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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 1 year

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Where There's a Will, Right?: Dante x Male Reader

SUMMARY: After Dante’s successful defeat of Argosax, he’s been ever-so-slightly more talkative than before; at least, that’s what you think. Both Trish and Lady noticed that Dante’s mood hasn’t improved and, if anything, he has only become more distant. Upon telling them that they’re wrong, they both tell you something that sends your mind reeling.

MINORS DNI--Seriously, go away >:[

BEGINNING NOTES: ✨Dom/Top Dante* x Male Sub/Bottom Reader *Takes place between DMC 2 and 4 on the timeline; meaning Dante’s a bit angstier than normal--kinda Vergil-esc but he gets closer to normal at the end. ✨Unestablished relationship but everyone (including Dante) knows that you have a thing for him ✨The reader lives at the shop ✨Mentioned dark topics (nothing in depth but Dante having been suicidal is mentioned a few times) 🍊🍊🍊 ✨Fluff ✨Angst (? kinda) ✨Smut; Dante’s first time--the reader’s body count is not specified but it is implied you aren’t a virgin--meaning he is very sensitive to your touches. ✨Biting--draws blood and enjoys it. ✨Rougher--It’s not great but I wanted to try writing something a bit rougher, experimentation if you will.\ ✨Oral--Dante receiving ✨Reader gets emotional afterwards; like sad fluffy stuff. 🍊🍊🍊 ✨A little self-indulgent. I could’ve written this as G/N (and if anyone wants a re-write, I can totally do so) but I wanted something a bit gayer than normal smh ✨I know absolutely dick-diddly about motorcycles, so you best believe I just googled all of it lmao ✨Not used to writing Trish or Lady so they might be a bit OOC; if anyone has any better ideas for how they should sound (if they sound off) please let me know! I want to try and use them more often. ✨The reader uses Revenant (as per usual) and Ifrit. How can you use those wonderful gauntlets? You are just stubborn or strong enough to resist their demonic nature; idk just let me have this lmao. Demons are from DMC 1, 2, and/or 4 (Also I didn’t really feel like writing too much combat since “Bound by Blood” is so combat heavy, kinda got bored with it lmaoooo). ✨THIS IS NOT A PREQUEL TO “Deep Regret” THAT FIC. IS STILL IN THE WORKS (AND IS REALLY ANGSTY LMAO)

“Really?” Trish leaned against the wall of the garage, watching both Lady and you work, “You sure we’re talking about the same Dante?”

“What?” you set down the socket wrench and looked over at her, “Don’t believe me?”

“No, not in the slightest,” she mindlessly looked at her nails as she continued, “I don’t think I’ve heard Dante say more than five words at once in years and you’re telling me--”

“That he and I talk all the time?” You stood up, wiping your hands on your jeans, "I mean, we do live together-- what's so hard to believe?"

Lady laughed, catching your attention, “Well, Dante’s not exactly the talking type anymore,” the raven-haired woman turned from the workbench, “Can’t say I blame her, hun.”

“But that’s where you guys are wrong,” you sighed, “I mean, he’s not super talkative but we can hold a conversation for a good while,” you walked over to the stairs, grabbing your open beer on the way, and sat down with a huff, “You’re telling me that he doesn’t talk to you when you are on a job or anything?”

Lady shook her head, “Do you know how rare it is for him to even say “hello” anymore?”

“Bah,” you made a dismissive flick of your hand, “You two are full of shit, there is no way he’s that quiet.”

Trish said something under her breath as she crouched down to check the work you'd done.

“Huh?” You cupped your ear in a joking manner, “I’m getting deaf in my old age, Trish--you gotta speak up.”

“I said,” she stood up and turned to look at you, “Maybe it is because Dante loves you.”

Beer shot out your nose as you choked on it, going wide-eyed feeling flustered beyond belief.

“You can’t tell me you don’t have a thing for him,” the blonde walked over to Lady’s workbench, pushing up on the edge and sitting on the tabletop.

“I do not!”

Lady shook her head, “It is painfully obvious that you have a crush on him,” she leaned her side on the bench, facing you, “I’m sure he knows, too.”

“How is it obvious?! I mean--” You pursed your lips knowing you just dug your own grave.

The women shared a laugh before Trish answered, “The two of you are practically joined at the hip.”

Lady then jumped in, “He won't do anything without telling or asking you first.”

"You're the only one allowed in his room."

"And the only one that can use his weapons without him getting pissed, especially Rebellion."

“Dante stares at your ass a lot.”

Once again, you choked on your drink.

Lady laughed at Trish’s comment with a shrug, “Can't fault him for that, you do have a nice ass.”

The sound of the roller garage door being lifted caught everyone’s attention. In the doorway stood the very topic of the conversation with a few bags of groceries in his arms.

“Welcome home, Dante!" You shot him a warm smile, "How'd shopping go?"

Dante stared at you then at the women, “Why are they here?” His voice was cold and flat, his typical way of speaking nowadays.

“Oh!” Your voice was semi-cheery as you stood up, tossing the beer bottle in the nearby trash, “They stopped by right after you left. Asked to use the workshop for a bit.”

He stared at them for a few more seconds before walking through the garage, past you, and into the shop.

Lady grumbled to herself before sticking out a hand, gesturing at where he’d gone, “See! I told you!”

“You two are looking too deep into it. Dante doesn’t,” you shrugged, “you know…”

“Bullshit!” Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, “I swear-- if the two of you don’t hook up soon, I’m going to--”

A quiet sound of a door being cracked open cut her off. Dante looked at you and quietly mumbled, “You coming?"

“Huh? I-- Yeah,” you smiled at him, “I gotta finish the oil change and I’ll be in, okay?”

He said nothing and shut the door.

Trish slid off the bench with a sigh, “Come on, let’s give the lover boys their room.”

“Try not to break ol’ Dante," Lady jested as she picked up her tool bag, "He’s not as spry as he used to be."

You flipped her off and she stuck out her tongue in return. As they left you meandered back to Dante’s bike, you couldn’t help but mull over what the girls said.

“There’s no way that they are right,” your brow furrowed, “Dante is-- well, Dante. He’s a ladykiller, not into men… right? I mean, he has a mountain of bikini girl magazines-- ”

Lost in your thoughts, your hand slipped and you dropped the open bottle of oil, “Son of a fucking bitch!”

You snatched the bottle as quickly as possible but the damage was already done; over half of the contents were now in a black pool on the floor. A dejected grumble left your lips as you laid on your back, staring at the ceiling of the garage with a forearm resting across your forehead.

“Everything okay?”

“Hmm?” You tilted your head up slightly and saw that Dante was standing right at your feet, “Yeah… Just my good ol’ butterfingers…” Your head hit the concrete again as you sighed and looked at the mess, defeated.

His eyes trailed over to the oil on the floor before he wandered off. You propped yourself up on your elbows and saw Dante had grabbed the cat litter.

“You don’t have to--” He looked at you for a moment before dumping the litter on the spill, “Thanks, I-- Sorry, that was like a brand new bottle,” you leaned up in a sitting position, “I promise I’ll clean it up and replace the bottle.”

“It’s fine,” Dante stuck out a hand, helping you up.

As you got to your feet, you fell into him a bit and found yourself leaning on his chest. Your face instantly became hot as you froze. Strangely, Dante made no move to push you off of him or remove you, he just stood there and waited for you to do so yourself

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your space, hah…”

Dante didn’t say anything, but rather, he grabbed your hand and pulled you inside the shop. On his desk was a box of fresh hot pizza and a few cold unopened beers.

Which in hindsight, you aren’t sure how he got the pizza. He didn’t have it when he entered the garage. Unless he got it delivered at the exact moment he got back… Or he had already stopped back in the foyer of the shop only to come around back to “interrupt” your conversation--but there’s no way he would do that, right?

“So,” you grabbed a slice and sat on the edge of his desk, “What’s the special occasion?”

“ ‘was hungry,” he grabbed a slice for himself and sat in his desk chair, putting his boots up on the tabletop.

A look of shock spread across your face, “Really?"

“What?”

“It’s just,” you shook your head, “I’m just glad that you’re eating, is all," you smiled warmly, "It's nice."

The red devil stared at you for a moment before continuing to eat.

Ever since defeating Nelo Angelo, Dante’s “human” habits had gradually deteriorated. He wouldn’t sleep, bathe, or even eat; any and all self-care was put on the back burner. You had to force the poor man to take care of himself--which is much easier said than done.

At one point, things got so bad that Trish acted more human than Dante. There was a small ray of hope, however; since Argosax’s defeat, Dante had begun to regain some small bits of life. He’d been bathing more often, eating every once in a while, and even smiling again. Most importantly, however, Dante hadn’t tried to off himself in almost six months which was a victory in and of itself for the tormented man; this, by extension, made you feel a little more at ease that the chance of you coming home to Dante on the cusp of death had slimmed significantly.

“Hey,” you pursed your lips and waited for him to look at you in acknowledgment, “Do you care if I turn on some music?”

He shrugged, "Don’t care."

You hopped off the desk edge and waltzed over to the "well-loved" machine. Hitting a random track--and praying to god it worked--you went back to your resting spot against Dante's desk. The two of you sat and ate together, listening to the jukebox and enjoying the quiet company.

===

A loud knocking at the front door of the Devil May Cry woke you up. You must've fallen asleep downstairs. Across from you, in the middle of the room, was the coffee table with a TV that had been playing a DVD’s menu screen for only god knows how long. You were on your side and resting on the floor, in front of one of the couches… Even though there was an open couch adjacent to this one.

A large blanket was draped over you and onto the furniture behind you. That's when you heard a snore and realized why you weren't on the couch. Dante was fast asleep and face down against the coffee-colored pleather. Goosebumps ran up your spine as you realized that his arm was across your chest, his fingers loosely grabbing the fabric of your shirt. Carefully, you slipped away from the sleeping devil and let out a soft groaning yawn as you stretched.

Another set of knocks.

You sighed and stood up, walking over to the door, opening it.

“Ah, good morning Mr. Morrison,” you smiled tiredly at the man, welcoming him into the shop.

“You know, you make me feel old when you call me tha--” he stopped and stared at Dante, who was still asleep on the couch.

A small huff of a laugh came from your nose as you whispered to Morrison, “I know. Shocking right?”

His volume matched yours in return, “That would be an understatement," he turned to you, “Sorry to wake you but I have a job for the two of you that requires immediate attention,” he held out a manila folder.

“What is it?” A flat voice asked, making both Morrison and you jump.

After the two of you took a moment to calm down from the unexpected voice, the broker walked over to Dante and handed him the file, “Huge swarm invaded a nearby city--didn’t even have time to evacuate.”

You walked over to Dante, peering over the edge of the file. He noticed your interest and scooched over to one side, allowing you to sit beside him. As you attempted to read, you found yourself leaning towards your partner, squinting harshly at the small text. Dante moved closer to you causing your sides to touch; which, despite how many times he’s been this close (and closer) to you, never failed to make your heart race.

As the two of you looked at the file, you couldn’t help but remember what the ladies had said yesterday; how stony he is to them compared to how acted with you. Dante might be a bit cold but he has his sweet moments--even if it’s him sharing paperwork filled with pictures of hundreds of demons and a destroyed cityscape.

You whispered to Dante, “So, wanna do it?”

His eyes flicked to you before he looked over the file once more, “Fine.”

“Sweet!” With a jovial smile, you grabbed the paperwork. Your eyes flicked up at Morrison who moved to the edge of Dante’s desk, leaning on it with a lit cigar--as per usual, “We’ll take it!”

The broker shook his head with a small smile, “I’m beginning to think you enjoy these types of jobs.”

“Actually,” you stood up and walked over to him, “I do. Don’t have to worry about destroying things," you handed him the file which he grabbed.

He laughed softly and shook his head, taking a puff of his cigar, “You two are quite the pair.”

You tilted your head in confusion; that’s when you felt an exhale of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end.

“We takin' the bike?” Dante’s voice was low and his warm breath lightly tickled your ear.

“Y-yeah,” you turned your head to the side and were only inches away from the sultry devil.

His turquoise eyes locked onto your gaze for a few seconds before he gave a flat, “Ok,” and went upstairs to get changed.

Once the youngest son of Sparda was upstairs, Morrison laughed as he stood up from the desk, “I’ll let the city know you're on the way. You two be careful,” he nodded goodbye and headed for the door before stopping, turning his head over his shoulder to you, “Don’t forget that there is still a lot of people trapped and--”

“And we should try and help them, don’t worry,” you winked at him, “Dante and I got this.”

Morrison opened his mouth but said nothing; instead, he continued out the door whistling a tune to himself.

You raised a brow at the odd action but decided it was not worth dwelling on.

Humming to yourself, you made your way up to your room. One of the spare bedrooms of (The) Devil May Cry that you were “only staying in for a few months”... that was over a decade ago. A smile tugged at your lips as you reminisced about a time long since passed.

===

Rain quietly beat on the roof of (The) Devil May Cry as the well-loved jukebox played quietly in the background. It had been exactly a year since Dante had officially named the shop and begun to take jobs as a demon hunter. Sitting at the large wooden desk was said devil hunter without a shirt on, only opting to wear his pants and boots. His arms were placed neatly on the top of his desk with his head resting on them, facing down at the tabletop, snoring happily. A half-eaten pizza and several empty beers were scattered about, painting the same old scene that he partook in night after night.

That’s when you showed up in his life.

You burst into the shop, stumbling and out of breath; leaning against the door, holding it shut.

“We’re closed,” Dante didn’t even open his eyes.

Before you could reply, obnoxious loud banging and shouting could be heard from the other side of the door. Dante raised a brow and tiredly looked up at you, curious as to what was pursuing you so fervently. The shirtless young man’s ears twitched as he made out what was on the other side of the large wooden door; it wasn’t demons or devils, it was humans. A mob of what sounded like fifteen to twenty people that were spouting off insults that ranged from vaguely rude statements to flat-out death threats.

Dante sighed, standing up from his desk with a huff. Casually, he grabbed Force Edge from the wall it was resting against, walking over to you.

You, of course, were terrified, debating if it was better to take your chances outside. Bursting into some random dude’s shop was dumb but you didn’t expect a smoking hot white-haired man (who was possibly the owner) to approach you with a massive gothic sword.

He flicked his hand telling you to move off to the side, which you fearfully obliged. With a warm, soft, friendly feeling, he smiled at you revealing his oddly sharp teeth, “You’re gonna owe me for this,” your face instantly became flushed in embarrassment.

Dante opened the door wide open and stepped out of the shop, the large blade resting on his shoulder. As he slowly went down each stair, the mob backed up away from him, “I’m only gonna say this once,” his voice was cold, loud, and angry, the complete opposite of what you’d just heard, “Get lost.”

One of the group’s men decided to act tough and approached Dante, “And if we don’t? What are you gonna--!”

The red devil grabbed the man by the face and held him up, not phased by the man’s struggling, “You know, I hate people like you,” his fingers tightened, “People that just don’t know how to listen.”

Muffled complaints came from the man as Dante’s fingers tightened further before tossing him at the others, knocking several of them over. They helped each other stand back up but none of them moved to leave.

“Now scram,” Dante’s brow furrowed, “Last chance before you really start pissin’ me off.”

With that final warning, the group ran like the wind and disappeared. A small laugh came from the red devil as he re-entered the shop.

“So,” Dante set Force Edge back where it was, “What is a guy like you doin’ being chased by a mob at this hour, huh?” He leaned against the edge of his desk, folding his arms.

“I uh,” your face became hotter and hotter as you looked at the smiling man, calling him stunning was an understatement. It didn’t help that he was lightly soaked from the rain which was dripping down his body, emphasizing his physique, “I just pissed off the wrong folks, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Dante pushed off his desk and wandered over to you, “That why you smell like gunpowder, blood, and demons? Or’s that some sort of weird cologne?”

You froze.

“You know," he continued, "it’s not every day I get to meet someone in the same line of work as me,” he now stood in front of you, his hands stuck in his pockets and a casual tilt to his posture.

“I-- What?”

Dante’s smile widened, “You’re a demon hunter, right?”

Your expression said it all, making the young man laugh.

“Now,” he turned from you striding over to the corner of the room, “as payment for waking me up from my nap,” the white-haired man stood near one of the couches, grabbing his black long-sleeve shirt off the back, “You’re gonna take me with you to finish your hunt.”

As he slid the tight fabric over his body, all you could do was stare. Not only was watching him get dressed semi-erotic, but, the idea that you’d finally met someone else who enjoyed demon hunting like you do was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“That’s what you were doing right?” The red-clad man raised a brow as he slid on his vest, buckling the straps.

You blinked back into existence with a nod, “Yeah, you sure you want to come with? It isn’t exactly a small job, and,” you avoided his gaze, “it’s not only demons.”

“There are cultists, too--I know,” Dante slid on his gloves, “Figured that out the moment I saw ‘em outside,” he tossed his coat on, adjusting the lapels.

“O-oh…”

He meandered over to the same sword from earlier, placing it on his back, “So,” he raised a brow, “We doin’ this or what?”

You smiled sheepishly, “Sure.”

“Ah… Almost forgot,” Dante turned around and opened a desk drawer, grabbing his keys, “Here, catch,” he tossed you a box of shells, “Those work?”

“Really-- I- Yeah, why are you..?”

Dante began to walk out the door, you right behind him, “Can’t do all the work myself, babe,” he turned to you with a smile.

After he locked the door, you led him to a building that was right outside of Red Grave; it was an old abandoned apartment complex. The two of you made quick work of the job; given, it was half-finished from your earlier attack.

Despite not even knowing each other’s names, the two of you fought together quite well. Neither of you got in each other’s way. When you did interact, it was damn near perfectly choreographed; as if you’d known each other for a long time.

“You know,” Dante dodged a Death Scissors, “You’re pretty good at this.”

“Oh yeah?” A small amount of playful sarcasm loomed over your words, “I’m still not impressed with you,” you ducked underneath a Frost’s attack and shot it right in the small of its back, “mister white-haired stranger.”

“Eh,” he used Force Edge to slice three Abyss in half, “Had to leave you something to fight.”

Both of you shared a laugh and stood in the middle of the room, looking around at the carnage. Dante turned to see a cultist trying to escape. The red devil pointed Ebony up and shot the human, much to your dismay.

“Hey,” you shoved his shoulder, “You stole my final kill.”

“Oh,” he holstered Ebony and turned to you, “Didn’t see your name on ‘em, sorry.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and sighed, “Thanks for your help,” you avoided his eyes, which were trained on your face, “I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Dante smiled, “This was fun, been a long time since I’ve had a partner to work with,” he stretched his arms upwards, cracking his shoulders, “Lady’s been off doing her own thing lately.”

“Lady?” You raised a brow, suspicious of the red devil’s seemingly fake person.

“She’s an old friend,” Dante and you began to descend back down the building’s stairs. It wasn’t until the two of you got outside before he spoke again, “Hey, so,” his voice was quieter than before, “You work by yourself all the time or?”

“Yeah,” you sighed and placed a hand on the back of your neck, “Never been able to find someone who’d join me on a hunt.”

“Well,” Dante put his hands in his pockets, “If you want, I’ve got an open spot at my shop...”

“Really?”

“Mhm, haven’t had a partner in a while and could use the company.”

You laughed.

“What?”

“I don’t even know your name and you are offering me a job?”

The red devil stuck out his hand, “Name’s Dante.”

You smiled and shook his hand, “Well, Dante, I think I’ll take up that job offer,” you sheepishly turned your head away and mumbled, “I think I could use some company, too.”

===

“You coming?”

A sudden flat voice from your doorway made you jump with a loud startled shout. Quickly, you turned around to see Dante, fully geared up, and leaning against your doorframe with his arms neatly folded.

“I- Yeah, sorry,” you shook your head, “Just lost in thought.”

Dante stood up, saying nothing, and headed back downstairs into the garage.

With pursed lips, you continued to get ready; that’s when it hit you. Dante must've been standing there for quite some time, watching you; you who was standing in bagging half falling off underwear the entire time. Your face became hot, the idea of Dante seeing you this exposed was enough to make your mind reel. Shaking off the growing hot feeling, you shoved yourself into your hunting gear; which included Dante’s Ifrit and your shotgun, Revenant.

Upon reaching the garage, you saw that Dante had already started the bike and was waiting outside for you to join him. Although you weren’t sure, you swear it looked like he was smiling at you; only hinted at by small creases in his cheeks. You joined him in the alley with a stuck-out hand, waiting for Rebellion, which he gave you. As you slid the sword on your back, you flashed a wide smile and playful wink at Dante. Then you mounted the back of the bike and a heavy wave of embarrassment filled your face as you firmly placed your hands on Dante’s waist.

Without a word, Dante kicked up the stand and you were off. As you held onto him, you couldn’t help but lean further onto his body, your face against his back. His cologne was that of lemongrass, lavender, and a light dusting of patchouli. You took a deep inhale, sighing longingly at the comforting scent; which didn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired hunter.

The two of you arrived shortly at the nearby city. Once both of you dismounted the bike, Dante stuck his hand out--mimicking what you’d done earlier. With a smirk, you pulled Rebellion off your back and held it out in front of you, blade facing down and your fingers tightly wrapped around the grip. The red devil grabbed the sword, making sure to just barely ghost your hand with his in the process.

A bright blush adorned your face as you gave him a small content laugh and looked at the less-then-happy scene before you. To say that the place was crawling with demons would’ve been an understatement.

An irritated long groan came from you as you slumped forward, “Those pictures must’ve been old; this is so much worse,” you looked over at Dante who was staring at you, “Wanna call in the ladies?”

“No,” he turned from you and began to walk toward the city.

With a baffled sigh, you shook your head and jogged to catch up to him, walking right beside him.

When the two of you got to the edge of the zone, a large platoon of soldiers was along the city’s edge. As expected, the two of you were approached by the armed people and questioned as to why you were there.

You sighed softly, “We were hired by the city to come in and exterminate the infestation.”

A mixture of various “bullshit”s and “no way”s were heard throughout the platoon. A greatly unamused Dante slyly reached down and grabbed one of your fingers with one of his, a sign he used when he wanted to move forwards.

“Just stay out of our way,” you shoved past the soldiers, Dante right beside you. Before you got too far, you stopped and turned to the men, “Wait about thirty minutes and start sweeping this end of the city for survivors, continuing further inwards; we’ll have most of the demons cleared out for you.”

Once more there were various forms of ill-natured or overly skeptical comments from the crowd; but, after all these years of hunting, it was expected at this point. The two of you just continued onwards, Dante’s finger still wrapped around one of yours.

It didn’t take long for you to encounter a horde. At first, you were excited and readied Ifrit; however, Dante has taken up to not allowing you to fight anything more than Misras or Frosts. Today was no different.

You vocalized your irritation (as you had done many times before) but it always fell on deaf ears, Dante simply didn’t care. Things came to a head when you were nearly finished with the job and the red devil had been nearly gutted by a group of demons but he still wouldn’t let you fight.

“Dante,” you furrowed your brow as the two of you walked on, “Could you at least let me kill something? I’m getting bored with fighting small fries and playing cheerleader.”

The red devil stopped and looked over at you, but said nothing.

“Come on,” you made your best puppy dog eyes and stuck out your lip in a pouty manner, “Please?”

“I can handle it,” he turned to continue on the path, “You are a human; humans are fragile.”

“Excuse me?” You walked beside him, “You forget you’re human, too?”

“I can heal within seconds,” he glared at you from the corner of his eye, “You can’t.”

You moved your jaw in thought, mulling over things before speaking again, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should push yourself like this,” the red devil’s head turned slightly, indicating he was listening, “Just ‘cause you can heal…” You reached out and lightly grabbed his bicep, “I’m your partner, remember? I’m here to help you.”

Dante stopped and pivoted to look at you. His brow was slightly upturned and his eyes held an odd unplaceable emotion, “I know.”

