im-just-a-simp-le-whore

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

"Are you in love with me?"

Even though Dante is pretending to be asleep, curled over your back with a forearm thrown over you to pin your body against his chest, the cadence of his breath changes as soon as you get the words out.

It's like you caught one and stole it for yourself – not an uncommon occurrence.

The question lingers for a second. And another. Then a few more. Thankfully you abandoned shame in pursuit of love long ago, leaving you free from the burn of rejection or pain in case that’s what the silence means.

It also helps that you are confident this is not what his silence means. 

You know he isn’t asleep, at least not all the way yet, but you can still practically feel the trepidation dripping from his fingertips where they skim your bare hip. 

“Silly me, I know you’re asleep,” a featherlight lie drops from your lips. 

He nearly exhales in relief, fingers relaxing against your skin. In response, you tense, back straightening and shoulders squaring. 

“So, I’m going to say this while I still have the courage. I am in lo–”

Dante’s hand slides from your chest to your mouth, covering it gently. 

“I am.” His disused voice rasps.

Pulling his hand down from your face, you pipe up. “You are…?”

“In love.” He kisses your temple for the briefest of seconds before lifting his chin to fully tuck his head beneath it, cradling you as though it’s what he was born to do. “Pathetically, stupidly, life changingly in love with you.”

Silence returns but your heart pounds so hard in your chest it echoes in your ears. You weren’t quite expecting him to drop the act entirely and fess up.

“This is, uh, harder than I thought it would be.”

Trying to lighten the tension, you clear your throat. “First time?”

He can’t see your cheeky smile but thankfully he can picture it.

“Yeah, actually. Never had any reason to say it to anyone else.”

What if your heart bursts? It feels like it may when you consider the implication of being the first woman he has loved aloud at the very least. Your clammy palms remain wrapped around his forearm, clutching him.

“You terrify me.”

Such a statement might not be the best method of diffusing the tension but he’ll try it anyway. 

“That’s fascinating coming from a big bad guy like you.”

Chuckling, he tightens his grip around you. His chin drops to rest against your shoulder, voice loud and clear right in your ear. “Maybe I’m not as big and bad as I look, have you ever thought about that?”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, finally turning in his arms and slipping your calves between his legs. He can finally make out the smile you’ve been struggling to hide even in the dim light, his breath stolen once again. 

“All the time, handsome.” You reach up to brush his mussed hair off of his face. “Alllll the time.”

“And it never makes you love me less? I mean, let me not get ahead of myself here – you do love me, right?”

“If you would have let me finish before playing the hero you definitely would’ve heard me say it the first time. But…” 

You look away, a little flustered despite that abandonment of shame you were so proud of. 

“God, yes. I think I’ve loved you since that first night, as insane as it sounds.”

Insane or not, he’s always felt it too. 

“Oh, so that’s why you hid from me for two weeks after that?”

You roll your eyes, reaching behind you to pinch his thigh. “It was three and yeah, exactly. Now you’re getting the hang of things.”

Both of you devolve into a small fit of giggles, bodies rubbing together while sleepy laughter wracks your chest and shakes your shoulders. It dies down, the tension mostly dying with it.

Still, there’s just enough left that tells you he has more to say. 

“Permission to be honest?” He asks, in a far smaller voice than usual.

“You have my permission to be anything, Dante.”

You can only hope he understands how true it is. 

“You terrify me because I don’t think I would know how to live without you now that I’ve had the luxury of living with you.” 

Smiling, you raise your eyebrows. “The luxury, huh? What a flatterer…”

“Hey,” he warns, capturing both of your hands in one of his and pressing your fingertips against his puckered lips. “You gave me permission to be honest, remember?”

Straightening up, you purse your lips and suck them inward, pretending to shut your mouth tightly. Your wide eyed stare makes it difficult for him to keep it together, a laugh on the precipice of his tongue. Somehow, he holds back, knowing that this is his chance. 

“The luxury. The privilege. Whatever you wanna call it.” He continues, eyes soft despite the tense set of his jaw. “I don’t want to fuck it up or eventually make you regret ever signing up to be a part of this thing I call a life.”

The amusing expression on your face turns somber before his eyes. 

“Do you want to know why I eventually gave up the whole running away bit?”

Feeling guilty for dampening the sweet mood, he opts to keep quiet and simply nods in response.

“Because I wanted to be part of your life. It’s not a thing, Dante - it lives and breathes and…it matters.” You smile, shaking your head. “Your life, you, us. It’s more precious than anything to me.”

“The only thing you could ever do to disappoint me would be to hurt me.”

“I wouldn–”

“I know. Not you, not ever. You’re not the type.” You crane your neck to kiss him. “Plus, I’m almost surprisingly hard to run off once I find somewhere worth being.”

“Then I really did get lucky.”

“No. You’ve just ended up where you’ve always been meant to be.”

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

character dante

anime devil may cry

ig: gumicaps

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

nero's depression headcanons‼️

i've got two requests sitting in my inbox but i'm too lazy to work on em rn (sorry 🥀), i wanna get something out for today (it's like 10:30pm) and this one's been sitting in my notes app so here you go lolz

g/n!reader, tw for dark thoughts (obviously). feel free to skip this one, take care of yourself 💙 this is a long one bc i think about it a LOT so buckle up!

most of it comes from bullied, neglected and rumoured about as a kid and as a teenager, but it also stems from survivor's guilt.

in deadly fortune, he talks about how kyrie and credo's parents died in a demon attack and says that it would've made more sense if it had been him and not saints like them. he was only 17 or 18 in deadly fortune.

nero really, REALLY hates talking about his feelings. he'll say he's fine when you ask him if he's okay. PLEASE call his bluff.

he struggles to be vulnerable, even with his partner because he's used to being the supportive one. it's honestly what he prefers.

he prefers to deal with his emotions on his own, mostly inwardly (despite his violent outbursts with demons and tiny crashouts that would suggest otherwise)

he might handle his anger outwardly, but not his sadness. never his sadness.

to be honest, all you can really do is give him extra physical affection and listen if he starts talking because sometimes he will. it's just rare and takes a while for him to start opening up

most of his tells are extremely quiet. not getting out of bed as early as he usually does, being extra quiet, spacing out more, stuff like that.

he still does stuff to make you happy, he's still cuddly (sometimes he even gets clingier), that doesn't change, but when he smiles back it won't quite reach his eyes. his laughs are more subdued and quiet

he doesn't like talking about his feelings, but the best way to support him is to just hold him and make sure he knows he can talk to you. he just needs you to make him feel safe, comforted and cared for

he also likes when you tell him that you appreciate him, love him, want him around and would be upset if he disappeared, even if he doesn't plan on actually disappearing. he just needs to hear that he's wanted.

when he does open up, he pauses a lot, just trying to gather his words

he gets teary, but tries not to cry. sometimes he fails, and he just leans into your hands when you wipe his tears

he'll talk about how he feels like it should've been him, or about something he experienced or had to do that haunted him, but he'll never ever tell you about how he sometimes just wants to disappear

he's happy you love him, but sometimes he wishes you didn't. he feels like he'll inevitably disappoint you or hurt you somehow, and it scares him.

