you were trying out your own voice.
Nero stayed silent at that. And you were a bitch too? He shouldn’t even feel remotely surprised. But he was.
“You’re going to get in trouble,” he hissed again. Despite being met with nothing but apparent disdain from you and vice versa, he didn’t want you to get kicked out of the Order for simply skipping mass. It would be dumb, considering that the few things he’s got to know and see about you, it was no wonder the Order recruited you. You were a fighter, through and through. For being a human, you were definitely strong enough to be met with interest by Sanctus and the rest of the members.
Yet you didn’t see that yourself. Not the part where you didn’t know you were strong enough— you were already cocky as hell for that. You knew you were graced with the power to hold your own despite not having anything demonic in your blood. And even if Nero thought that was admirable, he hated the self-assuredness you carried yourself with.
He hated you. Point blank.
“You think I care?” you repeated once again, your deadpan expression disappearing completely, the smirk that was ghosting your lips finally taking place again, managing to get out of Nero’s grip, your hand rubbing the place where his fingers tightly gripped you.
Nero scoffed at your words, deciding that was the last time he’d worry about you. You could get kicked out of the Order for all he cared, it’d be a good riddance after all.
You weren’t worth the trouble. And he hoped Credo and the rest of the Order realized that soon enough.
You weren’t kicked out.
You got away with skipping mass with just a slap on your wrist and the promise of never doing it again, knowing you’d probably do it again.
And that got Nero so fucking livid.
He never could get away with skipping mass, mostly because he knew Credo would probably be disappointed in him, and he hated just even thinking of making him feel something negative towards him. He loved his step-brother so much, to the point that he’d rather die than let him down.
And it went the same way with Kyrie.
But it was way deeper than letting her down.
He knew it was borderline unsettling, having feelings for her step-sister deeper than fraternal, brotherly love. The kind you’d feel for another person that wasn’t your fucking step-sis.
Sure, they didn’t have any other tie than his adoption documents. No actual blood bound them together.
But he still knew how off-putting it was. He already felt like he was being punished for being a half-demon, that’s what he’d always think whenever a kid punched the shit out of him when he was back in the orphanage.
It was like he was asking for God to strike him down.
Maybe he should.
That way he’d stop feeling his heart race every time Kyrie hugged with nothing but affection. Not the kind he was feeling. The normal one.
Nero’s mind was restless.
His heart rang loudly in his ears. Ever since he realized his feelings for Kyrie ran deeper than normal, he started feeling like his heart was rapidly going to slam out of his chest. He could never stop the gnawing sensation of guilt from ever striking down on him, ‘cause he knew this wasn’t normal at all.
That’s why he’d always, without fail, show up to confession two times a week. Maybe three, if he felt like his mind started to go into unwarranted territory.
It would always go the same. He’d say he was starting to see his step-sister differently, the Father on duty would try as hard as he could not to show the disgust that’d lace his words when he’d absolve his sins, assign him a penance and let him leave.
It went like clockwork.
And it worked, for a few days until he’d go back to confess again. Rinse and repeat.
Confession was going okay, after the Father assigned him his penance for the day and he whispered a meek amen, Nero left the confessional, his heart feeling a little less heavy for the day.
Until he saw you sitting on one of the church’s pews.
Your head perked up at the sound of faint footsteps, your eyes glinting with something as you realized who it was, and Nero wanted to seriously punch that glimmer out of you until he saw nothing but red.
What a way to end a confession.
You stared at each other for a while until you spoke up. “So, you like Kyrie?”
Yeah. Fuck confession.
Nero couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his heart punching against his ribcage with a force that he didn’t know was physically possible. Hearing those words in his own mind made him feel like shit. But hearing you say them? It made him want to genuinely crash the fuck out.
He stayed completely silent, figuring out what he should say or how to deny your words without looking like he was about to lose it. What should he say? ‘Oh, yeah! I absolutely like my step-sister and I know how fucked up that is! I’m going to fucking maul you!’
When you still were met with silence, you stood up from the pew to stand in front of him, tilting your head to meet his fiery gaze. “Do you?” you asked again, not even trying to conceal the amusement out of your voice.
He was going to murder you. He’d make sure of it.
“Keep your nose out of my damn business,” Nero finally managed to sneer out, yet his voice came out as a meek whisper rather than the threatening tilt he tried to get out. He knew he sounded pathetic when he was met with a beaming smile from you.
“Like you did when I tried to skip mass?” you tilted your head, pouting your lips mockingly at him. From Nero’s point of view, it looked fucking ugly, the way you tried so hard to pretend someone you were not. You were a bitch through and through, and no matter how delicate you tried to make yourself out to be, the ugliness in you would always seep out.