A small sad tilt decorated your brow as you lightly squeezed his arm before letting go. You had an inkling as to why he acted this way but had never been able to be sure; hell would have to freeze over before you’d get a clear answer from the red-clad half-breed.

The two of you entered the center of the city where the demons seemed to have come from. In the middle of the large leveled area was a large mass of sorts. Both of you knew exactly what it was, the start of a demon nest.

Almost as if on cue, an insurmountably large quantity of demons revealed themselves. The two of you split apart. Finally, you were able to fight something decent and were relishing in it. Your targets were, for the most part, Blades and Gladiuses; which wasn’t that big of a challenge but it is better than nothing. A smile shot across your face as you got to have some fun with Ifrit for the first time in years.

In the complete opposite of an over-strained Dante trying to deal with several Plasmas and Blitzes.

You had nearly finished up your half (well more like two-thirds) of the horde and destroyed the budding nest before you noticed Dante struggling. Quickly, you killed the last of your targets and rushed over to help the red devil, who had just been thrown through a building.

“Dante!” You kneeled down by him, “Hey, you alright?”

“I’m… fine,” his voice was strained as he tried to sit upright, only to bare his teeth with a grimace.

“Stay here, I’ll take care of this,” you stood up but found that your wrist was ensnared by Dante’s grasp.

“No,” he attempted to stand again.

“Dante, I can handle them,” you tugged your hand away, “Let go of me, please.”

His expression was blank as his fingers only tightened around you.

“Dante…” Now, you are starting to get irritated.

“I can handle them, just let me do it,” he stood up and you saw that his ribcage had concaved, clearly broken.

“No Dante-- You are in no condition to fight right now,” you pursed your lips, “I can finish this,” giving him one last chance to let go.

“No, I am fine.”

“Goddamnit Dante!” You snapped at him and yanked your hands out of Ifrit’s gauntlets, removing Dante’s grip on you, “You’re always protecting everyone else, so please, for once in your life,” you stalked over to Rebellion, which had been stuck in the ground nearby when Dante attempted to stop himself, grabbed it tightly and turned back to him, “Let me protect you.”

His eyes widened, showing a mixture of confusion and anger, but you didn’t give him a chance to refuse. You had already gone off and were slaying the rest of the demons using Rebellion. If Dante wanted you to stop, he could have recalled his sword; he should’ve recalled the blade but, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to.

Although you were still concerned for Dante, you couldn’t deny that you were having the time of your life. You'd only been allowed to use Rebellion one other time on the field, which was shortly after being hired at the DMC. The feeling of wielding such a mighty blade was insurmountable; not only that, but the frictionless feeling of slicing through demons was damn near erotic. A wide smile spread across your face as you finished off the final few demons, pinning the final Plasma down into the ground using the blade.

“You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“You’re just jealous that I got more kills than you,” with a playful shake of your head and a small laugh, you pulled Rebellion back out of the ground and turned around. Dante had healed and was giving you quite the venomous glare, your expression dropped, “What?”

He aggressively grabbed the sword from your hand, placed it on his back, and turned to walk back the way you came, “We’re leaving.”

You bent down and picked up Ifrit, sliding the fiery devil’s gauntlets back on, “Huh? We haven’t done our sweep back--”

“Now!” His voice was much angrier than you’d heard in a long time, so you remained silent and followed behind him.

The walk and ride back to the shop were eerily quiet. Neither of you said a word, not even to the soldiers that you passed in the city. During the bike ride, you did your best not to latch onto the red devil and held onto the bike itself--which wasn't exactly comfortable or easy, but you were pissed off and didn't care.

As the two of you entered the shop, you had thought about saying something to the devil but weren’t going to give him that satisfaction; no, you just silently went up to your room and slammed the door behind you. Leaving him in the foyer, alone.

Doing your best to ignore the guilty feeling in your gut, you hopped in a quick shower and took a small unintentional cat nap on your bed right after. Around an hour later, you woke up and groggily wandered downstairs to get a glass of water--and to see where Dante had gone. As you looked around, you pursed your lips in confusion. Dante typically after a job would just get drunk at his desk or on the couch but he was nowhere to be found. It was rare for him to actually go to his room; but, then again, it is even rarer for the two of you to have a disagreement or fight like this. A sigh left your lips as you traversed back to your room. A small amount of regret lingered at the edges of your mind for using such harsh words at the poor devil.

Mindlessly, you had wandered to stand in front of his room and stood there with your hand up, ready to knock. After a minute you decided to put your hand back down, hoping that maybe he’d be the one to come to you and apologize for once. With a heavy sigh, you entered your room and turned the light on, then nearly had a heart attack.

There, sitting silently on the edge of your bed, was Dante in his boxers and a long-sleeve black baggy shirt. His forearms were resting on his legs--one of which was bouncing nervously, his hands intertwined as he mindlessly twisted and played with his fingers, and his gaze fixated on the floor.

“Uh… Dante? Everything okay?” You shut the door, set your glass of water down, and slowly walked over to the bed, sitting beside him.

“You remember why I hired you?” His voice was soft and sad, something was wrong.

You shook your head, confused at the seemingly out-of-nowhere question, “Huh?”

“Do you remember why I hired you?”

“Because you said you needed company..?”

His lips twitched at the answer; however, he said nothing and just stared at the floorboards in front of him.

“Dante?” You gently and cautiously grabbed his forearm, making his leg stop bouncing.

His voice became even softer, becoming barely audible, “Do you regret it?”

Your brow softened as your fingers gripped him tighter, “Dante…”

His brow furrowed as he moved his jaw for a second before giving you a sad huffed laugh, “I wouldn’t blame you if--”

“Stop,” you stood up and moved to stand in front of him, then knelt between his legs, “Look at me,” his eyes coyly met yours as you grabbed both his hands, “I have never regretted anything I’ve done with you, nor will I ever.”

A small quiver found its way to Dante’s lip, “Why?”

“What do you mean why?” You gave him a bittersweet smile, “I like being with you, Dante.”

He opened his mouth but no sound came out, only a crack and a small whimper as tears filled his eyes. Then you did what you should’ve done the moment he started talking, you stood up and enveloped him in a tight hug. Dante quickly wrapped himself around you. The red devil’s fingers dug into your back and grabbed generous handfuls of your shirt.

Half-formed sentences and choked-up versions of “I’m sorry” are all that he could manage through the unwavering barrage of tears. All you could do was hold him tight and tell him that everything’s okay--that he doesn’t have to apologize, not for breaking down like this. Gently, you kneaded against his shoulder blades and placed one hand in his hair, petting him. You noticed his hair was wet; which, not only meant that’s where he was when you were searching for him but, this was the first time he'd taken a real shower in nearly three weeks. It seemed like a lifetime had passed before his tears began to slow, eventually boiling down to just small hiccups.

However, his hold on you didn’t loosen, if anything, it got tighter. You had placed the side of your face against the top of his head and quietly hummed, hoping to comfort him.

“Hey…” Dante’s voice was thick and quiet, a hint of nervousness ghosted his words.

“Hm?”

“Would it be okay to stay like this? Just for a little longer…” He waited with bated breath for your response.

“Mnmm… How about this,” you pulled back from him, making him hesitantly release you. A small warm smile tugged at your lips as you straddled his lap and re-wrapped yourself around him with your legs around his middle, “This okay?”

Through your shirt, you could feel Dante hum with a small smile, “Mhm,” his arms regrafted themselves to your body as he pushed his head into your body.

The two of you sat together for nearly two hours, Dante softly purring against your skin as you lightly rubbed his back and played with his hair. If the front door hadn’t opened, the two of you would’ve stayed linked together for much longer.

“I’ll get it,” you slid off his lap but were stopped by Dante grabbing your wrist.

“Do you have to?” His expression was oddly shy, which sent a sharp pang of love through your heart.

“Join me?” You smiled as you pulled him up. A small surprised laugh left your mouth as you felt him lace your fingers together.

A bright smile adorned your face as the two of you made your way downstairs and found Morrison standing in the foyer.

“Afternoon, Mr. Morrison!” You waved with a small happy noise but realized that he was staring with wide eyes.

“I’m not… interrupting, am I..?”

You stared at him in confusion before you realized how the two of you looked; both of you were semi-disheveled, only in underwear and a shirt, and Dante’s hand was in yours, “No! No- not at all! We-- It’s not what it--”

“You are," Dante released your hand, moving further into the room, “but it is my fault for not locking the door. What’s up?”

A sputtered confused noise left your lips as your face became unbearably hot, mortified at what Dante was implying.

Morrison laughed, “Blunt as always, huh Dante?”

“Why bother lying about it,” Dante leaned against his desk, arms folded casually.

The broker shook his head with a smile, “I’m just here to drop off payment from the job earlier,” he handed Dante a thick envelope, “The client was impressed with how quickly the two of you worked--made sure to get it to you just as fast and added a little extra cash, too.”

“Oh? Really?” Dante opened the packet and counted the cash quickly, “Huh… Thanks, Morrison.”

Morrison did a double-take, taken aback at not only Dante’s words but, Dante’s willingness to talk, “No problem, Dante…” The broker looked over to you with a raised brow before turning to leave, “Sorry for interrupting, I’ll lock the door on the way out. Goodnight you two.”

“ ‘Night, Mr. Morrison!” Your voice was sweet but still had a lingering sense of embarrassment to it.

Dante opened the top desk drawer and tossed the money in it, smiling.

With a sudden nervousness, you approached the pants-less devil and joined him near the desk, “So… What was Morrison interrupting, Dante?”

His turquoise eyes slowly moved up to meet yours, a heavy odd feeling behind them.

Your face became even hotter as you swallowed hard, “Dante..?”

“We were sitting together,” small creases formed on his cheeks as he smiled wider, “Why? Did you have something else in mind?”

Another loud set of sputtered discombobulated noises came from you, unsure how to respond to such a loaded question.

A dark chuckle came from Dante as he meandered over to you, slowly inching you towards the wall behind his desk, then placing a hand beside your head, “Something wrong?”

“No, I--,” you closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to keep yourself from spontaneously combusting in embarrassment, “I’m f-fine.”

He lifted a brow and placed his free hand on your cheek, running his fingers gently across your skin, “I dunno, you seem rather feverish… You’re not sick, are you?”

“I’m just a little warm, that’s all,” you let out a half-hearted laugh, doing your best to ignore the pounding in your chest.

The red devil wasn’t satisfied with this answer and moved his face closer, putting his nose right beside yours, and made half-lidded eye contact, “I don’t believe you.”

Bit by bit, you leaned closer to him, placing your lips as close as you could without touching his. The two of you hovered for a moment before Dante pulled away and turned to look to his right, “Do you mind?”

You mimicked Dante's action in confusion and saw Trish standing in the shop.

“Lady forgot a few things in the garage,” Trish raised a brow and addressed you, “You believe us now?”

“Trish!” Dante’s face was bright red, “Seriously?”

“What?” She placed a hand on her hip, “You do love him, don’t you?”

Dante mumbled something you didn’t quite catch before his voice returned to the previous volume, “Can you leave? You’re kinda killing the moment.”

“Just make sure that you two can work in the morning, we have a contract to do.”

“Trish!”

She gave you a wide smirk and a wink, “Have fun.”

The two of you waited for the garage door to shut before Dante sighed, “Guess the moment’s kinda ruined, huh?”

He sheepishly turned to you, to which you grabbed his shirt and yanked his lips down to meet yours. A surprised muffled grunt came from the red devil as he placed his hand over yours, his thumb slowly running over your skin and removing you from his shirt. Gradually, he regained control over the situation and pushed you back against the wall. His lips were broiling and desperately pushing against yours, almost painfully so.

Dante grabbed the sides of your hips, picking you up slightly, so he could pin you against the wall using only his body and a knee that he had placed between your legs. Your hands frantically grabbed at his body, eventually settling for one hand in his hair and the other groping at his upper back. His hands wandered all over your body, sliding underneath your shirt and touching as much as you as he could.

Eventually, you managed to wrap your legs around his middle and his hands slipped down to support you from underneath your thighs. You cupped his face in both your hands to deepen the fervorous kissing. The red devil bit lightly at your lips, asking to enter your mouth. At first, you didn’t let him and playfully denied him entrance. Dante wanted to taste you and wasn’t taking no for an answer, forcing his tongue inside. His tongue was hot and he wanted nothing more than to explore every bit of your mouth, to devour as much as he could. The unexpectedly long appendage made you jolt and gag slightly in surprise, which made Dante smirk with a small amount of pride.

Only once you were both out of breath did the two of you separate, leaving you with labored breathing and hazy loving smiles.

Your thumbs gently rubbed the stubble that decorated his jawline, “Dante, do you really..?”

He meekly smiled and mumbled, avoiding your eyes in embarrassment, “You think I’d treat anyone else like you..?”

You placed a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you… So much”

A soft huffed laugh came from his nose.

“What?”

He placed a small kiss on the side of the base of your neck, “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

You laughed softly, “Dante,” he looked up at you and you ran a hand through his hair, “You want to know something?”

“Hmm?” He began to purr and melt into your touch.

“Although, there’s obviously more a more emotional aspect now,” you broke eye contact and turned away to avoid his gaze, “When we first met if you had asked me to… ya know… I would’ve,” your face was completely on fire as you regretted opening your mouth.

“Oh?” Using one hand to support you, he used a hand to turn your face to his, “What was that now?”

Your voice was high-pitched and cracked from embarrassment, “N-nothing!”

He had a sultry smirk tugging at his lips as he ran his thumb over your trembling lips, “You know, I thought about asking for that--instead of joining your hunt.”

“You-- you did?” Your face only became hotter with each word.

“Mhm,” Dante put his lips above yours again, “Not every day a smoking hot, sopping wet, guy busts into my shop.”

The two of you connected lips again and Dante’s hands gripped the sides of your thighs harshly, his nails digging into you, and dipped your ass lower to meet his growing heat. A small growl came from the back of the red devil’s throat as he ground his hips against you. Your hands grabbed his shoulders as you let out a small moan from the friction of Dante’s grinding. In response, Dante began to roll his hips harshly against you, shoving you against the wall with each thrust. Your hips jolted from the sudden rough movements and you broke from the kiss, letting out a low hissing groan. Dante, however, wasn’t done tasting you and immediately placed his lips back over yours; making sure to devour each one of your sweet noises.

He turned around and began to support you using only one hand again. With his free hand, he moved his mother’s photo to the desk drawer, closing it softly, and then swept his arm across his desk, throwing everything else off the top--making an absolute mess of the already cluttered shop.

Dante dropped you onto the desk and broke the kiss. Quickly, he removed your shirt and began to bite at whatever he could, making you squirm from the sudden, almost animalistic, aggression. His teeth broke through your skin and Dante excitedly lapped up the crimson lines, letting out a continuous lowly growl. A sharp loud gasp left your mouth as you arched your back towards him in response to him biting your neck; still drawing blood as he did for the other marks. Your fingers dug into him only further encouraging him to do it again.

However, you weren’t about to let Dante have all the fun. You kneaded your way down his torso and to the edge of his boxers. Coyly, you palmed over his bulge with widening eyes. Of course, it was easy to tell that Dante had a nice dick from how visible it is through his pants but you didn’t expect it to get that much bigger.

The sultry devil caught onto your sudden surprise and let out a small breathy laugh against your neck, “What’s the matter, babe?” He ran his tongue along one of the bleeding marks, “Surely you knew..?”

“I,” your mind was blank, “I thought you were a shower, not a grower,” you let out a half-huff half-laugh noise through your nose.

“Oh, just you wait,” a small seductive laugh came from him as he leaned back up to look you in the eyes, “Still not quite there yet.”

You rolled your eyes and casually draped your arms over his shoulders, “You know, just cause it’s big doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how to use it,” you let out a playful low laugh, staring at him with half-lidded eyes.

Dante leaned in, “Oh, don’t worry,” he kissed you again, “I know exactly what you like,” smiling happily.

The two of you exchanged loud pecking kisses, “Mhm, sure you do.”

He stopped and left his lips right above yours, his breath ghosting your kiss-swollen lips, “I can hear things, you know…”

Your eye went wide, “Wh-what are you--”

“Every night, in your room,” he moved to kiss right behind your jaw, whispering against your skin giving you goosebumps, “Begging for me, saying my name,” he ran his tongue along the shell of your ear, “You’re much louder than you think, babe,” Dante gently bit your ear before he leaned back up to meet your gaze.

All you could do was stare back. Admittedly, it had crossed your mind a few times over the years that Dante might be able to hear you but you figured that he would’ve said something by now; especially with how long it’s been since you moved in. The idea that Dante had been listening to you for so long made your entire body hot and threw you for a loop.

Through all your discombobulated noises, you finally managed to sputter out, “Why didn’t you tell..?”

“Because,” he leaned in, intensifying his eye contact, “I get off listening to you,” he kissed your jawline, “I love hearing you come undone.”

A shiver ran up your spine as you completely froze.

The red devil noticed your change in expression and began to panic, “I didn’t upset you--!”

You yanked him down to your mouth, kissing him harshly once more. As you did, your hands ran up his shirt and began to grope at his pecs, eliciting a moan from the white-haired devil. Your nails ran down his body leaving loving irritated red skin, making him groan much louder.

He broke off from the kiss and quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it in a random direction in the shop. When he looked back at you, his heart skipped a beat at the face you were making. Although you were obviously already flustered, your face had turned darker by tenfold and your eyes were wide; staring directly at Dante’s bare body.

“What?” He smiled with a tilt of his head and hips, “Like what you see?”

You coyly reached out to touch his chest again, Dante watching you intently. Softly, you kneaded against him and whispered, “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

Now it was his turn to become red in the face, “H-huh?”

“I said,” your voice returned to normal volume, “You’re gorgeous, Dante…”

He stared at you. Although the red devil plays the confident type, his self-esteem was rather poor, and, to be quite frank, he hated how he looked most days; being reminded of his dead brother every time he looked in a mirror. However, hearing you say something so simple and, yet, so impactful made his head spin and his heart wrench.

You leaned in and placed a string of gentle kisses along his collarbones. As you did, you could hear him purring ever-so-slightly and were able to feel the vibrations through your lips. Eventually, Dante snapped out of his stupor, he slipped his hands into your underwear and found purchase on your ass, groping and kneading against you harshly. Next, you placed kisses up his neck and placed a long kiss against his Adam’s apple, pushing against it slightly; eliciting a groan from Dante.

Now back up at his lips, you connected with him once again. The red devil leaned you back onto the barren desk, without breaking the kiss, and pulled your hips tight to his. Once you were fully laid back, Dante moved down your jaw all the way down to your chest with soft kisses. A loud hiss left your mouth as you felt him bite down on one of your nipples, tugging on it slightly--doing his best to make sure he didn’t give you an accidental piercing.

“Fuck… Dante,” you ran your hands through his hair and looked down at him, he was already staring back at you; something was different, “Hey,” he released his bite, “You-- You alright?”

His brow twitched in confusion and he tilted his head, his gaze thinned.

“Your uh… eyes are--” You pursed your lips, his eyes had become a vibrant burning red-orange

“Oh- Oh!” Dante laughed softly, “Don’t worry about that,” his voice was quiet, seemingly shy, “I’m just excited, that’s all.”

You smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing over his flushed skin. He moved back up to you and stared down at you. His eyes are the exact same as when he uses his Devil Trigger except for his pupils, which are heavily dilated. It was a chilling reminder of how dangerous Dante really is, how much stronger than you he is.

“Are you sure you are alright with me-- with us-- doing this?” His brow was upturned and his voice was filled with a unquenchable lust that made your entire body hot.

“Of course,” you gave him a long drawn-out kiss and bit his lower lip, slowly pulling on it, “I wouldn't have it any other way,” you felt him shift his hips slightly and whispered against his lips, “I want you, please, Dante.”

He nodded and took a deep breath, leaning back up.

Before he could do anything, you sat up and pushed him away lightly with your fingertips on his chest. A sultry smirk tugged at your lips as you slowly slid down to your knees, placing the occasional kiss along his abdomen.

Dante’s breath hitched upon realizing what you were doing, “You don’t have to- ah~” He let out a small groan at the feeling of your lips against his still-clothed cock.

You looked up at him and placed a few more kisses down his trapped shaft, feeling him twitch against you. With almost painfully slow movements you kissed back up his shaft then slid your fingers behind the band of his boxers, pulling them down. His cock sprung up proudly, already dribbling pre-cum.

With a small smirk, you looked up at him and ran your tongue up the underside of his dick, making sure to lap up the small bits of milky fluid. His eyes broke from yours and were staring upwards.

“Dante,” you stopped, making him look back down at you, “Look at me, please,” you leaned back in closer to his body, whispering against his sensitive flesh, “I want to see if you are enjoying what I am doing or not”

He swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, “I don’t know how long I… If I watch you.”

You smiled and let out a sultry laugh, placing a kiss on the underside of his tip, “That’s fine, as long as I get to watch you cum.”

The red devil’s face was bright red, not only from your words but from, watching you give his slit small kitten licks. You made your way down his shaft with slow kisses again, reveling in how much he was squirming from your touch. Once down to his base, you moved to the side--between his cock and the meat of his thigh--and bit down on him, leaving a loving dark mark. All the while Dante was groaning quietly as he bit his lower lip, attempting to stifle his vulnerable noises. In fact, he was biting down so hard that blood had begun to trickle down his chin.

After you felt the mark was dark enough, you placed several kisses on his balls and curled your tongue around his shaft, moving from the very base all the way back up. Slowly, you placed your lips around his cockhead and made sure to watch as Dante released his lower lip, unable to contain himself any longer. Bit by bit you took his length into your mouth, to the best of your ability; it’s not every day you suck an eight-inch cock after all.

Unhurriedly you bobbed your head up and down, making sure to savor his taste and the lewd mewls that he was making. You used one hand to play with his balls, making him buck his hips at the unexpected touch. Cautiously, he placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers just barely ghosting against you. Noticing his hesitation, you used your free hand to push his palm harder against you. As you worked yourself into a rhythm, you noticed that he was moving his hips gently into you, making you take him in ever-so-slightly deeper with each intake.

You placed your free hand on your own dick and began to stroke yourself at the sight of Dante towering above you. He was breathing heavily with half-lidded eyes and was moaning sweet praises; such as “Holy shit” or “Goddamnit”.

After a while, you moved back to kiss down his shaft and his balls. Carefully, you licked his sack and took one of his balls into your mouth very gently sucking on it.

Dante put his hands against the wall, pushing up, and arched his back as he let out a loud unfiltered moan, "Fuckin~~! God~" His fingers clawed through the wallpaper, all he wanted was to grab you and fuck into the back of your throat, but he needed to be careful and have patience; the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

As you released his ball, you lightly ran your teeth against the skin, making him let out another loud moan. You flattened your tongue and ran it up between his balls, making sure to go slowly between them, all the way back to his tip only to generously give his slit more kitten licks.

Once again, you returned to bobbing up and down on his cock, moving a bit faster this time. One of your hands began to fondle his balls again whilst the other wrapped around to hold the back side of his thighs; encouraging him to thrust harder into your face. The red devil caught on quickly to the idea and placed both his hands on the back of your head and began to thrust his hips into you.

Admittedly, it was perhaps a bad idea to encourage him to face-fuck you since he managed to make you deep-throat him; something you weren’t able to do. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes at the feeling. All you could do was wrap both your arms around his thighs and hold on for dear life, hoping he didn’t get any rougher.

Thankfully, it didn’t take Dante long to reach his peak. Your eyes met with his and he let out a thunderous whining moan as his fingers dug into the back of your head, pushing his cock as far into your mouth as he could. As expected, his cum didn’t taste the greatest--caused by his diet or lack-there-of, it was very salty and rather bitter. On top of that, he was choking you and pushing rather hard into the back of your throat but that didn’t matter much; you got what you’ve been lusting after for so long.