to be honest, he is probably passively suicidal at times. he'd never want to leave you, but if he died fighting a demon, oh well y'know? that's his mindset some days. this translates into recklessness during fights

it's usually nico that berates him for it, she does worry a lot, but if you're also a devil hunter and you're along to see it, she'll stay quiet and let you do the fearful berating no matter how stressed she is about it

if nero gets reckless, nico always tells you just in case you didn't notice other quiet signs (if they were even there to notice)

if you notice signs, sometimes you tell nico so she'll go a little easier on him. as much as bantering and arguing is their love language, it isn't always good for him. if she makes any jokes about him "letting demons knock him around so much", he sometimes genuinely wonders if he's weak or just not good enough.

sometimes he gets genuinely angry during what's supposed to be playful banter and shuts down and it's just best to avoid that.

his coping mechanisms tend to consist of video games, sleeping more whenever he can, cuddling you and distracting himself with red queen and blue rose, even if he'd already done the routine maintenance. whatever got his mind off his sadness was good enough for him, he didn't really care what exactly it was.

you're honestly the only thing keeping him sane

he'd rather die than live without you. if you die, he'll be dead inside until he actually dies because of recklessness

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

Ahh can we have Dante x reader oneshot with sunshine (Dante) and grumpy (reader) troupe🦋🦋🦋 have a nice day ahead

here comes the sun ⋆｡°•☁️

“C’mon baby, one more?” Dante croons warmly, his palm traveling from the side of your neck to cup the side of your face, trying to get you to tilt your face to the side so he can kiss you. “Cut it out, I’m trying to measure this out.” You elbow his side, he’s nice enough to pretend like it hurts, huffing out a breath of air. You dump out the flour into the bowl of dry ingredients, carefully mixing it together. He whines but lays off, dragging himself to the couch to mope.

You and Dante are an unlikely pair, you find him charming, he just thinks you’re the sun and stars. He looks at you like you’re a god given gift, you might as well be for putting up with him. “Dante…would you like to lick the spoon?” You call out from the kitchen, he’s there in a second, like a little puppy who’s been offered a treat. You hold it out to him, he takes the some of the spoon into his mouth, and you feed him some of the raw dough. He hums in satisfaction, “S really good.” He gives you a thumbs up, “Imagine how much better it’ll taste cooked.” You say crinkling your nose when you hear the smacking noises of his mouth against the wooden spoon. He shrugs, careless pure usual.

The cookies are left to rise in the oven, Dante sits with your feet under his thighs, to “warm them up” while he blabs on about his last mission. You wish he’d be more careful sometimes, a healing factor doesn’t mean he should be so reckless. He’s so animated when he talks, making big gestures with his hands, and a big grin. It’s a little enamoring to you, his back is to the curtains, causing a warm glow to surround him. He blocks you from the sun, casting a Dante shaped shadow onto you. You nod and hum while he comes to the conclusion, reenacting how he swung his sword and slashed a demon in half. You give a faux applause and an earnest thumbs up, he’ll take that. He knows you aren’t one for theatrics, and he’s okay with that. Dante knew what he was signing up for.

The next fifteen minutes are spent with Dante trying to slip his tongue in your mouth. You turn your head to the side every chance you get, just to make him frustrated. That goes on till your timer goes off, Dante gets shoved to the side in favor of cookies, they trey is set on the stove top to cool. “You are way too neurotic about this…” He grumbles, “Look how perfect they look…it was worth it.” You mumble, feeling pride swell innyour stomach, theybreally do look picturesque, no thanks to Dante. He shoves a still hot cookie into his mouth and you gape, he hums, steam rushed from his nose as he thumbs up, “Pretty good babe.” He says through a mouthful of cookie. He gulps it down and smiles at you so wide his eyes crinkle up, it’s pretty cute. “I’ll make some more….y’know when this batch is done at least…” You murmur rubbing your neck sheepishly. Dante swoons, you’re so sweet offering to bake him cookies like some devoted house wife, its a little erotic for him to think about. Frilly aprons, kitten heels, rollers in your hair. You see that weird look on his face and smack him upside the head, Dante snaps out of it quickly.

“What’re you think about weirdo?”

“Uh..Nothing, just that these cookies really are great!”

“Right….”

dividers by @uzmacchiato

a/n: thanks anon!

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

Just a thought.

We know Dante is quite sexual. I sense that he loves sex, can go for hours, has great stamina and knows how to please his partner.

What if his s/o or soulmate isn't so keen on sex. I mean they like it but can't match Dante's level. Or is what you can think as Hyposexual. What happens then?

Dante's arousal heavily depends on his partner. He's easily aroused due to his devil heritage but he don't usually feel an overwhelming urge to do something about it, especially not once he gets a bit older. His arousal is substantially increased by his partner wanting it, and it'll kind of just easily fade away if his partner isn't into it at that moment.

While Dante can consciously and subconsciously influence arousal in others with his pheromones and stuff, it's not a full blown sex pollen. If he loves someone, then he just wants to be with them and be around them, if sex is off the table completely or infrequent then he's fine with that, he really just craves affection and closeness from his partner, in whatever forms that might take.

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

On a soft fluffy note where do you think the Sparda boys love to kiss their significant other ? 💋

oh, this is easy

dante likes to leave kisses on your neck and jawline, perhaps a miscalculation and he meant to land this kiss on your cheek, and you moved in the last second which caused his mouth to land elsewhere. and it's not even something he does consciously half the time, it's gotten so used to that being his spot he just automatically goes there and any part of the day you're around. just a dew second pop kiss, then he's back to doing whatever he was doing while you sigh over the scruff of his beard again.

vergil is the type to prefer his kisses to be on the inside of your wrist and atop your shoulders. delicate areas he's fond of and areas that are usually exposed to him he can easily reach, and it's no secret he's an undercover romantic so of course for more intimate areas. it's random when he does it too; just sitting next to him in silence and he lifted up your arm to place a kiss onto your wrist, or after you've just woken up you can feel the phantom lingering of his lips on your shoulder before he's moving about for the rest of his day.

and nero is so boyfriend material i can't think of anyone else that wouldn't prefer to leave kisses on your cheeks and forehead. simple areas, but it's nero's favorites considering he can smother you in them as he pleases and even lightly bite your cheek if he's feeling playful. and covered in oil from messing with the van, he's annoying when he comes in to kiss you on the cheek and laugh when you complain about the smudges he left on your face, or when he's leaving for another job as you see him off at the door, he places such a sweet kiss on your forehead that becomes his promise he'll come back to you as soon as he can.