“Was I supposed to let you get away with that unscathed?” Nero asked, finally coming back to his senses to stare right back at you with a sneer on his face. “You’re delusional.”
You tried not to roll your eyes at that. Typical church boy behavior. Always thinking highly of himself even when he had the biggest skeleton hiding in his closet.
“I just think it’s crazy, y’know,” you still didn’t level out with his anger, ‘cause you both knew you definitely had the upper hand on this.
Skipping mass was nothing compared to what Nero felt.
Nero tried to get a word in before you kept on speaking. “It’s crazy you immediately ran to Credo to accuse me of skipping mass,” you hummed in mock nonchalance. “Considering I could do the same right now.”
Nero’s blood immediately ran cold at your words.
You were truly a piece of shit.
When you were met with silence again, you spoke up. “It’s a good way to get back at you, don’t you think?” you said with a purse of your lips, looking at every change in his expression, knowing he was on the verge of actually losing it. “I’m not going to do it,” you said after a beat of silence.
Nero felt immediate relief, but he knew that wasn’t the end of it when he saw the ghost of a smirk tugging the corner of your lips. For now, he finished your words in his mind.
“Keep your nose out of my damn business,” you parroted his own words at him, backing away from him with a puff of breath. “And I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“Or what?” Nero gritted, cursing himself when he unconsciously talked back. He hated feeling threatened by you. You were nothing, no one to intimidate him. You were just a new recruit. He was held in a much bigger regard than you.
But just as he was held to a much higher standard, he knew he had a lot to lose.
That idea was cemented the moment you shrugged your shoulders in indifference. “You know what,” you replied with a hum and started to walk away, not before looking over your shoulder to say: “You don’t want such a big secret to leak out, do you?”
Nero watched as you walked out of the church with a bounce in your step, leaving him behind to figure out just what he could do to make sure your mouth would stay as shut as possible, before making his way back to the confessional.
HAIII I've read about all of ur DMC posts and they always make me feel gushy and silly OUGHH can I request a lil fluffy blurb of Nero with a reader who confesses their crush on him accidentally after a particularly bad fight w a demon?? Ty!!!! ( ◜‿◝ )♡
“well, this wasn’t really what i was hoping to do this evening but,” you looked back at the horde of chaoses headed straight for you, the scales on their back glinting as they caught sight of you and nero, “i guess i could use a little workout.” you looked towards your companion, a quizzical look on his face with blue rose slung over his shoulder. “so could you, y’know.”
“nah,” he said, charging up his devil breaker— or nico’s masterpiece, as she’d like to call it, “i’m good.” with that, he approached into the crowd, evading all their charges towards him as they whipped their tails.
you rolled your eyes, “ever so arrogant.” you unsheathed your own weapon, parrying one of the attacks that the chaos tried to get on you, it’s tail whooshing back and forth as it anticipated your next move.
he guffawed, “not arrogant! just know i’m— that— good!” he clenched his teeth as he rolled away from one of their attacks, successfully striking a vulnerable spot and knocking two of them down.
few more comments and where were you at now? kneeling over nero with deteriorating demon husks behind you, hands on his chest as you urged him to lay back down. “you’re hurt, nero.”
“relax, i’m— damnit!” his eyes scrunched close while his hand darted over to his abdomen, an aching sensation overtaking his stomach as he laid back down. you made sure to put your hand under his head to gently let it down so it wouldn’t hit the hard, concrete tile.
“listen, i appreciate the help— ugh, i guess. but you can just let me up.
“no, actually— i cant.”
“uh.. yes, you can.”
“nope,” you popped the p, “can’t do that.” you coaxed him to sit up against the wall since he was so antsy, patting his leg as you peered down at him— his eyes narrowed with skepticism. “can’t have nothin’ happen to you.”
“why? you got a crush on me or something?”
“yep, got problem with that?” your eyebrow quirked as you looked back up at him, tearing your eyes away from the pay phone nearby. maybe you’d watch his reaction a little more before going to call nico. he gulped, looking around as if somebody could hear. “well, no.” he finally said.
“then listen to me, ‘just that good’.” you stood up, darting over to the pay phone so nero wouldn’t have anything else to say.
he let out a breathless laugh, clutching his stomach as he tried to keep it to a minimum— so as to both not alert any nearby demons and to try and not strain himself as badly. he watched as you threw him a soft smile, holding the phone to your ear as you called nico.
knowing her, she wouldn’t take long before her van pulled up and would almost kill both of you from how reckless she drove, but nero couldn’t think of that when all he thought about was your words— how casual you were. he wondered how long you had held your feelings towards him for, and he wondered if they were as long as his. unfortunately, the rumbling of an approaching engine and tires skidding interrupted both of your thoughts, the silent moment now gone. you two would definitely talk about this later, you thought.