The look on his face alone made it worth the probable sore throat in the morning. He was disheveled with his hair falling in front of his face, some of which was stuck to the thin layer of sweat on his brow. His eyes were heavy and even more dilated than before. A dark red stain adorned his lower lip from his own smeared blood. Heavy labored breaths left his ajar lips, giving you a good look at his sharp teeth. You could tell that he wanted you, that he wasn’t done with you yet; which is exactly what you’d hoped for.

You felt him pet the back of your head as you removed his cock from your mouth. With heavy eyes of your own, you looked up at him with your mouth hung open slightly and breathing heavily. He noticed the tears that had finally run down your face and thumbed them off your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands.

Without breaking eye contact, you leaned against one of his hands and took his thumb into your mouth, biting it softly.

Dante’s voice was soft, “Can we do more?”

With a smirk, you let go of his finger and stood up, placing a hand on his chest, “You sure you’re up for it?”

The red devil picked you up, placing his head between your neck and shoulder, whispering in a low dark tone, “My room or yours?”

A shiver ran up your spine, “E-either one’s fine-!”

Dante bit down softly over one of the marks he made earlier in an attempt to satiate some of his growing desires, internally he felt himself becoming increasingly impatient. After a minute of thought, he went upstairs with you still in his arms and kissing your marred skin. Dante decided to use his room; after all, he knows where his lube is--plus he doesn’t have to worry about ruining your bedding, bed, or room in the heat of the moment.

He supported you with one arm as he futzed with the doorknob. You grabbed his face and moved it to yours, kissing him once again. Dante’s kisses were much less innocent and sweet this time; this time, they were overtly lustful and sinful. He wanted to indulge both himself and you in these unholy urges, to make you feel as good as he does; which, come hell or high water, is exactly what he’s going to do.

Finally, he got the door open and pushed it open using your back. Your hands made their way up to his hair, grabbing handfuls of it as he placed both his hands on your ass, pulling you as tight to him as he could. The only light in the room was provided by the sunset that was peaking through the blinds on his window; which poured directly onto the bed. He brought you both to the foot of his bed and laid you down, moving his kisses down your neck and to your shoulder.

When Dante leaned up the sight before him is one that will be immortalized in his jumbled mind. You were a hazy mess and were sprawled out on the untidy sheets. The sunlight gave your body a golden glow and only emphasized how beautiful you are to him. You looked heavenly, angelic almost. A small amount of pity sat at the edge of Dante’s mind, pity at how he is going to stain your pure and holy nature; how this devil is going to destroy you.

He grabbed one of your hands and kissed the back of it, placing genteel warm kisses up your arm and stopping on your shoulder. His breath was hot and tickled your ear as he whispered to you, “I love you,” he placed a long kiss on the side of your neck, “So damned much…”

Before you could speak, he placed a soft peck on your lips and stood up, moving over to his bedside table. You scooched up further onto the bed and Dante climbed onto it, a bottle of lube now in hand, sitting on his knees. To say he looked stunning was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he looked heavenly or if he looked demonic; perhaps he is both a devil and an angel wrapped up in a half-human shell. The sunlight made him appear god-like; between the sheer definition of his frame and the orange eyes that were trained on you, he looked surreal. Said eyes were flicking all over your body, absorbing every bit of you that he could, but he was hesitant; what if he messes things up?

After a few minutes, you sat up and placed a hand on his bicep, “Hey, you okay? We can stop if you don’t want to do more, Dante.”

He shook his head, “No, I want this, I want you. I just--” his gaze broke from yours and mumbled, just barely audible, “I’m nervous.”

You gave him a gentle smile, thumbing over his arm, “You’re doing great, Dante,” you leaned the top of your head against his chest, closing your eyes, “Besides, that’s supposed to be my line.”

He let out a warm laugh and placed his hands on your back, kneading against you.

After a moment, Dante leaned you back down and slid his hands into your underwear. He pulled your last bit of clothing off and tossed it somewhere within the messy room, then he took his own off; leaving you both completely exposed. The red devil then paused in thought for a moment before carefully turning you over onto your stomach.

You peered over your shoulder at Dante. He was staring at your bare form, biting his lip. A small groan left your mouth as you felt him place his warm hands on your ass, kneading. After a moment, you heard him shuffle around and then he sat for a moment. A sharp gasp came from you as you felt him smack your ass then aggressively grabbed the slowly redding side. Dante’s lip twitched into a smirk as he did it again, hearing you let out another moan.

He put both hands back down and groped at your ass, listening to your whimpering beneath him. Admittedly, he wanted to continue teasing you but he was losing grip on his own emotions; fighting back an urge to Trigger. So, he let go of your tender flesh and grabbed the bottle of lube. Instinctively, you put your ass up a bit; laying in a downward dog position. Dante split apart your cheeks and applied a generous amount of lube before slowly running his finger around your hole.

A small buck of your hips back told Dante you wanted him to hurry up so he slid one finger inside you. You buried your face into the bedding in hopes to suppress your voice but were quickly pulled back up by Dante’s hand carefully around your throat.

Through a strained growl, Dante confidently huffed, “I want to hear everything, and,” he leaned down, slowly adding a second finger, and whispered in your ear, “I don’t want you to fake anything.” He kissed the back of your neck, “I want your real reactions, ‘kay?”

Quickly you nodded, laying your head to the side and letting out a quiet groan as you felt his fingers fuck into you faster. Dante curled his fingers towards himself and felt you jolt forwards as you let out a guttural groan. So, he repeated the action and, when you repeated the same response, he continued to do it faster and faster.

Dante added more lube and slid in a third digit and saw that your brow furrowed a bit, grimacing slightly; however, you didn’t tell him to stop so he pushed it in further. As he played with your hole, he noticed you had begun to practically ride his hand. Mindlessly he opened his mouth and began to play with his teeth using his tongue, he found himself distantly regretting waiting so long and wished he had been able to gratify these taboo feelings sooner.

“Dante,” you stared at him from the corner of your eyes, “I want you,” you felt his fingers quicken, making you moan, “Please, Dante.”

The red devil shifted his jaw in thought, still playing with your ass. He wanted to watch you squirm underneath him longer but he couldn’t deny that he was also growing increasingly desperate. With a small sigh, he removed his fingers and gently coaxed you to turn over; laying belly up.

Slowly, he ran a hand down your middle and gently thumbed over your aching cock, and the pre-cum that decorated the tip. You whimpered from the unexpected feeling of your long-neglected arousal. Dante leaned back to sit his butt on his heels and, using some lube, stroked himself to the sight before him.

Once fully slicked up, Dante aligned himself with your hole. A devilish smirk tugged at his lips as he teased you, running his tip along your hole; he wanted to hear you beg as he had heard in secret for so many years.

“Please Dante,” you pursed your lips and rolled your hips, “Please, I can’t-- Please~!”

With a low growl, he pushed his tip inside and you let out a sharp gasp at the feeling.

Bit by bit Dante entered your body. You were doing your best not to tighten your body around the unfamiliar feeling. Admittedly, it made your whole body tingle in delight; never had you had such a large partner--living or plastic--making this quite a new and thrilling experience. It took nearly a minute for Dante to finally be fully inside and both of you were already on edge. You reached up for Dante’s head, pulling him down for a kiss. Your legs rested on the outsides of his hips, allowing him to bend down fully to kiss you. The kisses were slow, loud, sloppy kisses; both of you were a mess.

Dante sat back up, holding you around your thighs, and ever-so-slightly pulled back then pushed back inside. He continued these small careful movements for some time.

“More, please, Dante,” you spoke between heavy breaths, “I don’t want you to hold back,” you flashed him a warm sultry smile, “Do whatever you want with me, Daddy~” You added a playful wink to the end and laughed as his eyes went wide with embarrassment.

Your laughter quickly died down when you felt him quickly pull out over half his length and jab it right back in eliciting you to let out a loud unfiltered moan, “Do whatever I want, huh?” He gave you a dark full-teeth smile, you felt your stomach drop in a fearful arousal type of way.

Dante pulled out almost the whole way and, once again, slammed right back inside. You let out another sharp moan and arched your back at the feeling. The red devil repeated this action until all you could hear in the shop was his balls hitting your ass and you spouting out random jibberish; singing the devil’s praises.

You went to jack yourself off but were stopped by Dante’s hand grabbing your wrist. Without slowing down, Dante leaned down and looked you dead in the eye, “You only get to cum when I say you can, babe.”

“What~Ah~!”

Dante yanked you up to sit on his lap, making hard deep hard jackrabbit thrusts right into your prostate. As he did that, he also had begun to bite over your skin again and his hands hand found their way to your ass; groping it hard. You wrapped your arms around him and held on to him, leaving deep scratches on his upper back. His lips met with yours again for more sloppy wet kisses, his hands slowly traveled to underneath your thighs.

In one swift motion, he had both of you up off the bed and you pushed against his wall. His thrusts had slowed to a moderate pace but were still short, only pulling out two or three inches. You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and bit down on his shoulder. Dante let out a loud sharp unfiltered moan and his fingers dug into your skin, clawing into your thighs.

Once you felt the mark was deep enough, you placed a few more; making sure to mar up each side, and with each bite, you got another frantic moan. You leaned back to admire your work and felt him start making longer, more drawn-out movements, purposefully teasing.

Now resting his head against the side of your neck, he placed a few kisses, “I don’t remember saying you could bite me, babe.”

“Whatcha gonna do about it, hm?”

Dante pulled out of you and the next thing you knew you were being pushed face down into the floor, his hand grasping the back of your head tightly. He re-inserted himself inside you and began to fuck you even harder than before; pulling out to the very tip and slamming into you. Using his other hand, he took one of your arms and held it behind you, pinning it to your back. Your free hand was stretched in front of you and you were gripping the floor with your fingertips, desperately trying to ground yourself.

Admittedly, you were on cloud nine as you felt him continuously re-penetrate your hole. Your legs felt weak and you began to, unknowingly, drop your hips down; which caught Dante’s attention. The red devil pulled himself back out and took you to the bed, laying you face up. He remained on his feet and re-inserted himself, then yanked your legs up and over his shoulders. All you could do was grip the bedding tightly and continue to babble random moaning phrases to him, egging him on further.

This pose didn’t last long, Dante removed your legs and leaned down to you. He gave you a long impassioned kiss before resting his forehead against your chest. One of his hands grabbed yours, intertwining your fingers, and the other found purchase on your cock. With each jab inwards, he jerked your dick in rhythm with his hips. Your free hand gripped his hair, holding him into your chest.

Dante’s voice was ragged and low, almost desperate sounding, “I don’t know how much longer I…”

“Cum inside me, Dante,” you didn’t even need to hear the rest, you knew that he wanted to know what to do.

He moved his head to rest between your neck and shoulder then picked up his pace tenfold, in both his hips and his hand. Your body arched tightly against his and your fingers clasped even tighter around his hand and his hair. It only took a few more short sharp jabs for him to reach his climax, spilling himself deep inside you. Dante’s teeth sunk deep into your skin, breaking it once again, and creating a vice grip on you.

The hot feeling from his cum quickly spread throughout your body as his pace around your cock sped up, the combination of the two soon brought you to your own peak, “Fuck, Dante~!” Your voice was loud and semi-whiney and you pushed your head against his.

A gentle purr could be heard from him at the sound of your orgasm, despite him still having his teeth sunk into you. You gently ran your fingers through his hair and felt as if you were going to cry. The two of you laid connected for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being so close.

Dante carefully removed his bite, making you let out a hiss in pain, and released your hand from his. He leaned up and gently removed his cock from your body, making a shiver run up your spine. With a happy content huff, he relaxed back down on you and propped himself up by resting his forearms on your chest. A warm smile and half-lidded eyes adorned his face as he placed a soft innocent kiss on your cheek and then rested his chest on his arms, staring at you.

Your hands slowly ran up his biceps and rested on his shoulders, mimicking his smile with one of your own. As you thumbed over his skin, you couldn’t help but think about how much you truly cared about Dante. Wandering thoughts devolved to the memories of coming home to a near-dead Dante laying on the bathroom floor; which only further darkened to the idea that it could always happen and, someday, you might not make it home in time to--

“Hey,” Dante’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. His smile was gone and his brow was creased, “What’s wrong?”

A tremble found its way to your lips as you stared at him and you realized that you had several tears running down your face. Unable to spit out what you were thinking, you spoke with a small crack in your voice, “Can you come closer?”

He gave you a small sweet smile with a happy huff, “Here.”

Dante stood up, picked you up, and placed you on the bed--laying you the correct way. The red devil then slid onto the bed next to you, placing his head on your chest. He laid with his body half on top of you and wrapped his arms around your middle, allowing you to do the same. Although you typically would’ve immediately gone to wash up after such a strenuous event, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of him. A loud robust purring filled the room as both of you relished in the feeling of holding one another.

You placed a soft long kiss against the top of his head, lingering against him for some time before whispering sweetly against his disheveled hair, “I love you, Dante; you know that, right?”

The red devil turned his head to look at you better and placed a soft kiss against your lips, “I love you too babe,” he placed his head back on your chest, nuzzling into your hard, his arms wrapping tighter around you, “So damned much.”

ENDING NOTES: ;skfajfjlkdsjafkldj this wasn’t supposed to be this long--it’s 22 pages in docs; how the fuck-- This was supposed to be a short Dante smut fic, what happened lmaooo 🍊🍊🍊 Quick thing: If you are curious as to why I think a younger Dante would have issues with how he looks; it is because it reminds him of Vergil (Vergil has the same issue when his hair is down, thinking he looks like his brother--I mean, they are twins after all). 🍊🍊🍊 You know, I have written quite a bit of smut, right? So you’d think that I would stop laughing and getting embarrassed over writing words like “nipple” or “balls” but no, I fucking still giggle to myself like a fucking idiot when I write those words like… wtf is wrong with me smh Like I sit here typing one letter at a time all flustered when writing those two words specifically even though I just wrote about Dante fingerings the reader or like the reader linking Dante’s pre-cum like wtf is wrong with me lmaooo

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

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kylefletchersgf · 3 months

Note

Trish stratus x reader (fem)

Could you write something like when Trish turns on Becky,Becky begs reader to pick her side but reader doesn’t even think before picking Trish so whenever Becky is near them Trish rubs it in Becky’s face(by like getting really touching or something)

love your writing btw 😸😸

★ღ♔『She Chose Me』★ღ♔

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.

[Summary]: Trish and Becky made you choose between them and Becky couldn’t convince you enough so you chose Trish so Trish rubs it in Becky’s face

[Tw!]: angst, gxg, any mistakes I might have

[Word Count]: 1.1k

[Taglist]: @annasjays @nev-danielgarciawife

If you want to be added to the tag list let me know

Y/r/n= Your ring name

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.

You walked into the arena torn at the news that Adam Pearce gave you the previous week; ‘Trish is going to turn on Becky and you have to choose who you want to stay with’. This was hard for you because off screen you loved both women equally which makes it so much harder to choose, you was stuck in your mind; Trish had your heart first then there’s Becky. You walked into their shared locker room until the plan went into action later that night, you looked at them “hey Becks, hey Trish” you said as they smiled back.

You stayed in the locker room until your head started having thoughts zoom in and out of it so you told them you was going to ‘get something to drink in catering’, you got to catering looking around for Dakota Kai; she was your go to person when you needed to vent, since Nxt you and her became close, even inseparable. You pulled her to the side and she knew that was your sign that you needed to vent, she looked over at you “what’s wrong love?” She asked rubbing your arm. “I’m stressed out so much right now Dakota.”

“What’s up?” “So you know the storyline I’m in.. it’s stressing me out you know I love both of them but how do I know who to choose?” “Love you know I’m going to give you honest advice, if I was in your situation even though the head and the heart don’t agree go to which ever one your heart calls out trust me it’ll be easier to listen to your heart it knows what you really want Y/n” “thank you I will follow my heart” you said hugging her then grabbing a drink going back to the locker room.

You walked in shutting the door behind you “who do y’all fight tonight?” You asked as Trish looked at Becky. “Yeah Becks who do we fight tonight?” Becky looked at you and Trish thinking about who they were fighting tonight “we fight Zoey and Shayna” Becky said standing up. You took a sip of your drink thinking about the advice Dakota Kai gave to you to help you choose between the two even if they lost their match tonight. “When do we go out there?” “After Rhea’s promo calling out Charlotte” “got ya” you said getting tv ready still nervous.

When Rhea was done you, Trish, and Becks made your way to the ring as you sat at the commentary table. “Right here joining us at the commentary table we have Y/r/n with us, thank you for joining us” Michael Cole introduced you. “Thank you for having me Cole and Corey” you replied happily as Shayna’s theme started playing while her and Zoey walked out together. Cole looked over at you and asked “Y/r/n, have you seen the tension with Becky and Trish and who do you pick to go with?” When he asked that you froze in your tracks.

You looked over at Cole not knowing what to say so you had to think about it but before you could answer Graves yelled out “oh! What a brutal knee to Becky by Shayna Baszler” which turned the attention back to the match. Thank goodness for Graves that gave you time to avoid the question until you have to answer it when they did the promo after the match. While the match was still going you kept thinking about the advice Dakota Kai gave you; ‘listen to your heart it knows what you really want Y/n’ as you sighed sadly.

Becky tapped out to Shayna’s Kirafuda Clutch making you face palm and Trish shake her head disappointingly, Trish got two microphones handing one to Becky as you took the headset off joining them in the ring standing in the middle of both of them. Trish put the microphone to her mouth “sorry we didn’t get the win, we just lost the titles to Shayna and Zoey Stark” she said the last part pissed off looking straight at Becky. Becky put the microphone to her mouth looking at both you and Trish “I’m sorry guys, this one’s on me” she sighed.

Trish looked at Becky “so Becky I’m done I’m not gonna be wrestling that much longer anymore” she ‘cried’ to hide the fact that she was going to turn. “Y/r/n, honey who do you choose to go with? Leave with me? Or go with Becky?” Becky looked over at you but before she could talk Trish cut her off “she lost our match Y/r/n and look at what happened with her and Charlotte, do you really want to be around that honey?” She asked as Becky begged you to stay while the crowd was like ‘oohhhh’ at what Trish said.

While the advice that Dakota Kai gave you played in your head you didn’t even hesitate to pick Trish. Becky looked at the both of you distraught and confused and probably so many more emotions that you couldn’t read but would know if she told you. Before she could even ask you why Trish beat her up to the point to where she couldn’t move and was holding her ribs in pain, that right there was your and Trish’s heel turn. You was put in this storyline because you couldn’t wrestle because you hurt your leg when you got injured.

You got injured when you wrestled Sonya at a house show and you landed wrong on your leg causing you to wear a boot, but there’s no bad blood between you and Sonya. The love triangle ended because you was close to being healed soon so Adam had to start writing out your matches and your new storyline with Trish since the trio just now turned into a duo. You and Trish was booed by the fans as you both walked backstage together leaving a beat up Becky in the ring as medical staff walked past you to get her.

Over the past few weeks whenever Becky was around you Trish would rub it in her face that you chose her; she would hug you, put her arm around you, or hold your hands when telling you something, etc. petty stuff like that. Ever since that happened Becky’s been avoiding you and even stopped talking to you outside of wresting, you get it that it was a storyline but ignoring you outside of wrestling? That’s a bit over reacting to you, but who cares you’re not forcing her to talk to you, but it did hurt you a little bit.

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bellarosethefangirl · 2 years

Text

Bucci gang x Reader Headcanons

Baking Their S/o A Valentines Surprise

Taglist:

@syntheticseraton1n @danielle-marie @shxftxng @noaltbruh

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, info here

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno would do his best to impress you so he's baking you a four tier double chocolate cake with valentines sprinkle's

He would plan out the sweet treat a week ahead to make sure he bought the best ingredients on the market

He's really good at baking and decorating desserts

He spent two days creating this lovely cake for you

He'll wear a cute pink floral apron with ladybug oven mitts

He got you a gift bag full of items you've had your eyes on for months

Giorno would wear a nice suit since he'd take you to a garden date after you both enjoy the cake

When presenting the cake to you he has a smile on his face and he went above and beyond by growing a vase of red roses too

Your glowing smile made all the time and effort he put into this surprise for you worth it

If you comment how delicious the cake is his eyes gleam with joy as he gives you a charming smile and kiss to your forehead

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia isn't the best cook but he can bake cookies, cakes, and brownies easily. He'll decide to bake you some vanilla cupcakes decorated in pink frosting and topped with conversation heart candies

He'd be rapping while listening to loud rap on his stereo. He'd dance as he's waiting for the cupcakes to bake or cool down.

Since you're not home he'd grab his gift he bought you from a music store. He'll have it ready for you by the cupcakes.

As he is decorating he's hoping for a hug and kiss from you

Once you're home you're greeted by an eager Narancia with a tower of Valentines cupcakes. His lips are puckered up causing you to giggle and kiss him. He combed his hair and wore cologne for you! He's so cute.

He'll watch as you enjoy your cupcake opening his gift for you

Your appreciation means a lot to him so he's so happy when you give him a hug

He's taking you on a movie date so he hopes you're ready for junk food and a movie together

Bruno Bucciarati

Of course he'd be a good baker. He'd bake your favorite type of cake then decorate it in a lovely Valentines theme topping it with a heart shaped store bought cookie

The man may be a capo but he made time for you since its Valentines day

He'll wear a zipper themed apron and his hair is in a bun as he is working on your cake. Smooth jazz is playing on his record player as he thinks about you. He misses you so much.

His apron is pretty dirty since he made you dinner too. He was sure to make your favorite meal. This man will surprise you with a romantic candle lit dinner with wine glasses and rose petals.

As he waits for the cakes to cool down he gets ready for you. He'll wear a suit and put his best suit on. He wants to impress you so of course he is going above and beyond.

After he is done getting ready the zipper apron is back on and he decorates while his stand cleans up the kitchen

The moment you arrive home Bruno greets you in the sweetest tone with a pet name. As your eyes widen at such a surprise his smile radiates the room.

You're no match against his arms wrapping around you. You thank him for everything with kiss.

He pushes your chair in for you and starts serving you the food he made. He's sure to remind you to leave room for the cake he made you. Your eyes light up seeing your favorite food and such a marvelous cake.

Bruno is happy to see you enjoy his cooking and the slice of cake he served you. You thank him with lots of kisses

Guido Mista

This man is a foodie and sure loves to cook. He will take inspiration from circus animal cookies and recreate them into heart shaped cookies for you. He'll top them with Valentine's sprinkles.

He thought cookies would be best so the leftovers could be easily saved in a cookie jar for later

He's got a chef hat and red zebra print apron whistling as he listens to the radio.

It takes him time to coat the cookies in the melted chocolate but he knows they'll turn out fine

After he is done decorating he'll write you a note, "Happy Valentines, sweetheart I baked you cookies. I'll be in the living room shortly. I have snacks and a movie waiting for you. Be there in a bit. Your man Mista-"

He takes a shower making sure he chose an expensive body wash. He wants cuddles after all

You try some cookies once you arrive home. His note didn't go unnoticed so you head to the living room.

You soon see Mista standing in front of you in a new pair of striped pants. He's shirtless with his arms out wide open for you.

As you're in his arms be sure to compliment him or fondle him. He loves it. He'll hold you in his arms as you both watch movies together.

If you thank him for the cookies or praise his baking he kisses your forehead and sweetly tells you, "Happy Valentines, love you babe"

Fugo Pannacotta

Fugo will choose a difficult dessert such as macaroons but he planned it a week prior so he's prepared

He will want them to be perfect! The heart shapes must be perfect too. He'll even give you three different fillings for each! If the heart shaped macaroons aren't symmetrical then he will redo them as many times as it takes

He bakes in the cutest red strawberry print apron with a small low ponytail showing off his strawberry earrings in the process. He'll also have the cutest matching baking mittens too.