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

Sketch with Vergil

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

thinking about sanemi who has a massive size kink, always taking pride in being the stronger one in your relationship, that his pretty girlfriend can just let her big, strong boyfriend take care of everything.

he’s very proud of his physique, wearing shirts that show off his muscular chest, or walking around your shared home completely shirtless - his sculpted abs and mesmerising scars on full display for you. you can’t help but drool.

sanemi loves it, he thrives off the attention you give him. he loves even more your difference in size, how his broad figure completely doubles yours, or how his hands and arms make yours look so ridiculously small, even if they aren’t.

he wouldn’t want it any other way, that’s just the kind of man he is. he likes being able to pick you up with ease, smiling at your giggles or whines to put you down. he’s the one you go to whenever you need furniture building, the domestic scene making you a little hot and heavy.

he especially loves how easy it is to manhandle you during sex, throwing you into any position he likes, or even holding you up as he forces you to take his huge cock - your pussy squeezing around his shaft and your eyes turning glossy with tears of pleasure.

and sanemi is big everywhere. the first time you two even had sex was a struggle, your pussy barely able to stretch around his cock with his choked groans and hisses sending your stomach fluttering with butterflies. he knew you were smaller, that it wouldn’t be the smoothest job - but he didn’t expect that his tip alone would make you a moaning mess.

he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him the fuck on, watching you struggle to take his cock and the way your pussy slowly stretched around him while tightening over and over again. and don’t even get him started on the way his cock looked lined up on your stomach. he looked huge compared to you. he felt his adam’s apple bobble just from that.

sanemi is pretty shameless about this kink of his, defending it by going on about how he just likes being your big, strong boyfriend - that he wants to feel like the man of the relationship. and while that is true, he’d also do pretty much anything you’d say when your pussy is that good.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

How do you think some of the self aware characters would react knowing the player had a very obvious favourite?

Like their favourite is Nero and they absolutely spoil him in red orbs compared to other characters. Or their favourite is a non-playable character like Nico and they purposefully stay for 10 minutes on the shop screen just to see her lol

Uhhhh, okay, I think I’ll do these in mini scenarios. Hope that’s ok, so, fuck it we ball, HERE WE GO-

Self Aware Dmc!! - Playing Favorites!!

Dante Sparda- if he was your favorite, he’d be excited. But also extremely cocky about it. Of course he’s your favorite!! He’s been the main character for the first three games and the one you use the most, no duh you choose him! He’d waste no time in bragging to anyone he could force to listen. And the others could try to shut him up but he knew they were jealous! Especially his brother and his nephew. I mean sure, he ended up fighting with them more because he kept teasing them over your bias towards him but it’s not his fault you had good taste! But if he wasn’t, he’d get pouty and whiny about it. He’d make his combos a little easier for you if you weren’t good at getting them yet and even go as far as to mess with the code just to get in your favorite’s way! Not too much though, just a bit. He wouldn’t want to ruin his little sweetheart’s gameplay, after all

“I’m your favorite…? Wha- uh I mean of course I am!! Never doubted it for a second, sweetheart!!”

“Huh?! Why them?? I’m so much better than them sweetheart!! That’s not fair!!..don’t worry little sweetheart, I’ll change your mind soon enough”

Vergil Sparda- he’d be surprised, to say the least. He never focused on such childish preferences like picking favorites but if his dearest angel saw him as such, he’d have no objection. Unlike his little brother, he wouldn’t outright brag like he knows he would but he’d definitely show it in more subtle ways…like actually reminding him through whispers and then later getting into a fight with him. Something that Nero and others have had to stop several times. Otherwise if it’s towards the others, he doesn’t bother to actually show off…not verbally at least. If anyone payed attention, they’d notice his demeanor seemed more confident. Acting more haughty than usual. If he wasn’t the favorite however, he’d like to think he’s indifferent towards it. Thinking he has better things to do than be jealous of not being your favorite…but then he realizes he’s just as attention hungry as everyone else and tries to make you pick him by performing much more whenever you choose to play as him.

“Your favorite?…I see. I have no need for such childish titles but if my dearest angel sees me as such, I won’t object to it.”

“…huh…and to think I was above such jealousy..no matter. It’s only a matter of time until I prove I’m more worthy of your bias, my dear”

Nero Sparda and Kyrie- the couple would be rather flustered and surprised that you’d pick both as your favorite and not separated. Didn’t you obsess over Nero the most?? Well, not like they minded this, they don’t think they had the heart to be jealous over the other and something tells them you’d feel bad if you choose to favor only one of them too! Their little angel was so sweet. Ahem- anyway. They’re glad to know you like them that much, often gushing about it -mostly Kyrie- between the two of them. Nero, though, would try and brag about it to the rest of the cast, with Kyrie trying to stop it as to not cause any trouble. If they weren’t your favorites though, they’d support one another in coming up with ideas to change that! Nero would do his best to outperform the others in combat (like father like son, after all), Kyrie would do her utmost to do her best performance while singing (she remembers you saying you liked her voice after all). However sometimes, they’d sneak in some extra cutscenes to give you more time with them. Smiling at the other when you’d give them attention and gush over them. It made their efforts worth it

“They…like the two of us? As their favorites??” “Yeah!! Isn’t that great, Nero?” “I-I guess so, Kyrie…” “They’re so cute! I’m sure they didn’t choose only one of us because they’d feel bad” “Yeah. I can see that…poor snowdrop”

“Shit, we’re not their favorites?” “Aww…oh! Maybe I can sing for them more! They said they liked it, didn’t they?” “Yeah…and maybe I can amp it up with the combos” “Good idea!! And we can give them more cutscenes of us!!” “Atta girl Kyrie. Let’s get to work” “Right, Nero!”

Trish- she’s be amused if she was you’re favorite. By all means, she doesn’t hate it, but she finds it funny how -how was it, ah right- “down bad” you were for her. Even though you knew she was just a demon based on Eva’s appearance, you didn’t treat her as such and never compared her to the human woman. You fell for her and her only…she loved it. She saw no need to brag about your bias towards her, but if any of the cast mentioned it she saw no issue in reminding them of your favoritism. Like Vergil, she’d show it in more subtle ways like acting more confident than usual. If she wasn’t though, she’d try to include herself in the game more often. Giving her little spark more content of her since they always seemed to gush over her the little times she was on screen.

“How sweet…do you really like me that much, little spark? I’m honored~ I really do appreciate it…thank you, my dear spark. For seeing me as me..”

“Hm…it seems like I need to work harder to have your eyes on me for a little longer, little spark. No matter…I’ll make sure you’re shocked by my skills”

Lady- she’d be startled by it, if she was your favorite. Like Trish, she doesn’t have much content, mostly interacting with her little doll through brief cutscenes or if you played as her in Dmc4 during her time in Fortuna. But seeing you gush over her and spoil her in red orbs is…nice. She supposed it wasn’t bad. She didn’t see the point in bragging about it, but she’d seem more cocky than usual. The way she carried herself seemed more elevated, as if your bias towards affected her entire demeanor (though the same could be said about everyone else). If she wasn’t your favorite, however, she’d be agitated. She wants her little doll’s attention, damn it!! And she’s not above playing dirty to get it. Whether that means she has to manipulate the code to mess with others or amp up her ammo and make it easier to play with her, she’ll do it. Anything to get her doll’s gaze on her and her only

“I’m your favorite…? Tch, whatever. Guess it ain’t that bad, dolly. I could get used to it..”