He will read a book as he waits for them to bake and cool down

He'll think of different imagines of you reacting to your surprise. Murmuring responses to himself. "Yes belleza all for you!", "Oh you like my macaroons? What's that? A kiss?"

His favorite are secretly the beige colored macaroons with the red roses and lettering filled with, "I love you". He loves his handwriting and gets bashful about telling you he loves you

He'll neatly place them on a strawberry plate beside a large vase of flowers for you. He'll make sure they're your favorite type of flowers

When you arrive home and see the surprise he has such a pleased expression. His smile is super humble upon hearing your compliments. He hopes you kiss him.

If you do he starts to get love drunk. Half lidded purple eyes with a visible small blush.

He's so happy seeing your reactions to the flowers and dessert he made you

You two will watch a movie together while enjoying the macaroons.

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio isn't much of a cook but he's decent when he wants to be. His baking skills are decent too. He desired to make the cookies because acts of service are his love language. He'll decide to make you sugar cookies

He'll make a small batch of the cookies decorating them in a nightmare before Christmas theme. He wants to be a little romantic and reference the couple from the movie. He hopes you understand the implication. He is a man of few words after all

His hair is in a ponytail as he bakes. He won't wear an apron but he will listen to music as he bakes and decorates the cookies

It took him quite a bit of time to decorate so he sure hopes you enjoy them.

He plans to take you to a restaurant when you arrive home

When you arrive and compliment or thank him he's eating up the attention. He will smile if he receives affection from you.

He got you a black rose and compliments you

If he see's you enjoy one he'll be happy. He isn't as into sweets so he won't try one

He'll undo his ponytail and ask you to get ready to go out. He's surprising you with your favorite restaurant

Trish Una

She decides to bake you some pink sugar cookies bars with cream cheese frosting and valentine's sprinkle's.

She has a very girly pink apron with her stereo playing her favorite CD. She sing's along as she bakes. Her sweet voice is so beautiful as she sings.

She'll have a big smile on her face as she thinks about you. She'll ever so often look over to the gift bag she has ready for you. It will have two expensive presents inside

She decides to bake you some pink sugar cookies bars with cream cheese frosting and valentine's sprinkle's.

She has a very girly pink apron with her stereo playing her favorite CD. She sing's along as she bakes. Her sweet voice is so beautiful as she sings.

She'll have a big smile on her face as she thinks about you. She'll ever so often look over to the gift bag she has ready for you. It will have two expensive presents inside

Trish will start singing about romance as she is frosting the cookie bars. She touches up her makeup and changes into a sexy dress.

Her lovely green eyes light up upon hearing you arrive at the door. She greets you by serenading you. She's feeling flirty if you get bashful or in a romantic mood. She will give you a kiss and direct you to her surprise.

Any response from you gives her joy. If you compliment her look she'll want affection. She'll love to see your reaction to the presents she bought you. If you greet her with a bouquet or gift she'll kiss and hug you as thanks

Afterwards you two are going to a high end restaurant in her limo

#buccigang x reader #trish una x reader #trish x reader #team bucciarati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #narancia ghirga x reader #guido mista x reader smut #fugo pannacotta x reader #leone abbacchio x reader #valentine’s fic #bucci gang headcanon #not my divider

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0funkyducky0 · 1 year

Text

𐐪𐑂 Trish 𐐪𐑂

𐐪𐑂 Smut 💕 - 𐐪𐑂 Fluff 💝

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc x reader #devil may cry x reader #dmc fluff #dmc smut #dmc trish #trish x reader #trish smut #trish fluff

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devilmaecat · 2 years

Text

Heya! I've gotten into writing recently. I've thought about doing maybe some short reader/Canon requests.

I'm really focused on Devil May Cry!

So any headcanons, fluff, or spice requests of the DMC crew is welcome in my asks!

#vergil dmc #vergil x reader #dante x reader #v x reader #nero x reader #fluff #dmc smut #art requests #drabble #writing requests #headcanon #dmc lady #dmc nico #dmc trish

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bouncybongfairy · 6 months

Note

was wondering if you could write a morty smith x reader where you both get high after studying together?

Study Date

Morty Smith x Fem Reader

Summary: Morty musters up the courage and asks you over for a study date. Who knew studying human biology could have such interactive hands on lessons.

Word Count: 1.5k

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Smut, Fingering, Squirting, Nipple Play.

(Aged up)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was lunch and you were sitting at one of the tables in the quad. Your friends were fixing up their hair and make-up as they picked at their food. Talking shit about girls they either didn’t know and/or don’t like. The conversation was starting to shift, them talking about how Morty came up to you before class. He’d invited you to come over after school and study. A lot of your friends think he’s weird or odd. That was one of the things you liked most about him. Most guys tried acting all big and confident when trying to pursue you. Puffing their shoulders out and bragging about all the illegal activities they partake in. Morty was quite nervous when he spoke with you, like he was savoring every second he could be near you. Him being so flustered and shy made you feel flattered.

“Are you really going to his house after school?” Trisha asked.

“Yeah, why not?” you asked, stabbing at your salad.

“I don’t know he’s just kinda… like strange?” she asked, which made the entire table laugh.

“Not as strange as Brad going back and forth between you and Jessica like he’s test driving a car he might wanna buy. Even once he picks the one he wants, we all know he’ll run it into the ground,” you said, packing your lunch and bag.

They were idiots and you didn’t appreciate the little jab towards Morty. You could tell that it took a lot of him to muster up the courage to talk to you. As someone who also struggled with shyness and social anxiety, it hurt you to see people poke fun at that. You ended up going home early, too worked up to go back to class. Even though you had nerves, that didn’t take away from how excited you were. There were two classes where you sat behind him, at times you wouldn’t pay attention to what was going on. Watching all his nervous little mannerisms, the way he picked at his nails. Or scratched the back of his neck when we were given an assignment he didn’t understand.

Sometimes he’d come to school with a gash above his eyebrow, or a purple tinted bruise under his eye. You liked how he kinda looked sad and tired all the time. It was weird, you weren’t really sure why. It didn’t take long for you to get home. Letting yourself in because your mom and dad were both at work. This worked out great for you, it meant you could take hits of your pen out in the open. Also allowing you to use all the makeup on your moms vanity without her fussing. Time was flying by a lot faster now that you weren’t on campus. This may sound vain but you really want to impress him with your physical beauty.

Ensuring to pay attention to the smallest details, making sure your eyelash glue wasn’t visible. That your concealer wasn’t caking under your eyes. After staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, you drove over. His house was really nice, furnished like a 90’s family movie. Pictures of family and inspirational quotes, very cozy. Morty’s room was nice. He could normally keep it very tidy but, you’d like to think he cleaned it because you were coming over. Different posters scattered about his room, a rug in the middle of the room; made to look like the solar system.

“Have you always been into science?” you asked.

“Uh, no my grandpa is the one who made me into it,” he said, pulling out the chair for you to sit at his desk.

“Oh yeah, Trish was telling me about that. What’s like the craziest thing you guys ever did in space?” you asked, emptying your bag.

“One time Rick was selling this-” he started but you interrupted.

“No, no I meant like you. Not Rick, I wanna know what’s the craziest thing you’ve done,” you clarified.

“I- um well. This one time Rick had to do some business on the citadel, I couldn’t come for w-what ever reason. There’s this, like club/bar thing called the Creepy Morty. It was the first time I snorted kalaxian c-crystals and some crazy shit w-went down,” he said, chuckling a little.

“Oh my god, that sounds like a lot of fun,” you said, opening up your biology book. Pulling out the notes you’d written during class.

“Your writing is so nice,” he said, watching you bend down to get your pink pencil box.

“Thank you, I feel like those were pretty sloppy,” you said, opening the plastic box and revealing a plethora of weed paraphernalia, “Will we get in trouble for smoking here?” you asked, licking the grape flavored wrap.

“B-be my guest,” he said, laughing nervously, “Can you even r-roll with nails?” he asked.

Instead of verbally responding, you just finished rolling. He pointed out how you made the mouthpiece slightly tighter than the rest of it. The fact that he noticed this small detail made you blush. Putting the blunt between your lips, gesturing from him to light it. His hand shook a little as he brought the flame to you. It was surprising to you, watching him take ghost inhales without coughing. The two of you began talking back and forth, just about life and whatever came to mind. Eventually the conversation began to shift, you asking if he had a girlfriend.

“No, w-why would I invite you over if I did,” he laughed.

“Oh so you invited me over for romantic reasons?” you asked, tilting your head up and blowing the smoke towards the ceiling.

“What? No Absolutely- I just…” he began slightly panicking.

“No? Aww that’s too bad,” you said.

“Really?” he asked.

“I mean yeah, I think you’re really cool. I like you alot, I can’t deny that when you asked me to come over I was really excited,” you said, handing him the blunt.

“Holy shit, honestly you don’t understand how good that is to hear,” he said.

“Well now that we both can admit we never really intended on studying, maybe we can watch a movie on my laptop?” you asked.

He of course agreed, now laying on your stomachs. His twin size bed only made for your bodies to be pressed against each other. Watching a horror movie that he suggested. Already 15 minutes in, you were waiting for him to make a move. He was laying on his side, back facing the wall and his elbow was supporting his head . Rubbing your back but keeping a respectful distance from your ass. Eventually he started to wander down, making your back arch involuntarily. You could have sworn he chuckled, to be fair most of your focus was trying to act like it isn't affecting you. Going down past your skirt, his fingertips now against your skin. At first he was just feeling you up, squeezing and groping after a while.

You were happy to be wearing makeup because your face was getting hot. He started to make things more intense, now rubbing the fabric of your panties. You had to bite back a gasp as he traced your slit with his fingers. He curls his leg around yours, spreading your thighs apart. Pulling your panties down and slightly, giving his hand room to spread your wetness around. Pushing his middle and ring finger into you. At first he maintained a slow place, giving you time to stretch around him. Starting to get more desperate, you arch and push yourself down onto his fingers. You were no longer regulating how loud you were being, letting pants and moans out without any shame. Morty noticed this and changed his position. Flipping you from your stomach to your back, pulling your shirt above your chest. He became animalistic once he saw your chest.

Taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Sucking and flicking his tongue as he fucked his finger back into you. Becoming rougher, biting and nipping at your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, not pulling through. Just caressing him, your mind becoming more and more foggy with pleasure. Your legs were trembling and you could feel your orgasm approaching. So could he, prompting him to pull his fingers out and play with your clit. It wasn’t long until you were coming, squirting on his hand. This took him off guard but made him cum in his boxers. Spreading your juices to your chest and slapping your breasts. Splashing the liquid around until you were squirming and reddened. The two of you laid there for a while until you broke the silence.

“Can I do you back?” you asked and he shook his head.

“No I came in my pants,” he said so casually that you couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, started mimicking the way you were moaning. Making both of you giggle yourselves to sleep.

#rick and morty fanfiction #morty x reader #morty c137 x reader #rick and morty #rick and morty fanfic #rick and morty smut #rick sanchez #morty c137 #rick and morty fanfic request #fanfic request #morty x you #evil morty imagine #evil morty x you #evil morty x reader

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 1 year

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I don't even know your name | joel miller x f!reader, 8.3k

Summary: Your life changes dramatically and you turn to your best friend, Trish, for help. Trish is Joel’s cousin and little did you know when you met him by chance in a bar, before Trish officially introduced you to one another. He’s emotionally unavailable -or so he thinks-, you have lost faith in people -or so you think. Basically, two idiots who fall in love and decide to torture themselves.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, angst, slow-burn, Joel is 45ish, reader is 35 with two baby girls, allusions to smut, dirty thoughts, swearing, no physical description of the reader (but she will have long hair for smut purposes later on, hehe), no use of y/n, I’m not good at warning people, tell me what am I missing!

A/N: This has taken me forever, my life is a f’ing mess, but I didn’t want to abandon it. I’m splitting the story to parts, otherwise you’d been reading it until The Second Coming. 😅😏🫣 Thank you to anyone who’s taking the time to read this, I love you and I hope you enjoy it!😘

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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“Guys?” you drag out the word, “Do we really have to have the talk?” you try to avoid the conversation, knowing yourself and how you usually respond to these kind of questions, damn your spontaneity, shifting restlessly into the couch. Joel’s presence, sitting across the room on the comfy armchair, near the lit fireplace, isn’t helping in the slightest. He looks too invested in your point of view, but you already expected that. You try to avoid his gaze for as long as you can.

“Yes! Get the conversation going, babe, don’t be shy!” a female voice comes from a different part of the house. Joel doesn’t respond, looking quite nonchalant, in an effort to not seem.. eager. But you know better.

“It’s not a matter of shyness, on the contrary, you know I’m in the habit of not holding my tongue, and that can often get me in trouble..”, you sigh, shaking your head.

I have a few ideas involving that tongue of your- Stop it. Joel suppresses his thoughts audibly, by clearing his throat. “How come?” he finally joins in. You love the sound of that word on his mouth. Shaping into a different meaning inside your mind every time he uses it, pumping all of your blood to all the right places. Four months into knowing him and you quickly came to realize if you let your guard down, you would be done for. And now was not the time. You had a million loose ends to work out.

“Oh, you know, people tend to get the wrong idea, assuming things about me. I wish I could shut me up sometimes.” Oh, the ways I could shut that pretty little mouth, darlin’. Get it together. She’s not good for you. Or maybe you’re not good enough for her., he’s looking away, focusing on Trish, his cousin and your dear friend, who rushes out of her kitchen holding your -God knows what round of- drinks, almost stumbling on the carpet, while Joel’s trying to clear his head.

“What’s the rush Trish, anything to get off your chest?” you ask, squinting at her in a shut-the-fuck-up way. She bursts into laughter before she can even begin to talk, not taking the hint. Or pretending not to. Definitely pretending. Menace. “You remember that time, where were we?” She’s clicking her fingers together in an effort to jog her own memory. “With that dude? Who thought you wanted to talk your way into fucking him? Like he needed any convincing whatsoev-”

“We’ve met a lot of dudes together Trish; you being the main reason we’ve met them in the first place.” you interrupt, rolling your eyes at your friend. Joel is raising an eyebrow, looking back and forth between you and her. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific. Actually, don’t, you already embarrassed me enough!” you hold back a smile covering your face with one hand, as you pull your feet on the couch, bringing your knees to your chest in an effort to create a barrier between you and the space surrounding you, to feel some kind of protection around you.

Trish is looking so amused, she’s having a hard time concentrating. “I don’t remember nor the place or the dude, but you were defending, quite passionately I might add, womens’ equal right to one night stands and how we should have the same amount of pleasure as men without the guilt that comes with it; Joel you should see her, she almost raised the flag of revolution!” Where are you going with this Trish..?

“Did she, now..” Joel runs his eyes up and down, taking you all in, sipping his whiskey slowly, licking his bottom lip after he swallowed. Jesus, that neck.

You groan in frustration, “Here it comes. Another one who speculates. Ok, let me have it.”, you almost snap, observing the way he’s checking you out. But he knows better. There’s an intensity radiating out of him, you can almost feel the warmth of it on your skin and you let your mind wonder how he would feel like over you, under you or in any way he would choose to manhandle you. Manhandle? Where is this coming from?

“Hey, she’s the one who said ‘passionately’!” Joel raises his hands up in defense, his brows raised and knead together, clearly amused on the information he’s extracting so effortlessly. Trish takes her seat next to you to the couch, enjoying the moment more than she should, looking at the two of you.

“I’m not- I don’t- uuuuh, Trish why are you doing this to me?” you whine in exasperation, looking up to the ceiling, and rolling your eyes shut.

“Because maybe you should! Come on, live a little!”, she grumbles, grabbing your forearm, shaking you dramatically. Trish was actually living, more than a little, her life, full of experiences, lovers, you name it. Sometimes you wished you could live so carefree. She has been desperately trying to pour some of her carnal wisdom into you. For years. Now, given your emotional status, she believes it’s her best chance. So, she pushed.

“Should do what?” Joel interjects curiously.

Trish opens her mouth and spills it out before you can stop her, “Fuckarounds!” -her take on one night stands- “or at least something casual, since she insists that one flavor is better than a sea of delicacies.”, she winks dramatically in your direction.

“Yeah, no, that’s- that’s great, let’s bring Joel into this conversation” you sigh, rubbing your forehead and tilting your head down.

“Oh, I thought-” he looks genuinely confused at your reaction. At this point he’s confused about a lot of things.

“Yes! Exactly! Of course you thought! That’s what I meant before. Just because I can’t bring myself to do it, it doesn’t mean that it’s wrong, or that I’m judgmental of people that do it. Hell, sometimes I wish I was those people.. That’s what I was trying to explain to the dude-”

“You see?” she turns to Joel for backup, “quite the lawyer we have here! And the dude didn’t get the memo.”, she turns to you once more. You shake you head at her and you both laugh at the memory.

“She’s insufferable sometimes, but I’ll get her mind around, don’t you worry!”, she adds, taking her eyes from yours to Joel’s, smiling at the implication, almost like.. you’re spoken for?? What the fuck, Trish? Your face feels like it’s on fire and you’re pretty sure it’s showing, too. You can always blame it on the heat of the fireplace. Now it’s Joel’s turn to shift to his seat uncomfortably. He, thankfully, rises from his spot and let both of you know he’s heading to the kitchen for a refill.

“What the fuck are you doing?”, you hiss at her. “He’ll think I put you up to this.”

“Up to what?” Trish plays dumb, but failing monumentally.

“Dude, you can’t have your cousin think that I’m into him, it’s not right. I didn’t asked you to. Quit it.”, you whisper in despair.

“Love, seriously, you need to at least de-stress yourself.” Trish pressures on. “It’s been, what, six months since the divorce, four months in, leaving with me, I mean, that’s unacceptable.”

“Look, I’ll move, the first house I’ll find, I promise, I don’t want to overstay my welcome-”

“Hey, I’m talking about letting four perfectly good months fly away without getting any. Especially, when you have such a skilled babysitter. You're not taking advantage of me enough.” She moves her hands around her body, showing herself. “And I told you, you and the girls can stay here indefinitely. I fuckin’ mean it.”

“Well, less of the ‘f’ word in front of them, if you do!”, you tease. “Thank you, but I’ll find a place. I need to. I want to bring some kind of normalcy back into our lives. Their lives.”

“I know, baby. But seriously. You’re fucking 35. You act like your life is over. He’s not worth it.”

“We’ve been through that before Trish, it’s not about him, I just-” you exhale, shaking your head, “l don’t think there’s anyone out there for me, you know? I feel like I’m too old for any of this. Point me to the direction of one guy, just one, who would even consider to engage with a 35 year old divorced mother of two and I’ll take him, Scout’s honor.”

She opens her mouth to say something but reconsiders, trying to find the right words. She knows you have a point. “That’s why I insist for you to.. FUCK AROUND! No strings attached. How sweet of you to help me prove my point!!”, Trish exclaims triumphantly.

You pretend to be in deep thinking, finally concluding, “You know what, I’m done with men. Not worth the energy spent. Hey, maybe I’ll date you; we love each other, we practically live together, it’s a done deal!” You both laugh at the idea.

“Aaaaaw, I’m fluttered hot mama, but maybe you should give ‘em men a chance, before you flip the coin!”, she pushes on.

You really look at her now, trying to see her point of view. You were lonely, you were touch deprived, you longed for intimacy, but intimacy in your case meant sentiment. And sentiment comes form some kind of attachment. You wanted, you needed, hell, you craved to connect. “You know, you always insist on all that casual thing, but I’m in a place in life that.. what’s the point?”

“Um, the point of someone else giving you an orgasm?”, she deadpans.

“Oh God..”, you drug your hand down your face, feeling defeated. “Seriously? Because I’m pretty sure this coffee table here,” you point at it with your brows, “can find my bud easier than half the men out there.”, you blurt out in frustration. Joel coughs, choking on his whiskey. You both jolt from your seats on the couch at the sound, turning your heads, one in amusement and one in embarrassment, seeing Joel standing at the living room entrance, frozen in place. Neither of you heard him approaching. If you could hold your tongue for once, woman. Just once.

“So..” he drags the word out, “what about the other half?”, he shakes off the awkwardness of the moment and sly his way into the conversation. You both look at him with a dumbfounded expression on your faces.

“Joel, how long have you been standing there?” Trish wonders, raising one brow devilishly.

“Enough to know I was right to have been standing there as long as I have.” he smirks into his glass, swallowing another sip. You’re too mortified to register the question as non-rhetorical. You almost stop breathing, praying that would make you invisible, hoping he‘d somehow forget his question.

“So?”, Joel insists, looking at you through his lashes, crossing his legs and leaning against the doorframe that connects the living area with the kitchen.

“Excuse me?”, you manage to breathe out, feeling exposed.

Joel doesn’t miss the opportunity to remind you exactly what you pointed out, moments ago. “You said that half the men can’t find y-”, he pauses, inhaling sharply, imagining how good you would look, all naked and spread out under him, but hearing in his mind how intimate what he’s about to say sounds, he corrects himself. “Uh, a woman’s bud.” He moves his hands in the air in a generic motion. You feel so embarrassed, you think you might explode if your heart rate doesn’t drop down. “So, what about the other half of us?” his eyes are burning coals, piercing through you. You pick up the insinuation immediately. He knows his way around a woman’s body. Ok, thank you for the burning image of you eating me out, fingering me to death or rubbing me to completion, Joel. But where the fuck is he going with this? He knows by now that you’re candid like that and you’ll answer accordingly, so he presses all your buttons on purpose, he’s got to be. You devil, we had a fucking deal. You smile, accepting the challenge as you decide to answer him. Two can play that game.

“Oh, you mean the emotionally unavailable half?”

He certainly didn’t expect this response. His face drops suddenly, his jaw flexes; you are positive that a nerve has been touched. He looks embarrassed, like a child caught with his hand in the honey pot and you immediately feel sorry for him. You hate making people feel bad. Even if you’re right. Damn people pleaser.

Too forward? Too soon? Maybe both? You open your mouth to say something -anything- but your mind goes blank. He looks down at his half-empty glass and goes “Huh.”, before he empties the poison of his choice down his throat in one gulp. He calmly leaves the now empty glass on the coffee table, forming a one-sided kind of knowing smile on his face and he leaves the room quietly, leaving you feeling guilty.

You realize that you need to breathe at some point, so you take a sharp breath, after you hear the front door closing behind him.

“Well.. that went well.” Trish comments, looking at her nails.

You snap your head at her, feeling ready to explode. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“No, but it leaves you minus one penis.”, she deadpans.

“I’m not interes-“ her eyes move up to yours so quickly, staring at you in a don’t-bullshit-me way, that you don’t dare finish your sentence. “Even I would be interested if he wasn’t a relative.” she feels the need to exaggerate.

“He’s not what I’m looking for, Trish.”

“But he might be just what you need.” Damn, she’s on a roll tonight. “Is there something going on? I mean between the two of you.”

Panic rises fast inside of you like waves crushing on rocks. You think you can hear your heartbeat. “No, of course not.”

Trish gives you an investigative look, as if staring at you long enough would make you admit the truth she thinks she knows. “Are you sure?”

“Joel and I couldn’t be further apart, trust me.”

BEFORE

He observes you sitting on the bar stool for a long time, almost memorizing your every curve and line. He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. He can’t even see your whole face, but something makes him stare. You stand out to him for some reason. Maybe it’s the intense antithesis against your surroundings. Still, while everyone moves. Sad, while everyone laughs. Quiet, while everyone yells into each others’ ears. Lonesome in a sea of people. Your gaze is soft and detached, like all the burden of the world is on your shoulders. Holding your beer for far too long, sipping slowly straight from the bottle, like you’re trying to prolong your stay at the bar, or maybe avoiding going back to where you came from. He’s standing up.

You’re sitting on the bar stool, looking absentmindedly at the bartender on the other side of the counter, moving around, serving drinks. And you’re just sitting there. Alone. Wondering how the hell did you come to this. You always thought it was kind of strange going out on your own. Never done it before. But here you are. Here you are.

It’s been a week since you left your whole life behind you, leaving everything you knew and hold dear, moving to your best friend’s house, temporarily. Until you figure out what you’re going to do. She insisted to babysit so you can go out and have fun. She was funny that way. Have fun. All you wanted was to just disconnect from the world. Not think of anything. Not worry about anyone. Not much of a choice when you are a parent though. Worrying is on top of your list when you have kids. Two little girls, two and a half years old and an almost six months old.

That’s what you did for the past couple of years. Giving birth and raising a baby girl. And then giving birth again to another one. Until your husband decided all of a sudden that he can’t do this anymore. You’ve become too cold, too distant, he felt under-appreciated, pushed away.

The fact that he was always gone, always working and not contributing the hours that he indeed was at home, the fact that you were practically all alone in this, was not taken into consideration.

Everything happened fairly quickly. In the course of four months you got separated, he didn’t even want to try to fix things. Not even for the sake of being able to say that you at least tried. And then other suspicions began to enter your mind-

“You really look like you need a drink.”, a deep voice distracts you from your thoughts. You would be almost thankful for the distraction, growing tired of thinking the same things over and over again, like a broken record, but your bad mood wins over this one. Without turning your head to look at the direction of the voice, you raise the hand holding your beer, motioning at it, in silence.

“Nuuuh, that’s practically water, darlin’.”, the man insists, leaning forward as he stands next to you, his body turned your way, his left foot crossing over his right, his elbow resting on the counter, holding his glass of whiskey. You still don’t turn to look at him and with all the patience that is left in you, you raise the bottle to your lips, taking a sip. “Nope, still beer.”, you answer and keep your gaze to the shelf with the drinks behind the bartender. God, you’re too old for this.

The stranger huffs a small laugh and pushes on. “At least lemme buy you a cold one. That one must taste like a piss by now.”

“Oh, you must have been watching me, then.”, you try to embarrass him in order to leave you alone.

“That, I have.” Oh, he’s got a pair.

“Well, don’t.” you snap and you finally turn to look at him.

Holy shit.

You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so beautiful. Someone, your kind of beautiful. Masculine and broad and dark but with a vibe of kindness and safety in his presence. He’s looking at you, patiently, with a hind of a smile on his lips, like he knew that you’d change your mind once you’d lay your eyes on him. You take a deep breath to compose yourself and start over. “Look, I’m sorry, you look like a decent guy, but I would just be a bad company.”

“You don’t have to apologize darlin’, you have every right to choose your company, or the lack of it for that matter. It’s ok.” he says and he’s starting to move away from you slowly like he’s going to leave you alone. And now he’s making you feel like an ass. Kill with kindness they say?

A thousand thoughts are crossing your mind, you haven’t done this for what it feels like ages, you’re out of your depth, you don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t even remember the woman behind the mother, he’s gorgeous, why the hell is he talking to you? Ok, you know what? You’re going to fucking enjoy yourself. Just make conversation, fool around, it’s not like you’re gonna see him ever again. What do you have to lose?

You exhale hard, rolling your eyes to yourself and you grab his wrist lightly to ask, “Beer offer still standing?” surprising your own self. Damn, he’s warm. Pleasantly warm. I-want-you-to-envelop-me-in-your-arms warm. He turns his head to you, his eyes drop to your hand holding his, then back to your lips and then to your eyes. He lingers for a second too long and then turns to the bartender to order. You reluctantly let go of his hand and smile coyly.

You stare at each other for a moment and you both smile, waiting for the other to initiate the conversation. “I swear I’m not trying to do small talk or throw a bunch of lines your way,” he begins playfully, “but, you don’t look like you’re from around here.”

You audibly laugh and you raise your brows in surprise. “That’s weird,” you reply scrunching your nose, “I thought that’s what people do when they’re talking to total strangers at bars.”

He snorts a laugh, fuck he’s handsome, nodding his head, “You’re gonna make me work for it, aren’t you?” he asks amused, looking at you through his lashes.

“Well, it’s either that, or you really want to get to know me for my striking personality” you answer, gaining more confidence by his reaction. It’s not like you’re gonna see him again, right?

He nods his head in amusement, “You didn’t answer my question, though.” he reminds you. You roll your eyes playfully before you tease him, “You’re right, I’m not from around here and technically that was an observation, not a question.”, you raise your cold beer pointing it his way, nodding your head in a silent thank you and then you drink from it.

He stops with his glass midair, brows raising, smirking at you. “Ok, fine, you want a real question, I’ll give ya one. Why do you look so damn sad?”, his head tilting to the side, his ear almost touching the shoulder of the arm he rests on the counter. His eyes are piercing holes in yours, making you feel vulnerable. “Uh, I-, I-, shit; that bad, huh? And there I was, thinking I was holding my own.” you mutter.

“Darlin’, someone like you, sitting on your own, not looking around to notice the number of eyes ogling you, lost in your own thoughts, doesn’t take much to figure it out..”

“Someone like me.. you mean troubled?”, you try to clarify, troubled being the only translation your mind could manage.

“I mean beautiful.”, the man delivers. Oh. His voice and his gaze determined and serious as he speaks, making you weak on the knees.

You give him a shy smile and deflect the compliment. “Most men don’t observe half of what you just said.”, you deadpan and as he opens his mouth to answer you, you add “but you’re not most men, are you?”

He’s really looking at you now, it feels like he’s savoring your details and he just smiles. A beautiful, honest, kind of sheepish smile. It fades away quickly though, his face going serious again. He keeps his eyes on you, hitting you with his perceptiveness. “What did the fucker do?” you hear him ask you, suddenly.

“Wha- How did you- what makes you think-“, you are genuinely shocked, losing your train of thought.

“Humor me.”, is all he gives you, in a low voice.

His question felt so to the point, that there was no reason for you to deny it or avoid it, so you look back to your beer, fearing to see the denigration in his eyes.

You take a deep breath and simply state, “He left me, two months after I had our second daughter.” You exhale. It feels odd to hear your own voice, to feel your tongue move in your mouth, saying those words. You haven’t talked about it enough, actually -at all, if you’re being completely honest and it feels like you talk about someone else. It’s like you’re out of your body looking at you.

And now you wait. You wait for the pity, the uncomfortable silence, the unavoidable retreat. But none of those things come. You turn to look at him and he’s standing there, looking pissed. His body stiffens, his gaze darkens and you’re pretty sure that glass of whiskey in his hand, doesn’t have much life in it. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ..” it’s all he mutters as he closes his eyes in frustration, rubbing his free hand over his face.

“So much for small talk, huh?”, you continue laughing, trying to relieve his tension. It doesn’t take, though. Why did he took it so personally? He opens his eyes again, looking at you seriously with a deep frown on his face.

You begin to feel uncomfortable, so you do what you always do best. Try to make everyone else comfortable. You start talking to fill the silence. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know I’ve made mistakes, I wasn’t always the best wife, I was tired, I felt helpless at times, especially when raising two little girls with such a small age difference all on my own, not that that’s an excuse-“ you stop talking as he’s raising his hand in front of you to interrupt.

“Are you seriously blaming yourself right now?”, he sounds frustrated and confused, borderline offended.

“Well I’m not saying that what he did was ideal, I’m just trying to explain how hard it is to be practically all alone with two kids and how much it takes from you, how the balance is changing between the couple-”

“Ideal? That’s an interesting choice of word.”, he observes once again. Nice, you didn’t think he would catch that.

“You can’t keep anyone in your life by force. I won’t. I can’t control his feelings. It was the way he handled things that pained me the most.”, you explain.

He’s staring at you like you’re a fucking puzzle.

You sigh and continue, taking a deep breath, feeling defeated already. How you could possibly explain and how he could possibly understand? “I know most men don’t get it; you can’t understand how difficult it is to be responsible for two little people, making every decision, every second of every day, it’s exhausting, it drains you-“

“I know..” he whispers, looking at his glass, nodding his head in understanding.

“No, you don’t..” you mutter, mostly to yourself, shaking your head. He’s examining you for a second, considering if he wants to elaborate. He does.

“Sweetheart, I’m a single parent from the moment my daughter was born. Trust me when I say I know.”, he explains softly. “I get it.” His voice feels like honey to your ears.

You snap your head in his direction, shocked at his admission. He sees the cogs turning in your head, the sorrow starting to appear in your eyes and he adds with a bitter smile, “No, she didn’t die, she just left.”

Your eyes widen, unable to imagine what could have led a mother to that decision. But you immediately stop yourself. You don’t have the whole picture and it’s none of your business. You don’t get to judge. All you can say is “Fuck. That must have been hard for you.”

There’s a shift in the air, like some invisible little string connected you somehow, each of you with their own story, finding an understanding in each other.

As the conversation progresses he can’t help but wonder how did he get to that point. He was looking for a good time, maybe a blowjob or quickie in the bar’s bathroom and he ended up talking to you about his life. His daughter, his struggles. Voluntarily. And it felt good, easy, natural.

You laugh softly, out of context, shaking your head and he wants to know why. “I just-” you think again before you speak, “when you approached me I wasn’t even sure I could do that.”

“Do what?”, he asks in confusion.

“Talk to you.”, you admit.

“How do you mean?”, his brows furrow and his head tilt on one side, the edges of his mouth turning slightly upward. Stop doing that. It’s sexy.

“You know, me, sitting in a bar, talking to a stranger, it felt like I haven’t done this in forever.” It feels oddly liberating talking to him, almost like a confession.

“And how does it feel now?” he wants to know, his voice soft but commanding.

“It feels good.”, you give it to him. He makes you feel good and you want him to know.

“Good girl.”, he responds, his voice low, keeping his gaze on you, wondering how you’ll react. Oh, boy. Well, your panties are ruined. You bite your bottom lip and play along. See where it gets you. He sees that. The longing starts to become apparent on your face, in the way your lips part, your breath becomes shorter and your body subconsciously reacts to him, because you turn around in your seat, facing him fully. You clench your thighs in an effort to relieve some pressure between your legs. He sees it all.

“Although it’s a shame I didn’t get to witness you do your thing.”, you let him wonder.

His brows are raised in question, “My thing?”, he looks intrigued more than he’d like to admit. Gotcha.

“Yeah, I burdened you with my shit and I missed the chance of you flirting with me.” Someone feels ballsy. You don’t recognize yourself right now, but who cares, right?

“What makes you think I wanted to flirt with you?” he questions, almost genuinely. Almost. You freeze for a second, feeling like an idiot, but then you see him wink at you behind his raised glass.

“Right,” you drag the word, “so, you really wanted to get to know me for my striking personality”, you smile back to him.

He laughs. Genuinely. Beautifully. “Do you want me to flirt with you?” he pushes you, testing the waters. But not really. He knows he has your full attention.

“Sure, you seem like you can handle yourself.”, you answer before you overthink it and freak out.

He chuckles softly and he leans to you, right next to your flushed face, looking behind your shoulder and then down at you, his lips brushing your ear, his sparse beard tickling your cheek, one hand still on the bar and the other moving at the back of your seat, caging you. His scent invades your space, making you feel lightheaded. “Baby, you have no idea.” Your whole body is vibrating with want.

He doesn’t want to take you in the bathroom anymore.

He can see you; clearly than you can see yourself. He knows you now. He understands. He can see your path, the struggles, the challenges, the worries that lie ahead on your way. He walked that path. He bled that path. He navigates it with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back.

He doesn’t want to take you in the bathroom anymore.

He wants to take care of you. To breathe pleasure into you, to give you all that he abandoned for his daughter’s sake, to make you feel wanted and loved. He wants you to know that you matter to someone. That he’s gonna take his time with you, savor you, taste every inch of your body, spread you out on his bed and make you scream his name, while you tremble under his touch, his mouth, his cock.

You don’t feel like a bathroom quickie anymore. He wants more. Even if it is just for one night. Just one night. Suddenly the thought becomes unpleasant.

You turn your head to his side and search for his eyes. He responds to your plea by looking back at you. Your lips are inches apart, nearly touching. You stare at his brown, chocolaty orbs, then his plush lips, slightly open and can’t help but imagine your tongue entering his mouth, penetrating them.

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself mentally. You want to feel him any way you can, right fucking now. You want his touch, his tongue, his cock but you’ll accept whatever he’s giving you.

Get up. Get up. Get up.

You want this. You got this. You slowly exhale through your nose and you nearly press your body against his chest to stand up. Your nose almost grazes his. You look at each other, both of you full of desire.

Full of promise.

He’s curious what you’re gonna do but he’s praying you won’t do what he expects you to. Not the bathroom, not the fuckin’ bathroom, he keeps chanting internally. Lemme take care of you. You put your palm on his chest lingering for a second, “Show me, then”, you whisper in his ear and you finally make it to the bathroom. That, took every ounce of courage you had in you. Goddamn.

As you enter inside, thankfully it’s empty, you look at yourself in the mirror. You try to comprehend who are you right now, what you’re about to do. You don’t even remember how it feels to have someone else giving you pleasure. To touch you. To make you-

You hear the door opening and closing, followed by the sound of the lock. He slowly walks to you, letting you study him, through his reflection on the mirror. Giving you time to change your mind. Please change your mind. He looks so good. So good that you have to turn around and face him.

His salt and pepper hair tousled but neat at the same time, his curls above his neck making you want to tug them. Hard.

His eyes are dark, full of hunger and desire. Your eyes fall at his parted lips and then to his chiseled jawline with his sparse hair for a beard. You wanna bite every inch of it. Hard.

His frame is imposing; tall, broad, his thick forearms bulging through his black shirt, his toned thighs strained by his dark jeans. And then you see his bulge. He looks big, considerably big.

“Like what you see?”, he smiles confidently, his low timbre making you realize that you’ve been staring.

You blush in embarrassment, looking down and biting your bottom lip. He enters your comfort zone now, his hand pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head upward to look at him. “No need to be shy, sweetheart; I like what I see, too.”, his thumb rests lightly on your bottom lip and presses down, to free it from under your teeth.

His other hand holds your waist drawing you close to his body, his erection touching your lower stomach. You let out a small sigh.

His scent is intoxicating. It’s a mix of his fainted cologne, the smoke of cigarettes lingering in the air, the alcohol on his breath and something unique. Something his entirely. His sweat absorbed by the fabric of his clothes. The more you inhale it the wetter you get. Saliva pools in your mouth, making you swallow hard.

You squirm in your place, squeezing your legs together. He notices. Of course he notices, like he did back at the bar. Reading between your words.

He caresses your ear with his lips, whispering, “It’s ok sweetheart, I'm gonna take good care of you.” He places one hand behind your head, gently bringing you closer to him. His other one rests on your back, slowly making his way down to your ass. You look at him, surrendered to his touch. Oddly, you feel safe.

“Fuck..” you breath out.

He smiles, a little full of himself, normally it would piss you off, but right now you don’t care. He ghosts his lips along yours and he softly kisses the edge of your mouth. He places kisses along your jawline and leaves an open-mouthed kiss between your ear and your jaw. Your body shakes with goosebumps, making your knees almost buckle, his hold on your ass tightens, keeping you in place.

You can’t think of anything right now and that’s exactly what you want. Not your soon-to-be ex-husband, not your messed up life, not even the poor attempt of an outfit you wore tonight out of boredom. Plain black jeans and a lingerie black shirt. Of course with a black lacy bra under it, you’re not that adventurous.

His mouth travels to the column of your neck licking it softly from top to bottom, biting gently where it meets with your shoulder. Your cunt clenches hard, pooling more of your arousal on your already-drenched underwear. His tongue is so warm and velvety, making your eyes roll in your head. Your hands- where are your hands? One on his toned shoulder and the other on his hair, tugging his curls.

You realize that he’s softer in his touch than you would imagine for a bathroom fuck. He moves so fluidly, expertly, you feel mesmerized and a tiny part of you inexperienced and self conscious.

“I- I haven’t done this before..” you feel the need to confess, worried that you’ll do something wrong.

“I thought you had two kids.” he raises his head, tilting it, while looking at you through his lashes and bites his cheek to hide his smirk.

You stare at him for a moment and then you both burst into laughter.

You shake your head in mocking disapproval and explain, “..not the deed, the- the one-time thing..” and you bite your lip in discomfort afraid of his reaction.

His eyes are searching yours and he finally asks, “Who says this is a one-time thing?”. Bold. Surely he’s messing with you. Your breath catches on your throat, that was the last reaction you would expect. You try to read his face but he gives you nothing. You can’t figure out if he meant that or was just teasing. He nudges your nose with his, relax, baby, he whispers and he resumes his kissing path down your neck and to your chest.

He’s taking his sweet time with you. He wants to get you out of this damn bathroom. He wants to fuckin’ wreck you and he can't do that here. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable either by proposing a different setting, in case this is indeed how you want it, so he does what he knows. He’s driving you crazy. He’s gonna make you beg him to get out of here. To take you somewhere else, more comfortable. Anywhere but here. Unless someone interrupts you, making you take this elsewhere. Either way works.

You’re both panting from desire, his head moving back against yours, your foreheads touching together. He grabs the sides of your head with both his hands, while yours move around his waist, pulling him as close as possible. He’s going to finally kiss you, your lips almost touching each other’s, breathing one another’s exhale.

A loud knock on the door startles you and you jump in place. “Come on, man! Are you done yet?” The stranger smiles against your lips, pleased with his plan. He’s so ready to take you out of here, worship you like you deserve.

But the spell is broken. You come back to your senses. You’re in a dirty bathroom. With a total stranger. A handsome, funny, sexy stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. What are you doing? This is not you. This is not how you do things. You have two kids back home waiting for you. You try to shake the thought out of your mind. You are a woman, too. You have needs. Needs that this man can meet with ease. No, there are people outside, waiting to use the bathroom. How are you gonna get out of here? Everyone will know what you’ve done. What are you doing?

The man detects your stiffness, the change in your breathing. You’re starting to hyperventilate. “Hey, hey, are you ok?”.

Your brain is overwhelmed, you don’t know how to respond. The knocking on the door gets louder now, more insistent.

“Give me a goddamn minute!”, the man shouts behind his back. His attention returns to you, full of concern, talking to you like all the time in the world is yours, like nothing else matters. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You wanna get out of here?”, his hands are still on the sides of your head, his eyes full of worry now.

“I- I need-” your breathing is getting harder and harder. “I’m sorry, I need to get out of here, I-” you push his hands away from your face.

He lets you, raising his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok darlin’, my truck is parked just outside, let me-”

“NO- No,” you don’t let him finish his thought, “I’ll leave on my own, I’m sorry, I can’t-” you just want to disappear, you know how you must sound and look but it’s out of your control.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that darlin’, I just wanna make sure you’re safe-”. But you’re not listening to what he’s saying to you, not really.

He wants to touch you again, hold you, make you feel safe. Protected. He wants you- no, needs you to know that it’s ok.

But he’s a stranger to you, so he resists the urge.

You walk away from him, unlock the door, open it forcefully and burst out of the bathroom, looking down. You don’t want to meet the eyes of the intruder outside the door. Any eye contact would make you feel vulnerable right now, exposed. With your head down you reach for your bag and jacket left on the stool you were sitting on, -what were you thinking, you could have been mugged- and you run to the exit door.

The man is right behind you, searching for you in the packed bar. You grab the handle, you open the door and you stand still for a moment turning your head to look at him one last time.

His eyes catch the door movement and his gaze locks with yours. His expression is sad and worried, not an ounce of anger or disapproval.

I don’t even know your name, you think with sadness.

He’s making a move to come after you but then you let yourself out of the bar. The stranger doesn’t have time but to whisper “I don’t even know your name..”

ONE WEEK LATER

You’re looking yourself in the mirror while you’re getting ready for dinner. Trish wants to introduce you to her cousins; although you and her are best friends, you never got to meet them. Maybe because you both lived out of Texas, before. She came back not so long ago, you followed to get your life back. Now that you’re living with her, she wants the four of you to hang out. She says they’re great guys. Joel and Tommy. Whatever.

You’re looking harder in the mirror now, searching for any sign to indicate what happened a few days ago at that god’s forsaken bar was real. A bruise, a bite, a redness, anything. But there’s nothing. Like he didn’t want to leave a trace. Like he was a figment of your imagination.

Half of you wants to forget about him, half of you is hanging on tight on every little detail you can recall of that night.

Of him.

His deep voice, the warmth of his eyes, his smart smile, the way he put your body on fire with minimum touch. You wish he would have fucked you hard and fast against the sink, before you had time to overthink, before you became a coward, to leave you with something more to remember him by.

You still feel the burn between your legs every time you think about him. And as many times as you tried to extinguish this fire inside you, with your fingers, or your pillow, or your vibrator, it just. Isn’t. Enough.

Just- get him out of your head, you force your mind. You don’t even know his name. You spilled your guts to him, almost fucked him and you don’t even got his name. Who does that?

Well, he didn’t get your name either, but obviously that was not the same. He looked like he knew what he was doing and if he does it that often, at the end of the day what does another name matter?

Joel is grabbing his wallet and cellphone off the console next to the door yelling to Tommy and Sarah, “Guys, you’re coming yet? We’re gonna be late, Trish is gonna be all over us, come on.”

Tommy and Sarah pause the movie they’re watching with an audible groan and emerge from the living room, putting their shoes on. “What is tonight about, again?” Tommy asks in boredom.

“Uh, not really sure, we’re gonna have dinner together and some lady friend of Trish is gonna be there, I think she’s letting her stay with her for a while.” Joel mutters.

“Oh, a lady friend,” Tommy insists, winking his eye to Sarah and she rolls her eyes to him. “Is she hot or what?”.

Joel glares at Tommy “Don’t know, don’t care Tommy, I think she’s got kids or something. Take the toolbox to the truck to fix the bathroom cabinet since we’re going.”

Tommy looks disappointed “Damn, not my cup of tea, then.”

“You and me both.” Joel sighs through his teeth. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

You hear the doorbell ring and you check on the girls before you make your way downstairs. They’re asleep on their beds. You can finally relax. You hear Trish calling you, “Hey, babe, they’re here!” As you go down the stairs you see a handsome man with dark curls entering the hallway along with a young woman in her twenties.

“Heeeey, you’re here!!” Trish sounds so exited. “Hey cousin, it’s been a while!” Tommy responds, hugging her with one arm around her waist. Sarah takes her turn hugging her aunt in silence and with a warm smile.

Then the three of them turn to the sound of your feet on the stairs. “And that’s my friend I was telling you about!” Trish introduces you by name and you approach Tommy and Sarah to handshake them.

When you look at Tommy’s face from a closer distance he seems familiar to you in a strange way, but you don’t give it any more thought. He looks like someone who likes what he sees, judging by the flirty smile he gives you. “Hi, darlin’, nice to meet you!”, is his first response to you. You smile politely “ You, too!”

You turn your attention to the young lady then, Tommy’s eyes still linger a little too long for your liking. Not because he’s not easy on the eyes, far from it. You’re simply not ready for that. And you proved that to yourself last week. You let the most handsome stranger you’ve ever met, slip through your fingers. You didn’t even got his name.

Idiot.

Jesus Christ, not now, let him go, focus. “Hello Sarah, I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to put a face to the stories!”.

Sarah laughs, glaring at Trish “I bet the stories are really funny! I only hope my aunt exposed herself, too, in the process!”

You give Sarah a one-sided smirk, looking at her conspiratorially, ��Well, you know Trish, she’s never holding back!”, you all laugh vividly.

You already feel more relaxed, Tommy and Sarah seem so nice, easy going, it will be great to make new friends. Trish was right for wanting you to meet them so soon after you arrived here.