“HUH?! What d’you mean I’m not their favorite?!…fine! Guess I gotta take things into my own hands then. I’ll have your eyes on me soon enough, little doll”

Nicoletta Goldstein- she’s off the fucking walls. Her little Tinker Bell picked her as their favorite?! Oh that’s rich! She’s gonna be bragging it in Nero’s face any time she can. A lil’ ol’ mechanic like her? Who ain’t even playable and she’s the bias? She’s having the time of her life. She’s flattered that she was picked, appreciating the ways you’d stick around the Home Screen to see her for as long as you could before staring the next mission or a new run of the game. If she wasn’t a favorite though, she’d shrug it off. She’s not that typa’ girl who would get stuck on that kinda thing (unlike the rest of cast). She’d just go on about her work like usual and if she happened to impress you, then that’s good enough for her!…wouldn’t stop her from messing with Nero’s equipment though. Just a little bit, that’s all

“Well I’ll be! I’m the little Tinker Bell’s favorite! Ain’t they the sweetest thing?…fine fine, go on to your next mission boys. I won’t hold ya’ back any longer. Heh”

“Hm…so the favorite’s someone else, huh? Whatever, their choice not mine…won’t stop me from messing with Nero’s gear though…heheheh…”

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

Hi, can you maybe make a part 2 of the daughter of mundus where she was later kidnapped and locked away by mundus as another form of punishment. Like in a place where you are in darkness and pain. Vergil and nero seeing she was telling the truth because i believe they deserve an happy ending

Yes they do. They do.

Vergil x Mundus's daughter!Nero's mother!Reader headcannons part 2

For context, part one is here.

-You had been trying for God-knows-how-long to get your husband and son to bond with you, like a proper family.

-Vergil was reluctant to participate, and Nero had spent so much time on his own that he no longer cared. Besides, he had found his own special lady and wanted to spend more time with her than with a "mother" he never knew.

-You even asked for Dante's help, and he gave it a good effort, too. He helped you organize a pizza party, plan get-togethers, and even called them on your behalf, but they just weren't cooperating.

-You spent many nights crying yourself to sleep, wondering why they wouldn't just try to be a family, just for one day? Or even an hour? Why? Why?! You apologized genuinely, you helped them in any way you could, you tried so hard, but they wouldn't accept you, and you didn't know why.

-At least Vergil came around one day and said that he didn't have a kid with you for no reason, before taking off without saying anything else.

-One night, as you lay hopelessly in your bed at 3 AM, staring up at the ceiling with teary eyes, you heard a crash from downstairs and foolishly assumed it was Vergil coming by to say some more vague shit before he left again.

-You were, put simply, feeling quite angsty, and when one feels angsty, one tends to ignore danger, which in this case, came in the form of a legion of Angelo type demons who had taken you by surprise—and kidnapped you, too.

-For what it's worth, you put up a good fight, but there were just too many of them, and it was all so sudden. Before you knew it, you were being hauled back to Hell in chains, fully aware of the disasters awaiting you.

-Mundus was not happy to see you. Ironic, considering how hard he fought to get you back. It took over twenty years and many troops, but he finally did it. The old bastard had you back in his clutches, and he was more than eager to punish you for escaping.

-You didn't get the luxury of a trial or anything; in Hell, everything is determined by the demon king, and he has decided you deserve to be imprisoned in darkness, never to see your "beloved", whom you risked everything for, or your son, who wouldn't even care you were missing.

-To be honest, staying in isolation like that didn't feel any different than your life before, in terms of your social life. The only things that were different were the fact that it was cold, there was nothing to eat, and absolutely nothing to do.

-It took your boys a while, but they finally realized you'd been forcibly removed from this world, and they were concerned. Sure, you hadn't been the greatest mother to Nero, and yes, you sucked at communicating with Vergil, but the former owed you his life (literally, since you gave birth to him) and the latter felt he should do something anyway.

-So, after gathering the rest of the crew, the Spardas charged into Hell to rescue you, and though it was a tough battle, they did it in the end.

-Seeing you on the brink of death thanks to starvation and dehydration really made Nero and Vergil realize what it could mean if they lost you. As if a light switch had been flipped in their dense heads, they suddenly became enlightened, understanding that although you had made many mistakes earlier in your life, all you'd been doing since you were reunited was trying to make things right—and they'd pushed you away. Not to mention, you were right all along. If you hadn't run away to distract your father's forces, they would likely be suffering the same fate you were now.

-Vergil felt the guiltiest because he had the opportunity to prevent all this, but didn't take it. He could have waited a little longer for you to come back. He could have tried finding you sooner. He could have accepted your apology and tried to be a good father and a good partner, or at the very least, he could have checked on you more.

-Once they get you back home and get you on the road to recovery, neither Nero nor Vergil will leave your side for any reason. They just sit there, by your bedside, staring at you.

-When you wake up and appear to be in good enough condition to speak, Vergil is the first to apologize with a short, succinct, "I'm sorry, Y/N."

-Nero follows up with a somewhat sheepish "I'm sorry too...Mom," that last part being added not out of obligation, but because he felt like he should make an effort to improve your relationship, just like you did.

-Then Vergil pulls you into a hug, which was only awkward because of the fact that you were lying down and he was sitting up, and Nero decides to shake your hand because he doesn't know what else to do. Although very few words were said, the three of you all had attained a mutual understanding, an understanding which seemed to say, "let's try being a family again."

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

Hello! Can I please make a request for some heavily angsty headcanons for Vergil about his s/o being Mundus' daughter and her also being Nero's mother?

Absolutely!

Vergil x Mundus's Daughter!Nero's mother!Reader headcannons

-Because of the stuff your dad (Mundus) put him through, Vergil was very wary of you when you first met, which was likely in Hell.

-He gave you the cold shoulder most of the time, not wanting to get involved with someone related to his greatest tormentor.

-Through perseverance and by trying very hard to demonstrate how you're not going to hurt him, you managed to prove yourself to Vergil, convincing him that you're not like your father and that you only wanted to help him escape.

-Obviously, your dad knows everything that goes on and was aware of your attempts to make Vergil open up to you. He didn't care at first, thinking you were just having some fun with the half-demon, but then he saw how your relationship was becoming more and more serious, and heard you talking with Vergil about leaving.

-It's an understatement to say he wasn't happy about the idea of you leaving, and threatened to kill Vergil if you kept contacting him.

-That was the last straw for you, and so you decided you would escape from Hell with Vergil. The journey was difficult, and both of you got injured along the way, but you made it in the end.

-After taking a few days to rest, recharge, and recover, you guys ended up drinking too much alcohol to forget the pain and eventually spent the night together. This is how you got pregnant, but you didn't know about it until much later.

-You thought that you and Vergil could go find a nice, quiet place to settle down, hopefully keep out of the public eye and maybe even get married if you were lucky, but your father, Mundus, had other plans.

-He sent some of his servants after you, convienently chosing the middle of the night to do so, forcing you to flee without even getting a chance to say goodbye to Vergil.

-You thought you could explain what happened later, when you returned, but the demons chased you out of the freaking country, and when you finally lost them, you were lost too.

-By the time you managed to sort yourself out and secure passage back to where you and Vergil were staying, he was gone. Though you didn't know it, he'd woken up in the morning, assumed you'd worked up to this point just so you could get in his pants and run away. Hurt, he immediately began packing up and left as well.

-You never got to tell him about the mortal danger you were in thanks to your father, and he had no idea about the son you were now carrying.

-Sadly, you'd hardly get any time to spend with your son either, because once he was born, your impatient jerk of a father (now a grandfather with the advent of Nero's birth) sent his demons after you again, and you were forced to leave him with an orphanage while you fled for your life, distracting the creatures from your son's existence.

-Orphanages shuffle kids around a lot, so by the time it was safe to come out and get your son back, he'd been transferred so many times, no one could remember where he went, and after years of searching, your last lead was found to be an orphanage that had burned down in a tragic accident; all records were destroyed.

-You would never have a happy family reunion until Nero was all grown up, and even then, there were misunderstandings, accusations, and a lot of explaining on everyone's part.

-Vergil was still very hurt, and for a while, refused to believe what you were saying was true. Nero was mad at you for abandoning him when he was a baby, even after you explained yourself, and gave you silent treatment for weeks. It seems that no matter what you do, the boys just won't give you a second chance. In Nero's case, the shock is damaging, and Vergil has carried resentment for years.

-There really may be no saving this family.

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

can you write a vergil x platonic reader where vergil meets dante's daughter in dmc5 and she seems really interested in yamato but feels shy when she wants to talk to vergil and always hides behind dante when she sees him? Thanks!

Oh, totally! Enjoy!

Vergil x Niece!Reader platonic headcannons

-Well, today was not Vergil's day, that much is for sure.

-First, he got his ass handed to him by another version of himself, then met up with his lame brother and an annoying, surly youth who looked remarkably familiar, only to find out that was his son, which made even less sense than the fact that he had been turned into what is essentially a powerful tree.

-Now there was a strange little girl who'd just appeared out of nowhere, who didn't seem to be frightened at all by the nasty creatures that were so abundant, and worse, seemed to be very interest in him.

-More specifically, she was very curious about his sword. She kept staring at it, like it held all the secrets to the universe that only she could decipher, but not once did she utter so much as a word about it. Not once.

-Vergil was honestly starting to get uncomfortable, having this unusual little girl just stare at him unblinking from the sidelines, and finally made up his mind to pause his fight with Dante to ask him who the hell that kid was.

-"Where did you find such an...unusual girl? Is she a demon?"

"Weell....you could say that. Only by a quarter or somethin' like that."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that little badass is my daughter."

-Vergil can't believe it. All of a sudden, everyone's having kids these days. He may not be wrong in wondering if Dante's kid has a kid of her own at this point!

-After momentarily putting aside the fact that he and Dante were just locked in deadly combat, Vergil decided to approach his niece whom he had never met before, only for her to run away and hide behind her father, sticking her head out to peek at him only occasionally.

-Dante began laughing after seeing this, and in between giggles, tried to coerce his little girl (that's you, in case you haven't figured it out) to go and say hi, but she wouldn't.

-No amount of coaxing, cooing, or half-hearted smiles on Vergil's part would convince you to come out of your makeshift hiding spot. You refused to so much as look at him until he shifted his sword around and returned it to its place at his side.

-Your interest in the Yamato did not escape the ever attentive Vergil, so he tentatively offered the sheathed end of it to you. Dante thought he was planning to stab you, and moved to grab it first, but you finally stepped forth from your hiding spot at this action and grabbed the sword yourself.

-Vergil begrudgingly let you hold the sword and admire all the fineries of its design, but kept a close watch on you to ensure you didn't try to unsheathe it and hurt yourself.

-Before long, Dante deems it safe to step back and lets you and his brother literally sit down on the "ground" of the upper Qliphoth get to know each other over a sword.

-You just seem to really like swords, Vergil realizes, as you ask all sorts of questions about the blade and the hilt, and the "funny ribbon" on the sheath.

-When Nero finally gets there, all devilled up, he finds his dad and his cousin nerding out over a weapon that used to be his right arm, all while Dante watches and smiles from afar.

-Later, Vergil asks if he can switch offspring with Dante. He'd like to think he'd do better at raising a daughter who had more refined tastes like himself than a rough-and-tumble son who was honestly less like him and more like his brother.

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

ASLEEP

♡. multi, smut mdni, somno, dubcon

It was your doing.

You told him while you were drunk, that, having sex while being asleep would be so hot. You stared at him and laughed but he didn't. until you passed out on him.

But now your wrists are cuffed to the headboard. Ankles spread. Breathless and trembling in the dark. And his head is between your thighs like he belongs there.

You woke up to his mouth on you — soft, slow licks that turned hungry fast — and you’re soaked, overstimulated, mind already fogged.

“H-Hey—f-ah-fuck—”

He doesn’t even look at you, just kept going eating your pussy like a starved man. Humming as you woke up

“Yes, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your swollen clit, voice wrecked with lust. “You said I could. Remember?” you didn't remember, your memory from being drunk was all hazy and blurry. But you couldn't care right now. All you wanted was that orgasm that was coiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Feels good... don't stop please" your body trembled at his touch, making you whimper

Your back arches as his tongue flattens again, dragging through the mess he’s made of you. His fingers grip your thighs tighter, holding you open as you sob, twitching, close to breaking. Your hands pull against the restraint but it's no use. You don't want to run from him but it's overstimulation. Physically and visually. The sight of him going at you is too hot.

“You taste better when you're all shaking n' crying,” he groans. “Look at you — trembling for me, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

Your eyes roll back. You cum again, legs spasming.

He doesn’t let up. Just keeps eating you like a man starved — until your thighs are numb and your vision goes white at the edges.

And the last thing you hear before you slip under again is his voice, low and reverent:

“you should be careful with what you say, doll”

TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @mihyas-dieehefrau @ravenbc @shezuannn @greekyoghurtwithberries @laslowchan

A/n: quick drabble before i lock in tmr. i still have to finish my bllk masterlist, the second part

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

TOXIC

LEVI X READER

A/N: a combination of the horny angst that’s been swirling in my head for a few days.

Listen. Do I condone what’s about to happen in this? No. Was it fun to write? Absolutely.

CW: MDNI • explicit sexual content below • toxic fucking • unprotected/raw sex • creampie • breeding kink • fucking does not solve problems • neither do babies • toxic Levi and toxic Reader tbh

This was a bad idea. Terrible; one of your worst to date.

And yet, as Levi spread you out across his kitchen counter — the counter that, until two weeks ago, had also been yours — you couldn’t for the life of you remember why every alarm bell in your head was sounding off, begging your body stiffen, to reject the man lowering himself between your thighs, his gray eyes glowing nearly silver with desire.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?” His lips are hot and silky as they slope messily across your thighs, and his fingers push aside the hem of your sundress to make way for him. “Because try as you might, you know no one will ever be able to fuck you like I can.”

Ah. That was why.

Because you and Levi had broken up. You were no more; a past concept, a memory.

In the end, your three-year relationship died not in a fiery blaze of glory, but in cold resignation. He’d sat stoically at the kitchen table as you’d confessed that you could no longer stomach being second or third or whatever place behind his true passion — work — and that it was time for you to put yourself first, for once, since he wouldn’t.

The only sign of his emotion has been his fists — clenched so tight that the skin of his knuckles had gone white.