It brings an air of normalcy, it feels like, although slowly and fucking painfully, your life takes an actual.. shape. You’re here. You exist. You are being seen as a living human being. You are talked to, admired, cared for, building a circle of people in your life, each one with their own place and role in your heart. And that means you’re trying. You’re not giving up, you’re moving forward, for you, for your children most importantly. These thoughts create a warmth inside you, a sense of hope that everything’s going to be ok.

And then it happens.

His voice is the first thing you register as he makes his presence known. “Goddamnit Tommy, I asked you for one thing before we leave the house. One.”, he addresses his brother from a distance. “Of course I have to remember everything myself.”, he mutters to himself, shaking his head disapprovingly.

The hair on the back of your neck is rising. You could recognize his voice among thousands. But that couldn’t be right. It can’t be. There is no way the voice will match the face. So, you turn your head to the entrance.

First, you see his boots going up the stairs of the porch, next your eyes land on his lower and then upper body, fit thighs, covered in dark jeans, thin waist hugged by a black belt, broad torso clothed in a black t-shirt and a green flannel. You don’t consciously recognize what -or who- you see yet, but your heartbeat spikes and your breathing becomes quicker.

You look further up, his head is tilted down, he’s trying to put his car keys in his front jean pocket, the salt and pepper curls looking oddly familiar.

And then he raises his head.

It’s instant.

Your heart skips a beat, your breath catches on your throat, your mouth goes dry, you stomach clenches, your body feels on fire. Even your fingertips feel numb. Your mind floods you with memories of him.

His scent, his touch, the need he awakened inside you. His gaze locks with yours, like that night, stopping him in his tracks, right before the entrance of the house, both of you unable to look anywhere else. He keeps staring at your face, fearing that if he so much as roams his eyes to the rest of you, you’ll disappear.

You can’t quite read his expression, he looks- well he looks hot- but apart from that, he seems surprised, disturbed, almost.. pained?

Somewhere from behind you, you hear “Uuuuh, and this sunshine, is my brother, Joel.”

Joel.

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chronically-ghosted · 1 year

Text

the only thing we have to fuck is fear itself

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 5309

summary: You get drunk at a happy hour and tell Max to his face you don’t find him scary at all. He takes that personally.

warnings/tags: drinking, like two seconds of scary vibes, smut, (secret) established relationship, work hard, play hard, have secret sex with your coworker even harder

a/n: I’m so sorry to FDR for butchering his quote for the sake of a title, but i like to think that horny bastard would have loved my smut.

🤍AO3 Link 🤍 Masterlist 🤍 Get notified when I post new works!

Despite working at a place that was quite literally soul-sucking, your coworkers could throw one hell of a happy-hour.

There wasn’t a bartender in a ten mile radius from the office who didn’t know you all by name, didn’t shout a greeting over the tightly-packed house the instant you walked in. Rarely was it just a single crew member at the bars – you often got accused of moving in a pack like a five-headed hydra that could drink double its own weight in liquor, beer, and frosés – and being only two-fifths human, the Monster Squad was an alcoholic force to be reckoned with.

Maybe because you actively promoted unity amongst the species, like poster children for positive and “non-toxic human-demon relationships” HR kept encouraging in their Monday-Funday email blasts, but your little group was something of a legend in the area. You thought any notoriety was more likely due more to your faces plastered all over the bars’ trivia night winner boards, but in the office, people tended to stare. Trish, a siren from Santa Barbara, loved the attention, said it was good for her skin – gave her a “dewy” look. Nita, the only other human in your group besides you, disagreed with Ken (a quarter leprechaun on his mother’s side) when Ken claimed the whispering came from the sheer volume of nonsense that started around 4PM in the office on Fridays and continued until you all left the office. Ken was of the belief that the notoriety was actually infamy – to which he was promptly booed and had to buy the next round.

And yet, to yourself, to the quiet conversations you had in the bathroom mirror after two long island ice teas and whatever was in what the centaur bartender at Lucky’s called an “Ass Whooping”, you suspected there might be another reason the Monster Squad even had a name at all. Within your own fields, each of you were respectable – Ken and Trish were both heads of marketing and Nita oversaw a considerable team of engineers, with you of course a department leader over in legal – one member of your group was, let’s say, more well-known.

Well-known because he was the flashiest, the loudest, and certainly the most demonic of you all: Max Phillips, VP of sales, money-maker extraordinaire, and a fan-favorite amongst your Overlords, the rest of the sales team, and anyone with working and interested sex organs in the near vicinity.

To your complete and utter annoyance.

You don’t quite remember how you all came together, who brought who into the group, and when it was unanimously decided that you’d stop snatching up office workers like limes at $5 margarita night after Trish, but it was Max who kept you together, who set up the group chat (somehow mysteriously gathering all of your phone numbers after a very late night), who bullied anyone who responded to his weekly “winner winner liquid dinner” texts every Friday morning with a tepid maybe into coming out that night. He already seemed to know half of the bartenders in the city, all of whom were happy to send over a free round of tequila shots as a “thank you to Max’s friends”. While you’d never look a gift vampire in the mouth, you were suspicious of his influence. Was that vampire hypnosis real? Did he have a pack of lesser, baby vamps to send out to tenderize the hunting grounds?

One thing’s for sure, he definitely didn’t scare them into it.

“Has Halloween, like, changed for anyone else?” Nita grouched over her second Sangria Spritzer two hours into another fantabulous happy hour at Heel Clicks. The four of you were huddled into your comically small booth up on the landing near the back bar – of course there were other seats available but this had the best view, the closest access to your favorite bartender, and at some point, the shoulder-to-shoulder proximity served as a way to counteract the tipsy swaying.

Trish leaned around Ken, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Nita shrugged hopelessly. “It used to be one of my favorite holidays when I was a kid. I loved the candy, the costumes – all of it. But I really liked being scared the most.”

Ken sorted into his old-fashioned. “Well, if you’re still scared of things you were as a kid, Nit, I think you’ve got a bigger problem than seasonal preference.”

She elbows him and he knocks into Trish.

“Not like that . . . but, like, monster movies aren’t really scary anymore? I mean, I used to watch Ginger Snaps religiously around Halloween, but, uh, now that I know an actual werewolf and he’s the nicest little old man in accounting, I dunno . . . it’s just not the same.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble on monsters,” Ken shrugged. “But I personally cannot relate. As a member of the Free Folk, my people have always been welcomed, seen as bringers of good will towards man.”

“You know there’s eight movies where a leprechaun murders literally dozens of teenagers, right?” You turned to Ken over Nita, your entire right buttcheek hanging off the edge of the booth.

“Oh, yeah, baby Jennifer Aniston,” Trish mused, thinking. “If that’s what your uncle looks like, Ken, then I posit Halloween is still fucking creepy.”

“Halloween is definitely creepy and it sucks.” Your ringleader has returned with electric-green jello shots. Max Phillips carried a tray with one hand, his immaculate blue jacket gone to display firm forearms underneath his white, rolled-back sleeves. “Bunch up, kiddies, Daddy’s back with treats.”

Half the group groaned, the other squealed in delight.

Max hip-bumped you, his ravenous cologne immediately making you think unwise thoughts, as he pushed his way onto the bench absolutely not made for this many people. He looked back at you as he passed out the drinks.

“Now why are we all in agreement that Halloween is a lame holiday?”

“Nita claims that because she personally knows a werewolf – Ned, right? – she’s not scared of monster movies anymore.”

Max scoffed. “Well, there’s your problem right there. Werewolves were never scary to begin with.”

“What monster movies have you been watching?” Nita gaped at him. “Maybe it’s bad representation, but all the movie werewolves can tear you to shreds!”

Ken nodded solemnly. “This is why affirmative action is so important.”

Trish smacked him over the back of the head.

“So, what?” Max continued, crunching up the jello in its plastic cup. “Now that you know me, a vampire, you think all Dracula movies give blood-suckers a bad rap?”

“No, being a human-sized mosquito with too much hair gel is doing that all on its own.” You smirked, dead-eyed, at him. Behind you, Ken and Trish snorted so hard they almost spilled their drinks.

Max narrowed his eyes at you, in a look he only gave you when you wouldn’t let him ease around legal loopholes “for the good of the business”. Only Nita seemed to be oblivious.

“That’s a good point, Max.” She thoughtfully stirred her jello with her pinky, unsticking it from the sides of her cup. “I mean, I guess I never watched that many vampire movies to begin with.”

Max broke his heated staring contest with you to look around at Nita, elbow pressing up into your chest as he leaned forward on the table. “I can promise you, doll face, vampires have been and always will be more terrifying and lethal than werewolves.”

“Not the argument I think you want to make, mate,” Ken murmured as you shifted yourself to face Max entirely.

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten us all –,”

“Nope,” Trish called down the row, “we’re taking this shot before you two get into it again.”

“To Ned!” Ken yelled.

“To Ned!”

Plastic crunched, tongues slurped, as jello ungracefully slipped into every open mouth down the bench. You licked your lip, tip of your tongue green. Max watched the movement out of the corner of his eye.

“So, enlighten us, Max, why should we be so afraid of you?”

Max grinned out the side of his mouth. “One, I’ve seen more bite out of a pomeranian than one of those Tribbles. And two, whatever-wolves can only get it up once a month. I’m all monster, all the time, baby.”

At this, everyone groaned.

“Dollar to the Dick Jar!” Trish smacked her hand on the table.

“Here, here!”

Max pouted as he took a dollar out of his wallet and slammed it into the center of the table, payment towards tips or the bill or whoever suffered the most due to The Dick.

“Face it, buzz,” you shrugged as he put his wallet away. “You’re just not scary any more, if you ever were.”

“Is that right?”

Fuck, you were in a lot of trouble. Beneath the table, his thigh soaked yours in heat.

“That’s right.”

“You know what is really scary?” Ken muttered, digging around in his crushed up for the last remnants of jello. “Kelpies.”

“Ah – yes! They’ve got sloppy fangs covered in algae!”

“Hey – that’s my cousin you’re talking about!”

Heel Clicks was hands down one of your favorite bars in the area. Devoted to the local music scene in the area, the vibe was a mix of old 70s rock bands, modern steel, and whatever justified lots of mounted horns and hairy cow-skin stools. The drinks were great, seasonal too, and there was always live music on the patio out back. In a twist that you found particularly cool, the old rum-runners tunnels had been converted to comfortably spacious bathrooms in the basement. Behind the solid oak door, the noises from the above bar are nearly entirely muffled, making the slow descent to the bathroom something of an out-of-body experience when you’ve had a few and the sudden silence is almost an echo.

Plus, these fucking stairs are a death trap.

You embarrassingly clutched at the railing, the wooden stairs at far too sharp an angle even if you were sober as a judge, much less at a Monster Squad happy hour.

Stupid Max and his stupid drinks and his –

What was that?

You stand up right on the third to last step, listening.

In the half darkness in front of you, there are three paths available. To the left, employee storage, the lights above the door flickering, the sign reading “do not enter” pulsating in and out of visibility. To your right, another door, maybe an exit. Always unmarked and always locked every time your drunken curiosity got the better of you.

And across from the stairs were the bathrooms, left women, right for men.

God, what year is it? Shouldn’t it all just be gender-neutral? You think to yourself, a tad bit more aggressive than you’d usually oppose the gender binary – primarily to wash out the rising concern at the back of your neck.

You are alone down here. It’s obvious. It’s not like there’s that many places for some dastardly villain to hide. Four shut doors and three hallways. Unless some maniac was curled up under the stairs, you are the only person in the basement.

At least, the only person you can see.

You don’t realize how sweaty your hands are until you try to continue your way down the stairs. You take a step and nearly slip, the eyes you know are on you somehow laughing.

One blinking light. No where for anything to hide, so why are you so nervous? You are an adult woman, for god’s sakes. You make it to the floor, the most likely candidate for your demise behind you and –

The stairs creaked.

The empty stairs that you just walked down creaked and you nearly leap across the hallway to put space between you. Heart in your throat, you make the monumentally stupid decision and call out, “hello? Is anyone there?”

As if the serial killer was just going to announce himself, give up the whole element of surprise.

Blinking through the bleary haze of too many drinks, you take out your phone and flip on the light. A white beam chases back the encroaching darkness, a frantic worried ghost peering through the gloom. And yet, like you consciously know, there’s nothing there. But the darkness feels heavier, the eerie distant noise from the bar above so quiet and removed the sound is more of a memory – the idea of what comfort and community should sound like. But it’s not. It’s too far gone – if anything were to happen, it’d be hours before they found you. If they did at all.

“Oh my god,” you scold yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Get a fucking grip and go pee and then go back up those fucking stairs and –,”

Okay, that was definitely breathing.

Breathing, right behind you. Ragged, hungry, disembodied breathing, in your ear and your heart ricochets into your chest. Your own breath turns short, choppy, panic swelling into your ears, over your fingers. You think you might drop your phone, your fingers are so numb from fear, so you clutch tighter, the trembling throwing white light across the paneled wood in a craze.

Be rational, this is crazy, there is nothing down here!

The stairs snarl again and you squeak, all but bolting for the women’s bathroom, desperate to put at least some space between you and those fucking stairs, put some boundaries between –

The door is locked. When the fuck is this door ever locked?

Panic recedes to overwhelming rage because fuck, fuck, fuck, now you’re trapped in here – you can’t go back to the stairs – you rattle the handle, shaking the door against its lock –

“Fucking let me in!”

The light above the exit door goes out. And then the other. You throw all of your weight against the bathroom door. You claw at the handle, begging it to give way.

Fuck, fuck, fuck – you can hear the darkness breathing –

No, speaking – it’s saying something, chanting, mocking, calling out – calling out your name –

The door suddenly unlocks and you stumble forward – into something solid –

Its hands grab you and like a fucking fool, you played right into its trap.

It turns you, throws you up against the tile wall, its claws around your shoulders, cold tile against your cheek and you whimper. Whimper when you feel the soft pin-prick of fangs against the back of your neck – fuck, this is how it ends?? – and –

“Got you.”

That voice.

That condescending, snide, bratty, little –

You elbow the solid body behind you and Max lets out a puff of air, staggering back. You whip around, nearly snarling in his smirking, beautiful face. The bathroom is dark, black tiled walls and floors with a faux-wooden sink and dim lights across the top of the mirror. In the flushed orange light, his eyelashes encourage thick shadows under his eyes and in the collar of his throat. If it wasn’t for that insufferable smile, he’d look painted from thin brush strokes and heavy scarlet paint.

Caravaggio, eat your heart out.

“Max, what the fuck was that?”

He rolls his eyes, rubbing the spot on his chest where you hit him, at the top of his ribcage. “Oh, c’mon, it was just some fun. Saw you sneak off after you got Nita’s drink and thought I’d mess with you just a bit.”

You sigh, willing your heart to slow down, throwing your gaze to the ceiling and dropping your head against the tile.

“God, you asshole, I thought I was gonna die.” You swallow and move your hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I what?”

“You scared –,”

That smile, the crack of fangs across his mouth, widens, the bottom of his lip rolling back over the cut of his teeth, those brown eyes melting into a warm, obscene black, as he meets you hip first against the wall.

His hands climb over your waist, as though daring you to hit him again, and your thigh muscles tighten. Your hands instinctively trace the exposed skin left by his opened collar at the dip of his throat when he comes closer, chest pressing up against yours, nose against your temple.

Fuck, it shouldn’t be this easy for him. You sigh through your nose, eyes rolling shut, when he nips at your cheek.

“I think you were supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am,” you groan. “I’m livid. I’m enraged. I’m –,”

His thumb brushes your ribs – not tickling, not entirely touching, but just reminding. Reminding of the force behind his touch, behind his teeth.

“Baby girl,” he chuckles softly, the sound running down your neck like rain, “you’re melting in my arms.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m scared of you.” You focus on the softness of his hair between your fingers, the heat of the back of his neck beneath the pads of your fingertips – resolutely ignoring the radiating scent of his cologne coming from up under his collar. More than once had he come across you in his apartment bathroom, sniffing that bottle like some dopey perv looking for a quick fix. Of course, instead of admonishing you, he bent you over his sink and fucked the daylights out of you, his wrists singing with the smell of that cologne. Now he wore it to work wherever he wanted something from you, particularly to overlook some pesky lines of legalise.

In the hallowed darkness of the bar’s bathroom, he drops a single kiss just below your jaw, inches beneath your ear. He grumbles when your pulse there quickens, and again his fangs find a curve of skin to press against – a reminder.

Always reminding, always lurking, a threat without a promise.

And he knows exactly what that does to you.

You release a full body shudder when his hands drop lower, guiding you back against the wall, fingers rounding around your thighs. Like interlocking pieces, your bodies slide together, your arms curling around his neck, the heat of his chest branding yours as it forces you against the wall. You’re breathing all wrong again, but for different reasons this time. You catch a flash of the ink-well darkness of his eyes when he nuzzles out of your neck to admire the mess he has made of your skirt.

“Can I fuck you in this or is this thing too tight?” He asks, like he specifically didn’t get on his hands and knees and beg you to wear that gray pencil skirt only twelve hours earlier.

You lean up, snagging his bottom lip between your teeth, kissing him roughly and showing him he’s not the only one with a little bite. He groans softly, one hand curling into your hair at the base of your skull, and he licks you, from the front of your lips up to the valley of your mouth. He tastes like the sweetness of his whiskey n’ coke, his tongue rubbing the flexing muscle of yours, the sharpness of your molars. You could spend hours just sucking on his plush mouth.

Maybe he did scare you. Maybe he should have scared you more, the threat of anyone discovering your relationship a real danger to both of your careers. Maybe it should have scared you, how little you cared about any of that when he palmed your breast over your shirt.

You inhaled over his mouth, popping off his lips with a moan, his hand cupping you roughly as he dove in to suck marks on your neck. Every moment that passes, you feel your skin ratcheting up with heat, blood almost hot. He thumbs your perk nipple through your shirt and you arch your chest, his massive palm nearly cupping your ribs to your spine.

“Max, either you figure out how to fuck me in this skirt or you owe me a new one.”

“You want me to rip it off you?” He slurs, eyelids heavy, his thigh slides in between your knees, the fabric preventing him from going higher, to the place where you both need him. You groan in frustration and his hands squeeze your hips at the sound. “Tell me fast, baby, because I can’t–,”

“For the love of – just fucking lift it up–,” His hands fumble over yours as your fingers curl under the hem, his own want making that brilliant mind for numbers almost stupid. His warm fingers overwhelm your own as they push your skirt up your waist, and then dig around the line of your pantyhose.

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to Fort Knox me out of your pussy? Why are there so many layers?”

You hiss at him as you slide out of your heels and shove your nylons to the ground, hopping on one leg to take them off your feet. “It’s like you’ve never undressed me before.”

Freed of the chaos of your underthings, Max’s hands rush to his belt, the clinking of the metal sending shivers down your back and straight up your cunt. He doesn’t notice because he’s obsessively watching your thighs. “I’ve never undressed you with our coworkers a floor above us and probably becoming increasingly suspicious about where the fuck we are–,”

You take him by the back of the neck, hand clenching around the starch white of his shoulder. He comes to you, zipper digging into your hip bone as he pulls you up off your feet. For once that chatty mouth is quiet, open and wet with desire as he takes in your flushed face, the blood pumping under your tits. Max is nothing if not almost supernaturally consumed by the look, feel, texture, and taste of your tits.

The look on his face is one of those reasons you tend to throw caution to the wind, why your heart almost feels too big for your chest, whenever he’s around.

He hooks an arm around your low back, tilting your hips forward. You feel the heat of his cock somewhere below you and it takes all of your strength not to grind down.

“Max –,” he’s not even inside of you and you’re already begging. You bite down on his ear to stifle whatever was rising up your throat.

“Hang on, baby, I gotta make sure you . . .”

Using your shoulders as counterbalance, he holds himself up against the wet warmth of your cunt, breath stuttering as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds. That bratty aloofness is gone; he wants to sink so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, baby, I didn’t even get you ready – but you’re already so wet –,”

You don’t resist grinding down now and he knocks his shoulders forward, needing movement, but fighting against the urge to buck up into you, gasping from the feeling of your cunt.

“Please, Max, just –,”

“Yeah, I know, baby, okay, just, I gotta . . .”

He angles himself and you arch your back, unable to watch with the mess of your skirt around your waist, but he finds it, finds your opening, the place he loves to mark, and without any warning, thrusts his length up into you.

The stretch, the surprise, the ear-ringing split between being empty and then stuffed so full – you can’t help but moan so loudly, you sing to the ceiling. For a moment, your bodies hum with the stillness, the blood in your cunt pulsating around him, you claw at his broad shoulders, need him closer, needing that smell of him that haunts your empty bed as far inside of you as his cock is. His hips stutter and he presses one hand against the tile by your ribs, teeth clenched against the sensation.

“When I fuck you, every time feels like the first time. Every goddamn time.”

It’s not particularly the confession it could be, but you shake your head, clearing it of anything stupid like feelings for Max Phillips, your chin brushing his jaw, his nose against your ear.

“Then do it,” you whine. “Just fuck me, Max.”

With a groan that could be mistaken for a snarl, he lifts you both up right, pushing your hips down and spreading yourself over him. You lock your ankles around his back a second before he pulls out halfway, then to jerk back in with such force and precision your eyes roll to the back of your head. He sets a pace that has pleasure weaving a tight drum just under your stomach. Each sweaty thrust fires sparks up your spine. He really is so fucking good at this.

This is the release you need, you both need. Sure, it’s an after-effect of having a high-powered job, but it’s also more than that. Max fucking you is unfortunately very often the highlight of your day. He knows what you need, how you need it – how hard to drive his cock into you, it makes you tongue-tied and dizzy. The fast pump of his cock, how it feels to split you apart over and over again, the back zipper of your skirt digging into your back – it’s too fucking good.

“Don’t know where you get off giving me orders,” he grunts, the pounding of his hips into yours rapidly shoving you up your ascension. The slapping, wet noise in the empty room is obscene. “I’m a fucking VP, little girl, and I–,”

You tense your muscles around his cock and he fumbles, his knees buckling momentarily.

“Do not fucking bring up the org chart right now,” you hiss, your own edge yanked away when he stills. “I’m almost there–,”

Quicker than he’s been all night, Max lunges forward, mouth open and teeth bare. He bites your neck and then he bites you.

Fangs puncture your skin, not deep, but enough that your body is thrown into a messy coil of nerves and adrenaline. It knows you could die like this, even if you’ve only ever called the vampire a mosquito to his face, and triggering a self-preservation instinct, your body trembles from the sudden blast of sensation.

Your pupils dilate further than they were, your skin becomes overly aware of every drop of sweat, every flutter of hair, every rub of flesh – and your fucking nerve-endings feel like static, as if brushed by lightning.

Pleasure so-white hot it almost burns roars up your spine, slick coating his cock inside you, and you cry out. Wail in his ear. Begging him to make it better. To give you your release. The feel of his cock pounding up inside your now-overly ripe cunt brings tears to your eyes.

“Oh, fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck – Max, p-please –,”

“Can you handle it if I touch you?”

You shake your head. “Yes, yes, please, touch me.”

“You can’t keep screaming like that,” he scolds you breathlessly, the punch of his hips bouncing you against his cheek. For all his vampire stamina, the flush of exertion across his cheeks is truly staggering and a triumph for your ego. Flecks of blood dot his mouth. “Someone’s going to come looking.”

“I don’t care,” you groan, angling your hips to take more of him. His hand not on your back cups under your knee, tugging it higher up his torso. His pace is relentless, overwhelming – with his weight on top of you, and his cock up under you, inside you, you’re consumed by Max Phillips. “Whatever you do, d-don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“You scared I’m gonna?”

“Yes,” you whine. You can feel your heart pounding out its shape into your ribs.

“Good girl. And good girls get to fucking come.”