I’m done. I have nothing left to give you, Levi. Not when you only ever take and offer nothing in return.

He’d tried to argue once you announced your intention to move out that night. He’d fought to convince you to wait until morning, to put away the small suitcase you’d packed with your most essential belongings, to sleep on it — on the decision overall. But you’d known that if you’d stayed, you would have changed your mind — would’ve let him change your mind, and he’d known that, too. So you’d held firm, turned your back on him and forced yourself to walk out of the door to your apartment, suitcase in hand.

You hadn’t intended to return, and it seemed like he’d accepted it. He’d even gone so far as to mail whatever of your belongings you hadn’t managed to pack to your parents’ address. So though you spent your nights staining your pillow with bitter tears, your heart feeling like little more than a misshapen lump of meat barely beating in your chest, you’d at least gotten what you thought you’d wanted: a clean break.

Until he’d texted you that all of your mail was still being sent to your — his — address. He’d offered to pay to have it forwarded to you, but when you saw how much that would have put you in his debt, you’d begrudgingly told him you’d stop by on your way home from work and pick it up.

Really, you knew better; should have known better, at least.

And perhaps your logic would have won over your desire, but then Levi’s fingers tug your underwear to the side and his mouth latches to your core, and all the chatter that constitutes your higher reasoning fades to an indiscernible buzz in the back of your skull. The moment you feel something hot and wet prodding your entrance, your mind whites out without the hope of coherency returning any time soon, as Levi begins to fuck you with his tongue.

With a keening cry, your legs seize around his head, trapping him between your thighs. Your hands shoot to grip his hair, desperate to find purchase; to find anything to help keep you tethered here, to reality, rather than risk floating away in clouded bliss.

But Levi is too committed to tearing down the wall you’d carefully spent the last two weeks building, brick by brick. So as his tongue pumps steadily into your core, he shifts, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he presses you harder against his face. His jaw works furiously and when his teeth graze against your clit, you lose whatever last vestige of control you’d clung onto.

You’re sobbing through clenched teeth but utterly helpless to stop your hips as they begin churning and grinding against his mouth. Levi hums in approval, and throw your eyelashes, you spot the way his pupils dilate, chasing away the cool silver of his irises and replacing them with something black and hungry.

“Atta girl,” he praises between his thrusts, and the vibrations of his mouth against your heated, sensitive flesh nearly makes you drool. “For once in your life, stop fuckin’ thinking.”

He swirls his tongue around you entrance one more time before he replaces it with his fingers, plunging two into your cunt and curling them. He finds that rough patch on your innermost wall with a near frustrating ease.

It’s infuriating to know that the person you know can’t give you what you really need is somehow the only person who knows exactly how to give you what you want. And, judging by the faint smirk pulling at Levi’s lips they latch around that bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, you know he can see your resolve crumbling under his feverish mouth.

“You don’t even remember why we were arguing, do you?” He jeers between harsh sucks at your clit as you continue to writhe and cry out for more. “You just wanted to cause a scene; make me sweat a little.”

You want to fight back; you want to tell him that he’s wrong, that you’d meant it when you’d said your relationship had run its course, but he won’t give you the space to do so. Not when he presses his face firm against your center and rocks his head side to side, reducing any protestations you might have had to pitiful whimpers.

“You’ve got my attention, sweetheart. Let’s see if you know what to do with it.”

Levi slips a third finger into your core and you come undone. With his teeth grazing your clit in time with each measured thrust of his fingers into your heat, you shatter against the kitchen counter, hard enough that stars dance in the corners of your eyes.

“That’s my girl,” Levi groans as he continues to lap at your sensitive and overstimulated flesh. “You’re always so fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

His praise, coupled with the way his mouth continues to work at your cunt prolongs the waves of your release, until your legs are trembling against the smooth granite of the countertop, and tears are gathered in your eyes. Your walls spasm weakly one final time and then it’s over, your limbs limp and your brain little more than a puddle of liquid between your ears.

Levi steps back and the heat in his eyes is unmistakable; you know, by the way his eyes turn from steel to molten ore that he wants more; wants to take and take and make you bend to him.

You shouldn’t do it; you know you shouldn’t. You know that what’s happening between you is a manifestation of everything that was toxic about your relationship. Levi, always needing to be in control, who only listened when you were at your breaking point, but could never fully give you what you needed. You, who made far too many excuses, who let him dictate the norms of your relationship because it was easy; being with him was easy, until it wasn’t.

So no, you shouldn’t give in; you should stand firm.

You reach for him anyways. “Levi,”

That’s all it takes; a pleading whimper of his name, your hands outstretched toward him, and Levi pounces. His mouth crashes against yours, and his kiss makes you feel whole even though you know he’s tearing your resolve apart.

And you let him; you let him, because you’d sworn you were going to spend your life with him. You believed, without a moment’s hesitation, that Levi was the one for you — the one you’d share the remainder of your days with, the one with whom you’d create and share a family. It was all you’d wanted, and Levi, to his credit, had assured you it was what he’d wanted, too. At least, he did; once.

And, as Levi’s hands slide under you to peel you off the counter, your legs locking around his waist with practiced ease, you know it’s what you still want; he’s what you want.

For all your desperation to have him, Levi is just as eager for you. He pivots you away from the counter, lips still moving heatedly against yours, only to drop you both to the cold tile floor, spreading you out beneath him as his lips begin trailing down your jaw, your neck. He’s too impatient to carry you to the bedroom, his hands fumbling with the buckle on his belt so he can have you then, now, on the kitchen floor.

“‘S been too long,” he pushes the straps of your sundress from your shoulders, yanking the bodice down to expose your. He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, and idly you wonder whether you made the subconscious decision to forgo your bra when you dressed that morning, in the event you’d end up here, under him.

His mouth closes around one pert nipple and you think it was the best decision you could have made; for nothing could possibly feel as right as the sensation of his hot mouth and silken tongue swirling around your soft flesh, nipping and sucking his devotion into your skin.

Your chest is heaving as his hands stroke down your body, pushing and pulling the skirt of your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. Your legs are still little more than jelly thanks to the intensity of your previous climax, but you manage to wrap them around his hips all the same, clenching in an effort to bring him closer.

“Fuck,” he growls, and he imparts one final nip at your breast before he pulls back, his hands hurriedly shoving the waistband of his trousers and briefs down his hips, just far enough that he can pull his cock free. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, ramrod hard, his tip already leaking with his desire.

He’s just as desperate for you as you are hopelessly in need of him.

Your eyes trace back up from where his length stands hard against his belly back to his face. A pretty pink blush has flushed his cheeks, spreading down his neck and chest, and his eyes are glassy with want.

“Levi,” you plead with a soft moan. “Baby, please —“

Baby. You hadn’t called him that often while you were together, but when you had, it was because you’d been so filled with affection — with love — that his name hadn’t been enough.

It was a slip, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by your ex. In an instant his body is covering yours, and he’s moaning into your mouth as one hand ensnares itself in your hair. Between quick kisses, you swear you hear him whisper your name against your lips, before his tongue swipes back in and steals your breath away.