Balancing your increasingly limp body, he holds you up right, his hand snaking beneath your skirt, between the sweat of your thighs and his torso, and –

He thumbs that buzzing bundle of nerves, “come for me, baby”, and you do. You come screaming, the tension snapping, vision sparkling with stars, and you are shoved over the edge. You don’t know you’re wailing his name until he comes too, all concern for getting caught seemingly gone as he begs you to continue as he fills you up with his pearly, gooey cum:

“That’s right, say my name. Say my fucking name, sweetheart.”

His hips thrust weakly, some instinct choking him until he makes sure every drop of him stays in you. You’re going to be dripping for hours.

His skin is fire-hot beneath his starched white shirt. You’ll be thinking about that for days afterward when you see him in the hallways of the office.

This is what scares you the most. When you realize it's over and neither one of you want it to be.

Shaking from exertion, Max slowly sets you down, unwinding your legs from his waist, your ankles trembling against the cold tile. You couldn’t imagine putting your nylons back on, the thought of that pressure against the curve of your lower stomach while you are so full of his cum practically unbearable.

He lifts his head from your neck, eyes intentionally avoiding you as he inspects where he bit you, breath coming in ragged, long gasps. Sweat darkens the hair at his temple and that post-fuck blush is staggeringly gorgeous on him. He pricks his thumb on the sharp edge of his fangs and with a scarlet bead balanced on his thumb, he smears his blood against the puncture wounds, like someone would wipe dirt away from a loved one’s skin.

It doesn’t really hurt, but the effects leave your neck tingling. You’d never say this out loud, but you fucking loved when he did that.

He steps away without looking at you, giving you time to adjust your skirt, your hair in the mirror. You help him straighten his collar because it’s not like he can use the mirror to check himself.

He grins, the flush fading far too rapidly from his cheeks.

“What are you going to tell them?” You nod to the stairs on the other side of the wall. “This can’t look good for us.”

“You got attacked by a werewolf on the way to the bathroom. I saved you.”

“Thought you said werewolves weren’t scary.”

He shakes his head, smirking, then presses a kiss to your temple. “Just said I was the bigger monster between the two of us.”

“My hero.” You turn your head until his lips drink in yours.

It is dangerous, your feelings for him.

He taps you on the butt, pulling away. The lines around his eyes do an excellent job of masking the hurt in the brownness of his eyes.

“Gimme five, then you come up. Can’t have you looking so completely debauched.”

He kisses you again, betraying whatever amounted to “cool and collected” he attempted for, and without another word, he slides out the door.

His smell lingers in the air long after he does. The throbbing of your cunt also serves as a fantastically bitter reminder.

You go back to the mirror because yes, you could not have been more obvious if you were wearing a sign that said, “hi, yes, I did just get my back blown out.” You try to fold your hair around your ears at least a dozen times before pulling it back in what you hope to be a casual pony-tail. You toss your nylons into the trash can, pleading that the “oh, I tore them in the bathroom” excuse might hold an ounce of water.

You think about what’s waiting for you a floor up and your stomach clenches.

Fucking Max could upset the dynamics of your little group, your little Monster Squad. Whatever the stupid office bylines were, your happy-hour social group is one of the bright spots in your life, especially while working at a place run by those bastard Overlords.

And Max knew that. He didn’t want to risk your long-term happiness for his short-term.

Max didn’t scare you because he was a monster.

He scared you precisely because he wasn’t.

You open the bathroom door and return to the world.

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips smut #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal characters

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spadesinred · 1 year

Text

Keep it Quiet - (Dante Sparda x GN Reader, Smut)

Summary: You were (supossedly) having your usual casual talks with Dante upstairs in his office, who would've thought Dante had something in mind completely different to do?

Content warnings: Of course smut, penetrative sex, use of petnames, unprotected sex, use of Y/N, Praise, a little little bit of dirty talk, fluff in the end :). -💕

It was late night, you were having a long and nice chat with Dante for about one hour, you sitting on a small wooden chair, he was walking around and resting over his desk or walls. But, he was seemingly acting weird the last minutes.

''Dante, you there?''. You asked him, looking at the tall man resting on his desk with a puzzled face, this felt like you were talking alone for two minutes straight, you didn't noticed he was actually just staring down at you, in a lost gaze, just blinking and sometimes sharpening his stare.

Some seconds passed, it seemed like you were actually talking to yourself, you sighed and crossed your arms, he wasn't usually like this, he always had something to say, or some kind of playful and cheeky smirk to give you, this behavior weirded you out.

You decided to stand up from your seat, walking closer to the silver haired devil in front of you, to take a better look on his face, perhaps he was feeling bad? something was troubling him? You were actually concerned for this man.

As you got closer, you could see his face more clearly, you noticed a small shade of red on his cheeks, his attractive features always made you feel a little fuzzy in your mind, you brushed your thoughts away, before leaning closer to look into his eyes.

''This isn't something normal from you, Dante''. As Dante heard your voice from a closer distance, he inmediately snapped back to reality.

''Ah, there you ar-'' He inmediatey placed his rough hands on your waist, pulling you close against his chest, the sudden movement slightly made you yelp in surprise.

''..Sweetheart...'' Those were the only words he spoke to you before burying his face on the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply, his hot breath against your skin made you shiver in place, your neck moving automatically to give him easier access, he smirked and pressed a small kiss on your skin.

''ah...What's wrong..? You're acting...s-strange..'' You managed to mutter, as the devil was nuzzling on your neck and jaw, keeping a hold of you, you were pressed in between Dante and the rusty and old walls of his office.

''(Y/N)..you feel so soft...just...can i...?'' He leaned closer to you, staring into your eyes, his eyes had a strange hint of desire, neediness, not that you were complaining, his hands wandered on your hips, gently rubbing your sides, yet keeping a firm grip on your body.

You looked at his lips, before nodding slowly, to which he roughly pressed his lips against yours, in a sloppy make out session, his whole body could be felt against you, Dante bit gently at your lower lip, this earned a small gasp, parting your lips, this allowed further access to your mouth, this didn't seemed like a makeout session anymore, he was straight up eating your mouth, hands on your ass, groping tightly.

''That's right...you can't just walk around me like that without getting what you deserve..'' Dante growled against your mouth, his breath on your face made you lose your thoughts, holding onto his jacket with both hands.

''D-Dante...'' He chuckled at your mumble, sounding ever so low.

''Yeah? Baby? C'mon, speak up, can't hear you, darlin'.." He teased you, nibbling on your lip.

''T-the door, Dante-" You sighed at his sudden blow on your neck. "Trish, Nero, they're downstairs..." Dante chuckled in a husky low tone, he wrapped his arms around your waist again, picking you up, you inmediately tangled your legs on his hips to not fall down, this didn't stopped him from returning to tasting your mouth, drawing gasps and softs whines from you.

''No need to worry about that, baby..'' Dante said, panting in between his kisses.

He hastily carried you to the office's door, pushing the door to close it with a push of his hips, not breaking the kiss for a second, you were now gasping for air and panting, the hot feeling inside your guts was pushing you to continue the kiss, grasping and tugging his hair, he growled everytime you pulled a little rougher, biting your lips, pressing you against the door.

As you two heard the loud bang from the door closing, you jumped slightly in his arms, afraid that either Trish or Nero would come upstairs to see what happened, though, probably, they would already have in mind what was going on. Of course, Dante and Y/N, alone upstairs, better not interrupting the two of you.

''Every time we are alone up here...i need to fight the urge to bend you over my desk and straight up ruin you, baby-'' He whispered in your left ear, one hand holding your chin to look up at him, his other hand keeping you close to him.

Dante was clearly feeling different today, or perhaps you never noticed? It was true that you and the devil hunter had feelings for each other, and that you had your lovey-dovey moments here and there, but you didn't expect his feelings to be this deep within his heart...and body...

''-If you want this too, babe, nothing will stop us, not right now'' The feeling of warmth and a burning sensation on your stomach only got much more intense as his words slipped from his lips, his growls grew feral, wild even, this man was clearly infatuated with you.

He gently brushed your lower lip with his thumb, chuckling.

''C'mon sweetheart, cat got your tongue?''. He kept his teasing, giving you one of his smug smirks. You were feeling fuzzy, breathing heavily, erratically, recovering from such a fiery kiss.

''I d-didn't k-know you were feeling like this...'' You said, he presed his hips against your crotch, you could felt his half hardened cock through his pants, this only made you feel more fuzzy, head spinning, the scent and taste of this man was intoxicating you so deliciously.

''..now...darling...'' He was now kissing your forehead gently, walking to his desk, with you still on his arms, soft pants and gasps slipping from your lips.

He gently sat you on the desk, spreading your legs to place himself between you, he began to pull your shirt off, his hands roaming on your skin, grasping your chest and massaging it, you closed your eyes, pressing your forehead on the crook of his neck, hugging his body, as if you never wanted to let go of him.

''I love the softness of your skin, darling...i want to feel it shivering underneath me...''. In a matter of seconds, your upper body was revealed to him, his eyes piercing your body, taking every inch of you in his eyes, with a look of pure adoration and want on his face.

His words made you sigh again, taking his jacket and sliding it down his shoulders, rather rapidly, you wanted him, he wanted you, he wanted you for so long.

He pressed kisses and licked at your neck, nibbling on your collarbone, grasping your chest gently, you could feel every single touch, every single hitch of his hot and minty breath on your neck.

''There we go, that's a good sweetweart...so pretty for me..'' His praises made you smile at him, yet your lips, along with your eyes and eyebrows twisted into a rather lewd expression, as your lover slowly rubbed in between your thighs, teasing slowly, ever so gently, yet needy.

''h-haaah..D-dante..'' you gasped his name, panting on his shoulder as you wandered your hands down his firm and strong abs, sliding your hands inside his navy blue shirt, you heard his soft grunt as you feeled his abs with your hands, squeezing.

''Oh, someone's feeling handsy...'' Dante chuckled through his teeth, which were nibbling on your collarbone, sucking your skin and kissing the small bruises.

'' not me, that's for sure...o-oh..'' You spoke in a breathy voice, mewling every time you felt his lips suckling on your sensitive skin, you were definitely going to be covered in hickeys and small red marks all over your neck and collarbone by tomorrow morning.

The office felt much more warm and hot now, it felt moisty, You tangled your legs on Dante's hips to pull him closer, craving his touch and warm body, but he grabbed both your legs and spread them wide open again.

''Uh-uh, baby, keep those wide open for me, yeah...''. His stubble beard tickled your neck, this hands now trailing down to your crotch again, slowly undoing your pants, pulling them off, feeling your underwear for a second, before yanking them away.

The sudden coldness on your crotch drove shivers up your spine, arching your back, he carefully placed one hand on your chest, pushing you ever so carefully to lay on your back on top of the desk, he stopped for a few seconds to linger his gaze on your body.

''Y/N, baby, have i told you you're so beautiful?'' His warm and friendly smile was back, before he took one of your hands and placed it on the bulge of his pants, his cock felt now rock hard, the sensation made you let out a breathy sigh.

''..D-dante..'' You muttered, your eyes locked on his, he caressed your cheek, leaning down to kiss your lips, you could hear him unzipping his pants.

''Look at what you've done....yeah..yeah, you caused this...'' He rocked his hips a bit towards your hand, growling.

Dante pulled his pants down, not breaking eye contact once, he delighted in your flushed expression, your heavy breaths and those little marks on your neck.

As he let loose of his big and girthy member, you gasped as you widened your eyes, he wasn't going to just put it inside right now, right? Your red devil noticed your sudden confusion and slight worry, to which he proceeded to smile lovingly at you, brushing your hair off your face.

''Easy now, we're gonna take it slow, keep it quiet, okay, sweetheart?''. He said in a low and husky voice, leaning down to trail kisses on your neck again, his chest slightly pressed against yours, one hand sliding down your thighs, beggining to caress and tease on your private parts, his other hand moving to intertwine with one of your hands, before pulling your hands up your head, leaving your arms mostly inmovilized.

Dante moved his hands to your thigh, squeezing a bit before returning to your crotch, pressing his thumb gently on your small hole, chuckling when he heard your soft whimpers.

''Need to get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart, don't want you getting all sore later, heh-'' He whispered against your ear, before nibbling on your earlobe gently, his strokes on your inner thighs got slightly more playful, now being a little rough, he inserted one finger in your hole, ever so slowly, he wanted to savor every single expression and shiver, every single moan.

''..O-oohh..d-dante...'' you breathed out, your chest rising up and down rather rapidly, his rough calloused hand kept your wrists pinned to the wooden desk, you couldn't do a thing, other than accepting his strokes and kisses.

Dante slowly pumped his finger in and out of you, paying close attention to your expression, which was slowly twisting into a lust filled gaze as you closed your eyes shut, he let go of your wrists to move his hand to hold your chin and tilt it enough for you to look at his face completely.

''Eyes on me, Y/N...that's right, darling, watch me fuck this pretty body of yours with my fingers..'' He inserted another finger, his pace with his fingers got a little faster, teasing in circles for a few seconds before returning to pump inside you.

More whines and breathy moans escaped your lips, now with both your hands free to move around, you placed them on his pulsing and veiny cock, caressing slowly the tip, earning a grunt and a warning look from Dante.

''Don't play with fire, darlin'' His voice sounded now more low and deeper, almost wildly, but he didn't push your hands away, bucking his hips to your hands.

Feeling bold, you didn't pulled your hands away, you took his cock in one hand, sliding it up and down slowly, your other hand massaging the tip. As he kept grunting, his pumping became faster and more aggresive for some seconds, but you didn't stop teasing his cock even when moaning and gasping underneath him.

''...I want you, Dante..'' You sighed against his face, the hot feeling in your gut was too much to bare now, you needed him. You needed more of him.

''That's it, i'll give it to you, baby..'' He said, now shifting his position, leaning on top of you, getting on eye level and grabbing your legs, pushing them up to your chest, leaving your crotch exposed.

With one hand, he took your hands and placed them on his chest, kissing your lips hungrily, tongues intertwining. The ache between your legs getting stronger.

He grabbed his cock, moving it closer to your entrance, softly and slowly teasing it, playing close attention to your expression.

The precum on his cock helped your entrance to get more soaked in case you weren't ready enough to take him.

He began to push slowly, stretching you out, shaky breaths and whines escaped your lips again, clinging onto Dante with your arms around his neck, puling him closer to you.

''.s-so..t-tight..baby, oh..-'' Dante breathed out in a husky voice, moving his hips gently at first, brushing his lips on yours through your moans and whimpers.

Once he was fully inside you, he stopped to look at your face, sweating, your neck, full with bite marks and hickeys, you looked so beautiful under him.

''...good, so good for me...'' He started rocking his hips slowly back and forth, still waiting you to adjust to his size, you felt every inch of your insides being slowly caressed by his hot member.

Your mind got even more fuzzy, the only thought in your mind being Dante.

''...D-dante..!'' You hissed through your teeth, eyes closed shut as your lover increased his pace after hearing your moans, hips hitting against your ass.

His grunting got a little louder, hiding his face on the crook of your neck, moving his arm to pull your legs up and rest them on his shoulder, having more access to your body now.

His thrusts only got stronger and faster, your whines now being louder and high pitched, he covered your mouth with his hand, moaning lowly.

''..hah..my sweetheart can't hold back their moans..'' He chuckled as he saw you open your eyes and furrow your eyebrows at him.

He cupped your chin with his hand, you felt his thumb on your lips, you sucked in his digit and bit it to supress your noises.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, grunting and moaning deeply sometimes, the wetness and sweat on your thighs made a loud smacking sound every time his hips hit against your ass.

You both had failed at being quiet, yet, you didn't stopped your indecent actions, his thrusts got more feral, his body rocking against yours faster and deeper.

If Trish and Nero were suspecting about you two doing such activities, they definitely wouldn't have any doubts by now, as your moans and sighs rumbled on the room along with Dante's grunts and growls.

''..M-more..!'' You whimpered, you had given into your lust and desires for your lover, the pleasure being too much to think coherently now.

It didn't took too long for Dante to grab your legs and wrap them on his waist, picking you up by your hips, carrying you as he moved your whole body up and down on him, his hips hitting against you harder and faster.

If you were to look down to his lower torso, you would only see a blur.

His shaky breaths were tingling your ear, he was ramming his whole cock into you, kissing your walls, you hugged his chest, breathing against his sweaty neck.

''..S-sweetheart..g-good..'' Dante spoke to you in a low voice, moving one hand to your back and caressing it.

You raised your head to his, he lowered his gaze to kiss your lips, passionately, nibbling on your lower lip.

As the seconds passed, the pleasure and lusty feelings were too much to bare, you felt a tingling and strange sensation on your lower half, along with his cock twitching, you both knew what it meant.

''..I'm gonna...!'' You hissed, Dante fastened his movements, moving one hand to cup your cheek and look into your eyes.

''...Cum on my cock, sweetheart...'' He kissed your cheek gently, you nodded and hid your face on his neck again.

As your orgasm hit you like a giant wave of ecstasy and arousal, you moaned out particularly louder than before, he kept fucking you through your orgasm, grunting.

It didn't took him long to finish off, panting and holding onto you as if you were going to dissapear anytime.

You looked at each other as the heat of the moment cooled down, speaking to each other through your gazes.

He carefully sat you down on the chair you were sitting before, tucking his pants up, and reaching closer to a tissue box he had.

''Let me take care of you...'' Dante cleaned your sweat and juices off your body, with one hand caressing your cheek.

You were of course tired, laying lazily on the chair, you looked as your lover walked around the room, picking some clothes and reaching a glass of water to you.

He helped you get dressed, before picking you up and sitting on the chair, you on his lap now, he kissed your head as you sat there, enjoying each others embrace, Trish and Nero would have to wait for tomorrow for any apologize.

#dante x reader #dante devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #dante sparda x reader

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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 10 months

Text

Uncontrolled Instincts: Vergil x Male Reader

MINORS DNI; THIS IS FOR ADULTS ONLY

SERIOUSLY, GO AWAY!

SUMMARY: The eldest son of Sparda has been through many trials and tribulations within his almost fifty years of life. Despite this, Vergil was still learning about the different ways his heritage could bring him to his wit's end-- how it could bring him to his knees and leave him completely and utterly at your mercy.

BEGINNING NOTES: Requested by @kasianthus on Tumblr! (Sorry this took so long--didn't know if should still stage because of that so sorry if you aren't really into DMC anymore in the like year this took lmao sorry) This legit has been sitting half-finished for months (Like this was requested way back on March 5th lmfao); so I figured I should probably finish it lmfao 🦢💧🦢 Top/Dom Vergil x Sub/Bottom Male reader Pre-established relationship Semi-mindless smut with a lil' fluff Lots of smut--like a ton. Rut (Vergil); the reader is unaware of this being a thing in devils Minor scent kink Small masturbation scene (Vergil) Mating/Breeding kink (Possessive of the reader) Biting/Blood (Bleeding?) kink: Vergil bites hard enough to draw blood (he is a devil after all) then does some kind of painful stuff--it’s not very long or anything but I figured it is important to mention. Bruising + Scratching Minor Oral (blowjob; Reader receiving.) Monster fucker stuff; dick sleeve/slit stuff, etc. Devil Trigger sex Overstimulation Knotting 💧🦢💧 >Unrealistic sizes for his Triggered dick(s)--just let me have fun. If you want actual sizes, go to Vergil’s H/C chapter. >Because of the mental state Vergil’s in, he’s a bit sappy--almost reminiscent of V--during some parts. >I used the concept art from DMC 5 as a reference for Vergil’s (regular) Devil Trigger; figured I should put that here to avoid any confusion (since it’s very different from his 3-design and semi-different than his 4-design). Dante’s 5 DT has pupils so Vergil’s does too (even though the concept art doesn’t; neither does Dante’s concept art btw).

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“That is an idiotic suggestion,” Vergil’s lip twitched as he lightly snarled, “Although I shouldn’t expect much else from you.”

“Yeah? Well, if you’re so damned smart,” Dante crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, scowling at Vergil, “Then what’s your plan.”

“I told you,” the blue devil squinted, “I can handle it alone.”

Dante slammed his hands down on his desk and shot up from his chair, “And as I have told you ,” he rounded to the front of his desk, leaning against it slightly, and stood face-to-face with his older brother, “ No, you can’t. ”

The devils stared at one another, growling while exchanging death glares. Amongst the loud snarling, however, a stressed-out sigh could be heard. Lady, who had grabbed a beer, was trying to ignore the twins' incessant bickering. She's been waiting for over an hour for Nico and Trish to swing by and pick her up and she was almost at her breaking point. Quietly, she tapped her fingers against the half-drunk bottle while grumbling to herself. A part of her felt like she was babysitting two toddlers rather than sitting at the establishment of two middle-aged devil hunters. As she raised the bottle to take a drink, a loud commotion behind her caught her attention. Slamming down the bottle, she whipped around with a venomous glare.

With hands wrapped around one another, the twins wrestled momentarily only to be cut abruptly by Vergil slamming Dante’s back through the railing and treads of the staircase. A loud strangled coughing came from Dante as one of the metal bars speared him through the chest, splattering Vergil’s face with a trace amount of blood.

“What is wrong with you two?!" Lady’s tolerance had finally run out, "I just fucking fixed yesterday's damage!” She stood from her seat, arms crossed.

Hearing her irate tone, Vergil released Dante’s neck from his grasp and stood up; not saying a word.

Dante groaned, looking up at his twin, “Lil’ help?” He stuck out his hand which Vergil used to yank Dante back to his feet.

Vergil straightened his coat, “I think I will take my leave for today-”

“Good,” Dante shifted uncomfortably, placing a hand over the gaping hole in his middle, feeling it slowly repair itself, “Can’t stand you being so pissy.”

Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, “You are no better, Dante. Both of you are acting like children.”

“I am not,” Dante huffed.

Vergil glared at his brother from the corner of his eye before strutting towards the garage door, “I am leaving,” he stopped after he was slightly past Lady and turned over to his shoulder, addressing her, "Contact me only if necessary.”

With that, Vergil left The Devil May Cry.

Upon opening the front door to your shared home, Vergil instantly felt a heavy hazy heat spread throughout his limbs. He took a slow deep breath as he stood in the entryway, trying to get a hold of himself. Unhurriedly, he hung his coat and slid off his boots, mumbling to himself about his next move. He decided that a shower may ease his mind as he wandered into the cozy co-inhabited home.

The blue devil warily looked around, trying to avoid you. Eventually, he found you in the bedroom, making things difficult, since he needed to stop in there for clothing. He peered in through the door and saw that you were lying on your stomach, reading a book while softly humming. From where he was standing, he got a perfect view of your ass, only worsening his issue .

Vergil shook his head and took a deep breath trying to deter his thoughts; only after which did he realize that getting a deep whiff of your scent was perhaps the worst thing he could do at the moment. He stood with a scrunched face and closed eyes as he tried to ground himself, doing his best to ignore the overwhelming perverse thoughts eating at him, and the fiery feeling spreading to his lower half.

You turned over and sat at the edge of the bed, dangling your legs over the edge, “Hey-! You’re home early,” you flashed him a cheerful smile that quickly fell as you got nothing but silence in return, “Everything alright, Vergil?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” Vergil’s eyes avoided yours and his answer was quick and emotionless.

You raised a brow at his seemingly discombobulated reaction, “You sure?”

He nodded and moved to grab some casual clothing from the dresser, “I am going to shower.”

Your brow raised further, “Okay..?”

Vergil looked over to you as if he were going to speak but closed his mouth, turned away from you, and left.

In the brief moments that your eyes met with his, you noticed the small bits of dried blood on his clothes and face. It was probably Dante’s, knowing how much the two had been fighting the past week or so; however, that didn’t make it any better nor did it ease your mind. You slid off the bed, and placed the book on the nightstand, leaving the room. Unhurriedly, you meandered down the hall as you mulled through what could have upset Vergil so much.