He breaks your kiss to shove a hand between your bodies, gripping himself at his base and giving his length one, solid pump. You shift, spreading your thighs wider, ready to take him and feel whole once more.

He lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance and pauses. Impatiently, you buck your hips forward, trying to take him in, but he twists back just far enough that your wetness can only brush against him, a mockery of how you truly need him.

Levi ignores your howl of frustration. “If you want it, then tell me you’ll come home.”

Your teeth clench hard enough to crack, but you won’t give in; not yet, at least.

He’d been right; you wanted him to sweat a little, and damn if you weren’t going to try and bring him to his knees, if only for a bit. At least until he had you back in the palm of his hand, begging for a crumb of his attention.

So with a gritty determination that borders spite, you lock your ankles against his backside and haul him into you with all your might.

“Jesus — fuck!” His yell echoes off the gleaming stainless steel appliances as you force him fully inside you, unwilling to let him win this battle so soon. He falls forward, an arm flinging out beside your head to catch himself.

Your boldness pays off, for Levi is forced remain still, panting hard and his eyes screwed shut as he adjusts to the sensation of being fully buried in your warmth after so long. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way the muscles in the arm needed by your head ripples under the force of his restraint. Slowly, his eyes open and the darkness in them makes you pulse and contract around his length, your stomach fluttering in anticipation.

Your mouth falls into a perfect “o” as he begins to move once more. He sits back on his knees, back straight, and his hands come to rest on your hips. He tugs you up just enough that your backside rests against the tops of his thighs, your back forced into an arch away from the floor. His gaze drops to where you’re connected, your base pressed flush against his, and the sight of himself embedded so deeply inside you makes the fingers on your hips tighten.

Slowly, and with careful precision, he withdraws his cock from your heat until only his tip remains lodged in your entrance. His eyes flick to yours and then he slams back into you, forcing your breath from your lungs. He repeats the movement again and again, until your lower lip is wobbling and your fingers are sinking into the corded muscles of his forearms, unable to do anything but cling on as he hammers into you.

The stillness of the kitchen is soon disrupted by the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your breathy moans and Levi’s pants. Between the sharpness of his hips and the cold tile of the kitchen floor, you know you’re likely to walk away from this with bruises, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. Especially not when Levi is moving like this, each of his thrusts as punishing as they are calculated.

“What’d I say, huh? No one can fuck you like I can.”

Levi more often than not was a soft lover. Kind; generous; prone to taking his time with you, so much so that it was nearly painful, usually leaving you in a tearful puddle on your mattress, begging him for more.

But now, he’s trying to remind you of what you’re leaving behind by leaving him; he’s punishing you as much as he’s begging you to stay.

The thought makes you moan out, wanton and desperate, and the walls of your cunt clench harder around him.

His hips snap harshly against yours, choking off the sound in your throat. “So come back home,” and though you know he means for it to sound like an order, his eyes betray his urgency, his desperation to confirm that you hadn’t really meant it; that you’d given up on him in a moment of stress and exhaustion. “Quit being a brat and come home.”

You want to tell him you can’t — that the door had closed on your relationship the moment you’d pulled it shut behind you that day, but try as you might, the words will not form. All that spills from your mouth are broken utterances of his name, and even those flatten out into pathetic whines as Levi’s callused thumb finds your clit and begins to work, determined to haul you to the edge of your sanity and shove you over.

Your legs spasm around his waist as you begin your ascent to that sacred precipice. Your eyes are rolled back, your head thrashing from side to side as the pleasure, white hot and searing, mounts within you, that coil in your belly winding tight with every impassioned movement of his body against yours.

Distantly, you feel his hold on your hips tighten, and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppy. You know it’s only a matter of time before one of you succumbs to your release.

He growls your name, the last syllable tapering off in a small whine. “T-tell me — fuck — tell me where.”

Your eyes fly open and meet his, sobering awareness washing over you like a tidal wave.

Only once in the entire course of your relationship, did Levi ask where he was allowed to cum: the beginning. He’d asked the very first time you’d slept with him, legs in the air and over his shoulders, and once you’d made it clear you were on birth control, that had been the end of the discussion. You’d known that if you’d changed your mind, all you’d needed to do was tell him, and he’d adjust. Truthfully, however, you’d not minded the possibility of your birth control failing; you’d been content to let whatever happen, happen.

You’d told him as much, and he’d told you he shared the sentiment.

But that was then; this time, he’s giving you an out. A way to make sure this remains a one-time thing, a moment of weakness between two people too lost and broken to want anything different.

Levi’s eyes widen as the silence stretches between you, and his hips slow until he stops moving all together. The friction mounting where you’re connected is nearly unbearable, and you know the only way to relieve it is to give him an answer — whatever it may be.

This was it; the decision that will make or break you both. For once, he’s out the ball entirely in your court, and whatever comes after this moment of bliss — or frality — ends depends entirely upon you.

“Inside,” you barely manage to squeak, eyes wide and locked unwaveringly with his.

Even Levi hesitates. “Y/N —“

“Inside,” you repeat with slightly more conviction. “Cum inside me, Levi.”

“Your pill?” His hips have already resumed their pace, and you can feel how he’s grown harder at your insistence. But though his body is already moving in accord with your demand, his eyes look ready to bulge out of his skull when you manage the smallest shake your head.

“Inside.” You beg again, and you dig your heel harder into the steely muscle of his backside, limiting how far he’s able to pull his hips back; to pull out at all.

Because damn if he isn’t the only person in the world with whom you could fathom facing the consequences of fucking raw without even the safety net of the tiny blue pills still sitting at your pharmacy, waiting.

“Fuck,” he growls through clenched teeth, a tendon in his neck throbbing. “Fuck, you want me to give you a baby? So fuckin’ be it. As long as you’ll stay.”

He shifts over you, planting one foot on the ground so he can use his thigh to pin one of your legs back and to the side. His hand shoves under your other thigh, mimicking the position of your other leg as he mounts you, his full weight pressing you harder into the floor and keeping you spread wide for him.

Gone was the calculated precision of his earlier thrusts; now, Levi only presses his groin firmly against yours as he begins to rut, each rock of his hips pushing his length impossibly deeper into your slick warmth.

A cracked moan of his name signals that the blunt tip of his cock has brushed up against that spot within you that Levi knows will have you coming apart in minutes. And so, with a feral gleam sparking to life in his eyes, he shifts himself to press the head of his cock firmly against it, his hips rolling hard enough into you that you begin moving in time with him, your hips lifting up from the floor only to be pushed back by him as he works.

His balls are heavy against the underside of your ass as he continues to rut into you. You know he’s close when you feel him begin to twitch inside you, and the anticipation of being filled by him — so hot and sweet — makes the walls of your cunt clench harder around him.

If you thought you were a mess before, the way Levi mounts you on the floor has you nearly screaming with pleasure, so electric and blinding that all sights of the kitchen fade to white, and your eyes flutter shut.

But Levi won’t allow you to check out; not now, not ever.

“Look at me.” His free hand grabs your jaw in an attempt to force you to meet his eyes. You want to give him what he wants, but it’s far too difficult, what with the way yours are glued to the back of your skull, a thin line of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.

“L-Levi,” you try and plead, to explain. But he has always demanded more of you than you knew how to give.

“Look at me.” His fingers squeeze your cheeks, insistent. “If you want my baby, then you’re gonna look at me while you cum.”

He’s doing it to prove a point — to prove that he still has control over you, over whatever it is that remains between you. And you, helpless against the whims of your heart, let him have it, because you love him.

Fuck. You love him.

You force your eyelids open to meet his punishing stare, and then his lips are crashing down against yours in a fiery clash of lips and teeth as both of you fight to consume the other. But you lose first, breaking your kiss to cry out as your climax slams into you with the force of a freight train, knocking your breath clean from your lungs.

It’s powerful; the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in memory, one that sends your back arching sharply up from the cool kitchen tile below, and pulls a howl of Levi’s name from your mouth.

You’re still straddled among the clouds of your pleasure when Levi succumbs to his own. His body tenses for a moment and then he’s coming undone, his hips giving one last, mighty push before he explodes.

He cums with a strangled groan that he silences by searing his mouth against your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin as he pulses within you.

You don’t try to stop the pleasured grin that forms on your mouth, nor the contented hums which vibrate in your chest as you hold him close to you, savoring the feeling of being warm and full of him.

You know you might regret the decision later; but there, spread out across his — your — kitchen floor, Levi’s full weight bearing down upon you as he continues to flood you with his release, you can’t help but feel that maybe this wasn’t the toxic choice at all. Perhaps this is simply a manifestation of everything that is good in your life.

Good. That’s what you decide to tell yourself as you feel Levi’s lips press sleepily against your neck. This is good; this is right.

Because this — he — is your home.

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

Ahh ok so dmc 4 Nero around his crushhhh. Like we have seen how much of angsty and moody teen it was, so I think it is gonna be super hard for him to be around his crush as one hand he wants win over them while on other he don't want to leave his comfort zone (which is just being a loner). Do you think he will break the character if like his crush asks him to accompany on his roaming around the town?? (Btw love your account, finally Nero getting the love he deserves yesss 💐)

public date with (dmc4) nero headcanons‼️✨

i think this was what you were asking for... feel free to correct me if not!! will totally make another post :3

and yes i agree!! nero deserves way more love and attention than he gets <3 pretty sure i've read every fic and oneshot this site has to offer lmao i had to resort to ao3... tumblr is my default for fics and stuff bc i still struggle to navigate ao3 😭 i'm glad you like my account!!! thank you!!!!! 💙💙💙

g/n!reader

he's very awkward for sure. doesn't know what to say or how to act

he brings you flowers!! he's a little blushy too, he gets really flustered, especially when you smile

he's head over heels and trying so hard not to show it 😭 it's really cute actually

if you're just roaming around town, he kinda just. follows you around

he doesn't care where you guys go, he just wants to be with you!! he gets really busy sometimes and doesn't really go to mass (if you tend to go to mass, he sometimes will as well but it's kinda rare because he'd honestly rather just rest)

overall he's kind of the same, but a bit less foul-mouthed (unless you're the same way). you'll find that he "breaks the character" more if you guys are alone

these kinda suck grrr i'm sorry omg

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

Writting this to tell that Nero's purring had turn like drugs to me. Minor inconvenience in world and I will read it, to cope up and feel better 🫩🩷🦋

all my purring headcanons for nero‼️✨

they're just repeats but i wanted to compile them (most of them are copy/pasted, sorry i'm in the car 🥀) for you bc im glad you like them sm <3 it's one of my fav headcanons for him fs

g/n!reader

PURRS. HE PURRS AND YOU CAN'T CHANGE MY MIND. also the fucking cat activation noise if you wake him up. he's just a big cat actually

i said it before and i'll say it again—he makes the cat activation noise if you wake him up while he's dozing off!!

sometimes starts purring in his sleep if you stroke his hair or rub his back or something. again, he's just a big cat

rubs his face on you like a cat, usually while purring

rubs his face on you like a cat and purrs right in your ear because cuddling makes him feel so safe and happy

once you knew the truth (about his devil bringer) and promised not to tell, he let loose and just cuddled you and started purring

his purring is usually pretty quiet and kind of airy. he's just a chill guy! but it gets louder if you rub his head or his back or anywhere really. again, huge cat!

it doesn't matter where you cuddle, he loves you so much and you make him so happy that he just starts purring against his will

kneads you like a cat because he highkey is one. and he's purring the entire time.

and a couple i haven't posted!!

his purring is way louder when he's in dt. play with his hair or scratch his chin or something and he's purring like a fucking motor

purrs on your stomach if you get your period and cramps are bothering you

[im-just-a-simp-le-whore]

Hi! I just came across your account and instantly fell in love, especially with the sex headcannons since they’re really accurate. So I wanted to make a request for Izuku Midoriya if you could :)) Thank you!!

ღ izuku midoriya —sex headcanons

1. soft, but dirty mind

He starts shy. All blushing, stammering, asking if you’re okay…but once he’s inside you? All bets are off. “Y-you feel so good… I can’t stop… I don’t want to stop.” And when you moan his name? He gets a little faster, a little rougher.

2. obsessive praise kink

He can’t stop talking. “You’re so beautiful like this…” | “You take me so well…” | “I-I can’t believe you’re mine.” He’s panting, voice breaking, begging you to believe him.

3. possessive, but doesn’t know how to say it

He leaves marks he doesn’t mean to, bruises on your neck, little bites on your neck. Then whispers apologies into your skin while pressing into the bruises again. He wants people to know you’re his, but he’s too shy to admit it until you tease him. “I want them to see it. I want them to know you’re my girl.”

4. nervous dom energy

He’ll sometimes pin your wrists and push you into the sheets. But his voice? Always breathless and hesitant. “Can I move? Is this okay?” And the second you whisper “Yes, Izuku, please,” - he takes you like he had been waiting years for it.

5. cries when it’s too good

When you ride him, slow and deep? Tears spill from his lashes. He clutches your hips, biting his lip hard enough to bleed. “Y-you’re… it’s too much… too good. I can’t.”

6. mutters dirty thoughts like they slip out

When you’re under him, thighs spread, whimpering for more he starts rambling. “So wet for me… s-stretching around me so perfectly… god, I wanna come inside you so bad.” Then he blushes hard because he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

7. insecure but trying so hard to please you

“Did you like that? Should I go slower? Harder?” He’ll finger you for hours if that’s what it takes. He studies you like a science experiment just to learn exactly what makes you fall apart.

8. freak in the sheets, but only for you

Everyone sees the sweet, nervous hero. But in bed? He can be filthy. He wants to tie you up with his gloves. Lick you until your thighs shake. Grit his teeth while he comes too fast and then apologizes while going again.

9. super strength kink

Once he realizes he can hold you up with one hand? Game over. He’ll take you against a wall, one hand under your thigh, the other cradling your face. “D-don’t worry. I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”

10. aftercare king

He whispers soft praises in your ear while cleaning you with gentle hands. “Do you need anything? I’ll get water. A snack. Anything.” You’re wrapped in his arms while he hums against your shoulder. And when you fall asleep? He watches you like he’s never known peace until this exact moment.