As of late, he's been in such a sour mood that he barely even says "Good morning" or "Good night", not to mention the lack of physical affection. He hasn't even been sleeping in the bedroom with you, "preferring” to sleep on the couch. A frown decorated your face as a wicked thought echoed in your mind, "What if he is distancing himself so he can disappear…"

You shook your head, "He'd never do that, he loves me... Right?"

With another shake of your head, you decided that you were going to talk with him once he's finished his shower.

When Vergil entered the restroom, he lazily tossed his change of clothes off to the side and turned the shower faucet as cold as he could. While the water ran, he stripped down and neatly placed his worn clothing in the hamper.

Just being in your presence had made him unbearably hard and was driving him up the wall. It seems even the Dark Slayer isn’t able to conquer his instincts, much to his vexation.

A quiet hiss left his lips as he stepped under the icy water. Vergil’s skin was beyond sweltering, being so hot that it was bothering him; a man whose body runs on average at around 120°F (49°C). The contrast between him and the nearly frozen water created a sauna-esc environment--fog quickly filling the room. As he washed his face off, he stared mindlessly at the wall. He’d never experienced something like this before; and, to be quite frank, it's exhausting. The sheer amount of emotional ups and downs was enough to make him nauseous. Not to mention that he’d been avoiding any sort of affection towards or with you for nearly a week.

It all mixed up into a hellish disaster that Vergil just wanted to end. Tired of the immense toll this was taking on him, in every way possible.

With folded arms, he stood facing the water as a small discontent grumble left his lips. He had hoped that the cold water would have killed his hard-on; however, it didn’t. Now he was just miserably standing under frigid water with a rigid cock.

Vergil let out a low growl of irritation, his face scrunching into a grimace as he lightly pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite not being one for masturbation, he decided to try and handle his urges alone. He ran his hands up his face and then slowly back down, sighing loudly. Then he turned around and leaned his forehead against the wall, the water now beating against his back; a feeling that would have most definitely troubled him if he weren’t so worked up.

His brow furrowed as he shut his eyes, placing one hand on the wall and the other around his throbbing dick. Slowly, his hand moved at the thought of what he’d do to you if only you were here harshly pinned between the wall and him.

The feeling of you squirming underneath him as he bit down on your neck. Your groans as he shoves himself inside your tight hole. The feeling of your hands in his hair, pulling it in ecstasy. How deep and hard he would pound your insides. Growling obscene and perverse comments into your ear and watching you react; feeling you react. Folding you as he bent your legs up as far as he could, his nails digging into your skin.

Vergil wanted nothing more than to claim you --to breed you --to leave you unable to move and full to the brim with his cum.

The blue devil’s face scrunched further with every quickening stroke, trying to reach his peak, “Ngh- ha~” A frustrated whine of a huff escaped his nose as he bit down on his lip.

Unknowingly, he started bucking his hips into his hand in pursuit of the tantalizingly close orgasm. However, try as he may, it never came; all he managed to do was work himself up even further and nearly break his fingers from how hard he was pressing against the tiles.

After what seemed like an eternity, he removed his hand from his cock and just stood there with his eyes closed. He placed his face against his bicep with a deep exasperated inhale, trying to figure out a solution that wouldn’t involve him explaining what was happening.

A soft knock at the door caused Vergil to choke on his exhale, “Vergil, you alright? You’ve been in there for over an hour…”

Although you didn’t care how long he took, it was a bit concerning when his longest shower ever was fifteen minutes . In combination with how he was earlier, you were well within your right to worry.

He felt his cock twitch at the sound of your voice as he ran his thumb across his tip, doing his best to subvert the idea of asking you to join him, “I am fine,” he straightened his posture with a small sigh, “I will be out momentarily.”

The blue devil waited to hear you walk away before he turned off the water and stepped out. He dried off and slid on his black boxer briefs and an indigo t-shirt. Then, as per usual, he went to pomade his hair but found his tin completely exhausted. Vergil balled up his hands, his nails lightly puncturing his palms in anger. In his heated departure from the shop, he had completely forgotten to pick some up before returning home. In a vain attempt at normalcy, he used the dampness from the shower to slick it back.

Then the real issue became apparent. He needed to figure out how to hide his excitement . The blue devil mulled over different ideas as he moved his jaw back and forth. It was then that he noticed he, unintentionally, grabbed a baggy set of grey sweatpants; ones that would be able to hide most of his painfully aching flesh if he wore them just right and tucked himself in a very specific way.

After a few attempts, he managed to get it right and looked at himself in the mirror; it was barely noticeable, allowing him to take a sigh of relief. As he opened the door, he was able to place where you were in the house by the sound of your heart, you were in the living room. Knowing that if he saw you he’d lose the struggle with himself, he quickly slipped into his study; which was right between the bathroom and bedroom.

The Dark Slayer quietly shut the door and turned on a desk lamp. The room wasn’t anything too elaborate or fancy; it only contained three bookshelves, a small desk, and Vergil’s favorite chair. The blue devil grabbed his current book from the desk and sat down, making the plastic ever-so-slightly creak underneath him. With the lick of his fingertips, Vergil paged through to where he had left off in the novel.

After nearly ten minutes of re-reading the same page over and over, Vergil slammed the book shut with a growl. At this point, his body was beyond burning with lust and he wanted nothing more than to soothe his pulsating cock. Moving his jaw in thought, he debated trying to relieve his itch again; however, before he could decide, a gentle knock came from the door.

“Vergil..?” your voice was barely audible.

In a panic, Vergil snapped back, “What?” He scrunched his face and pursed his lips in immediate regret at how he answered.

There was a moment of silence before he heard you sigh, “Never mind, sorry; didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave you be.”

As you began to walk away, Vergil bolted up from his seat; upsetting you was the last thing he wanted to do. Opening the door as quickly as possible, he called out to you, “Wait-!”

You turned around; only a dozen or so strides away. With a brow raised in curiosity, you noted how disheveled Vergil looked: between his outfit, hair, and how overall ragged he looked you knew something was wrong. The two of you stood staring at one another for a minute or so; neither of you being sure what to say or do next.

The blue devil turned from your gaze to look down, shifting awkwardly, “I…” he stood with his lips slightly parted and shifted once more.

You took a few steps towards him, “Is something wrong, Vergil?”

He shook his head ‘no’ and tensed his shoulders, “Stay back,” although he intended it to sound commanding, it sounded more like he was pleading.

Your brow creased, “Why?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

The intense aching in his body only worsened by being near you, he scrunched his face trying to block out his insatiable yearning for you, “I can’t-” Vergil looked up from the flooring to you as he spoke softly, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What does that-” you shook your head, “Vergil, what is going on?” You continued to steadily and carefully approach the high-strung man.

With every step you took, his body tensed up further and further. Part of him wanted to run as far from you as possible, ashamed and afraid of his need; the other wanted nothing more than to slam you against the floor and let into his sinful primal desires. He closed his eyes and took a deep steading breath; doing neither of those things--unintentionally allowing you to get closer.

You stood only two or so strides away and were able to hear a faint growling, “My Love?” When you went to grab his hand, his eyes snapped open.

Vergil jolted backward and hit the still-open study door that was behind him… which broke it right off its hinges with a loud cracking thud. You flinched at the sudden loud noise and pulled your hand back.

He turned to his side slightly to look down at the broken door, “Fantastic…” he then turned back to you with a sigh, “Forgive me, I-”

That’s when he noticed where you were staring at his body.

You squinted and pursed your lips, doing your best to stifle a small laugh, “Is your weird mood cause of that ?” You gestured with your eyes down to his painfully obvious hard-on.

Vergil shifted his jaw and huffed out a meek answer, “It is more than that, I am afraid.”

“Care to share?” you set a hand on your hip and smirked, very much oblivious to the severity of what was going on.

The blue devil shook his head, “No-” A shiver ran up his spine as he watched you slowly and intensely eye him up, “You’re not going to like the answer.”

“Vergil, we’ve slept together quite a bit,” you gently grabbed one of his hands, “What is so different now?”

His voice was strained as he gripped your hand tightly and paused a moment for a moment before continuing, “This is out of my control.”

“What? Vergil,” you furrowed your brow in confusion, “What does that mean?”

He opened his eyes and stared at you momentarily, using his tongue to play with his teeth in thought.

“Don’t make me beg,” you lightly teased.

“Fine,” Vergil pushed you against the wall, a knee placed right between your legs, and holding both your hands off to your sides, “I want you,” he leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear, “I need to--” he paused for a moment in thought, “I need to breed you,” behind his voice you could hear a rumble, telling you how desperate he really is.

He placed small kisses along your jawline and pulled back to look you in the eyes, pleading with you to save him from this torment of self-restraint he has been going through for nearly a week now.

You raised a brow, “And how’s that any different than normal?” You gave him a suggestive sultry smirk.

He cautiously placed his lips atop yours; despite his current affliction, he wanted to make sure that he took things slow--at least, slow enough that he wouldn’t hurt you. The kisses were long, heated, and sloppy. The both of you moved your mouths together in an almost exaggerated manner, perfectly synchronized. Vergil pushed against you and a low rumble filled each of his motions; doing his best to show you how much he needs you. How much he desires you in your entirety; mind, spirit, and body. How much he wishes to consume your frail humanity and turn you into his sinful plaything.

The blue devil’s grip tightened around your wrists as he fought his urge to demolish you right here and now. The heat from his body was overwhelming. Both he and you were acutely aware of it, a very thin line of sweat adorning the two of you. Vergil pushed his leg up further between your legs, lovingly nudging your slowly growing arousal, listening to the faint groans you gave.

After a few minutes of these slow impassioned kisses, he slid his tongue into your mouth. Excitedly he explored every bit that he could. Though Vergil had tasted your sweet tongue many times before, he always had the same amount of giddiness as he did the first time. His growling had become prominent enough that you could feel it within your mouth; a new, but welcomed, feeling.

With a gentle roughness, Vergil bit at your lips and tugged on them, which you lovingly returned. A small smirk decorated his lips as he let out a happy huff against you before diving into another plethora of fiery lustful kisses. With each languid motion of his plush lips against yours, his grip tightened around your wrists; gradually losing the arousing factor and becoming painful--you weren’t even sure if he realized that he was doing it.

Breaking away from his lips for a brief moment, you let out a low hiss, “Vergil, that kind of hurts,” you squirmed against his hold.

He stood there with his forehead against yours, loosening his grip slightly. With a low husky growl of a voice, he whispered against your kiss-swollen lips, “I need more,” he nuzzled his nose against yours, “Please.” His eyes met with yours, they were heavy and glazed over; he wasn’t asking you, he was begging .

“Just--” You did your best to stay calm, knowing that Vergil was far from it, “Give me a minute to get ready and I’m all yours..?”

A small displeased grumble left his lips before he bit at your lower lip, pulling it slowly, then whispered against you, “You’d best hurry,” he released his grip on your wrists, “Best not to keep me waiting,” he turned and walked towards the bedroom, leaving you in a confused light-headed daze.

Once within the bedroom, he grabbed the nearly empty lube from the side table and set it on the tabletop. Absent-mindedly, he began to tap his foot, doing his best to ignore his slowly thinning patience. Vergil was still rather uneasy about informing you about what was truly going on. The two of you had been romantically involved for many years now, but it was only within the past year that the two of you had become sexually involved. In hindsight, Vergil regrets not explaining the consequences of doing so.

The consequences of mating with a devil.

A nearly inaudible creak in the floorboards caught Vergil’s attention, pulling him from his thoughts. Instantly, the blue devil was upon you and was as close to you as possible, his lips connected with yours once again. With a startled moan, you grabbed his biceps and felt him dig his fingertips into your sides as he tried to pull you impossibly close.

Not giving you a chance to think, Vergil moved you over to the bed and had you pinned beneath him. Using one of his hands, he held both of yours above your head as he stared down at you. He placed his free hand on your cheek, thumbing over your skin slowly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

The blue devil’s hand drifted down your neck and to your chest, “I am sorry for this.”

“For what?” You tilted your head.

Without answering, Vergil leaned down and bit down on your neck. A sharp pain caused you to flinch and let out a low groan. He’d pierced through your skin and was working his teeth further into your flesh. It was uncommon for Vergil to make marks where others would be able to see them, but he never has drawn blood or bitten you this hard before. An uneasy feeling pricked at the edges of your mind--the unnerving feeling of being a devil’s prey.

Once Vergil felt the mark was dark enough, he leaned back up as he licked his lips and teeth clean of your blood. Your eyes met with his and Vergil had a crazed stare that sent cold shivers down your spine, it was a feral dominant look that only worsened the growing bad feeling in your gut. He moved to the other side of your neck and gave it the same treatment; puncturing your flesh deeply.

You let out a sharp moan as you felt him remove his teeth and give the new mark small loving licks. Curious as to how’d you respond, he took one of the tips of his split tongue and pushed it into one of the teeth holes. With pursed lips, your brow scrunched and you pulled away from the feeling; however, Vergil wasn’t done. He quickly placed another bite atop the same spot, moving ever-so-slightly out of line with the already there divots. The blue devil was enjoying the iron taste of the thick red substance and he wanted to taste you more; perhaps a side effect of him being the only Sparda descendant to consume human blood in mass?

With a third bite to the same spot, you finally spat out a whimper; one that wasn’t of pleasure. However, the devil didn’t notice and clenched his jaw harder at your struggling.

“Vergil, stop-!” You jerked away from him with a voice that was somewhere between angry and frightened--not a hint of enjoyment in earshot.

It took him a moment to react, removing his teeth with a low faintly animalistic huff. The blue devil leaned up and looked down at you, watching you writhe at the painful feeling, assessing the situation. A prominent red stain had adorned his lips, teeth, and surrounding skin; he looked as if he were truly attempting to eat you. A few tears pricked at the edges of your eyes which caused him to look away, almost shameful.

“Vergil?”

He released your hands and sat still, looking like a kicked puppy.

You leaned up and gently placed a hand on the side of his jaw, turning him to face you. Vergil’s eyes were glazed over and his lips slightly parted, still very obviously aroused but hesitant to continue. You ran a thumb along his lower lip, wiping blood off the stained surface. Slowly, you connected with his lips.

With a loving force, you pushed your lips hard against him and moved your hand from his jaw to the side of his neck, firmly holding him. Using your other hand, you grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him into you. All the while, you’d pushed your tongue into his mouth which earned a surprised muffled moan from Vergil.

His mouth tasted, unsurprisingly, of blood and was broiling hot. Vergil worked himself into your grove, moving along to the rhythm you were setting; a rarity in your relationship. You moved your hand up from his neck and interweaved your fingers with his hair, grasping the strands tightly. A small amount of pride pricked at the edges of your mind as you heard him let out a low unfiltered moan and felt him tremble under your grasp. This, however, didn’t last long.

Unwilling to remain submissive, Vergil pushed you downwards again. Mindlessly his kisses began to wander around your skin placing small kisses along your clothed shoulders and chest. In return, you gently groped at his shoulders and arms, earning a low moan from your devilish lover.

You noticed that he was still wet from his shower as you ran your hands under his shirt giving his skin a soft smooth feel. Your fingertips flattened against his pecs, kneading against him. Slowly, you made your way over to his nipples and pinched them tightly. His back arched slightly at the feeling and he let out a low breathy moan.

However, the blue devil’s hands weren’t stationary and had begun to move, drifting downwards. They rested right at the edge of your shirt for a moment as he felt you grope his chest. Then, bit by bit, he slid his hands underneath your shirt. Taking the hint, you removed your hands from him and pulled the fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room.

The blue devil’s slender fingers groped along your chest, seeming almost desperate to feel your body. Your hands grabbed the edge of his shirt and began to tug at it. Vergil leaned up and pulled his shirt over his head, looking down at you with slightly labored breathing.

In all his years of life, in neither Hell nor the human world, has he ever had he found another so captivating as you are. Even during times like these, times of sinful lust, you still managed to look holy to the tarnished devil; a sacred being that he’d gladly become a martyr over, someone he’d give his life up for. Despite his irritation at his current affliction, he can’t help but be glad that it is with you and that he found someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

As he stared, you stared back.

A small amount of pride tugged at your heart at how you’d managed to get someone like Vergil, someone so beautiful. Your eyes focused on his partially agape kiss-swollen lips that he’d roll his tongue over moistening them every so often. His hair was down courtesy of the lack of pomade and clung to the still-wet skin of his brow, giving him a rather ragged look. Despite Dante being his twin, the two looked nothing alike in your eyes--even with the same hairstyle. Slowly your gaze traveled to his half-lidded eyes when you noticed something; his eyes were the icy glowing blue of his Devil Trigger.

You wriggled to sit upright, “You’re quite worked up, huh?” With a smile, you watched Vergil’s face become red and you placed a hand on the side of his neck, thumbing over his throat softly.

“Why do you say that?” his voice quivered a bit as he felt your hand slowly move down from his neckline to his hips.

“You’re acting… strange ,” you ran your hand close to his bulge, purposely missing it, and rested your hand on his thigh.

He gave you a half-confused half-disappointed look.

“Not that I don’t find this…” you gently rubbed his thigh, earning a stifled moan from the devil, “ aggressively dominant side of you alluring.”

“Do you?” he smirked slightly, “How strange…” Vergil leaned in and gave you small pecking kisses.

You smiled widely and spoke between kisses, “Care to share what the special occasion is?”

Vergil quietly chuckled and murmured against your lips, “In time.”

Between loud sweet pecks, you gently whispered, “Come on, please Vergil?”

Instead of answering, he gave you a long kiss; one that only broke once he felt you pushing away for air. Vergil’s fingers gently ghosted the three-times-bitten dark spot he’d left on your neck, staring with concern.

Noticing his upset attitude, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

“Does it… hurt ?” His voice was soft, with a small tinge of sadness.

“You want me to be honest?”

He nodded.

�� “Yes, it hurts, but-!” You made sure to cut him off, knowing damn well what he was going to say, “It’s fine and it’ll heal,” you ran soft kisses up from the hand you’d been kissing and to his shoulder, resting there for a moment, “It’s alright.”

“I am sorry for harming you,” he looked to the side, his eyes meeting with yours, “I didn’t think that I…” His voice cracked as gazed upon you with remorse.

You leaned up from his skin and looked at him with a soft smile, “Don’t worry about it, Vergil…” With a soft sigh, you leaned forward and placed a soft gentle long kiss on the underside of his jaw, “It’s flattering to know that you want me that badly, dear.”

Vergil pushed you back downwards, straddling your hips. His fingertips pressed into you as he eyed you up and down and, with a low dark desperate tone, he remarked, “That doesn’t even scratch the surface of how I feel right now.”

As he began to run his digits down your body, he leaned down and placed a very soft kiss on the tender spot. Bit by bit Vergil began to kiss down your middle, mumbling very softly against you, “ “The Fountains mingle with the river/And the rivers with the ocean,/The winds of heaven mix for ever,/With a sweet emotion;/Nothing in the world is single,/”,” he stopped right above your navel and lightly bit at the skin, staring up at you and locking with your eyes, “All things by a law devine/In one another's being mingle -/Why not I with thine?”.”

He continued until his head was between your thighs. You propped yourself up on your elbows and saw that he was already staring back at you. With hot and heavy breaths, he kissed the inside of one of your thighs all the way to your dick, then gave the other thigh the same treatment.

“Vergil-” You swallowed apprehensively, “Are you sure that you’re alright to be doing--”

“I won’t harm you,” he gave you a small smile with half-lidded eyes, “I promise,” his breath was heavy as he brushed his cheek and nose along your bulge, speaking in a quiet needy manner, “Let me taste you, please.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to keep up with the sudden mood change; Vergil going from overly dominant to an almost submissive pleading. Before you even answered him, his fingers were within your waistband and were pulling at the fabric, completely exposing you to him. A small moan left your lips as you felt him kiss along the insides of your thighs once more. They were slow sloppy kisses, licking and biting at the sensitive skin.

Vergil stared at you for a moment, a smirk of pride tugging at his lips from how you were watching him with bated breath. Very unhurriedly, he ran his tongue down from your tip to your balls. As he ran back up, he split his tongue apart and slid your cock between the two sides. Encouraged by your low groans, he did the same motion back down.

Carefully he took your sack into his mouth and began to lightly suck on it. Instinctively, you placed a hand in his hair and grabbed it harshly, making the blue devil moan lowly. As he released you from his mouth, he made sure to stick his tongue out and run it up your seam.

Your fingers tightened as you let out a groan and a quiet call of his name.

Returning to your shaft, he placed kisses along the underside of your dick upward. Once at the top, he licked at your slit and watched as you squirm at his motions. With a heavy breath, Vergil placed his lips around your cock and gradually took you into his mouth. His hands found purchase on your hips and he pulled you as close to him as possible, the tip of his nose touching your lower abdomen. You fully leaned up, to get a better view of him, and placed both your hands in his hair as he bobbed up and down at a moderate pace.

“Vergil~ fuck that feels good,” you groaned as he began to move faster at your words.

He smirked in response. Although he’d never admit it, he enjoys hearing you say he’s doing good; that he’s the reason you feel good. However, unlike normal, he wasn’t planning on bringing you to your peak; instead, he removed himself from your dick and stood up. The two of you shared a long heated kiss that he used to lean you back down, then he pulled back.

“Turn over,” his voice was low and gravely, palming himself at the sight before him.

With a small nod and smirk, you did as you were asked. You could hear Vergil shuffling around before feeling him rejoin you on the bed with his hands kneading against your ass. Although his motions weren’t particularly aggressive, the pressure he was using was extreme and was going to undoubtedly leave bruises. If you listened very closely, you could hear him purring behind his growling.

You let out a small laugh, “You’re quite pent up, huh?”

He momentarily paused, his hands still gripping you, “You could say that, yes,” before you could respond, you felt him dig his fingers harder into you, “May I?”

With a smile, you turned over your shoulder to him, “How cordial,” you softly laughed, “Go ahead, I’m all yours Vergil.”

Once he let go of your butt, Vergil smirked slightly at the sight of you lifting your hips up a bit. He was almost tempted to skip prepping you but he bit his lip; he can’t have you getting hurt, he needs you to be available for him. After lubing up his fingers, he slowly slid the first digit inside.

Taking a deep breath, you did your best to relax into his hand. Vergil shifted so he could kiss you while continuing to stretch you. He placed several gentle pecks along your neck and your jaw, a rather loud purr coming from deep within his chest.

As he slid a second finger inside you, he heavily laid his head on the crook of your shoulder and began to give the area small heated kisses. You let out a small moan and turned towards him, kissing the top of his head. A smile tugged at your lips as you felt him let out a low happy sigh, his lips just barely hovering over your skin.

Another stifled moan came from you as he began to curl his fingers and return to kissing your neck, slightly nipping at it as he traveled along your neck and shoulder.

Quietly, as if afraid to speak, Vergil whispered between kisses, “I love you, my delicate little Lily.”

With a soft laugh, you looked at him, “That’s new-- “Lily”..?”

He chuckled, seemingly embarrassed, “Yes, I thought it appropriate. Do- do you not like it?”

“I don’t mind; just curious as to- ngh-” You groaned as you felt Vergil add a third finger.

“As to what, my love?” A cocky smug smirk tugged at his lips.

“Why did you th-think,” you closed your eyes and bit your lip, doing your best to hold back a moan, “to use it now?”

Vergil hummed in thought for a moment, making sure to keep his lips close enough to your skin that you could feel his lips vibrate--sending a shiver through you, “Because you remind me of such…” He removed his fingers and leaned up, “You are so very fragile-- so very breakable; and yet,” a chill ran up your spine as you felt Vergil run his nails from your shoulder blades down to your hips, leaving a minor scratched trail down your body, “you allow me to taint your beauty --to toy with your naive innocent humanity….”

His hands rested on your ass momentarily, letting out a low sigh, before fully removing his hands.

With a gravelly sensual tone, he continued, “Do you want to know why I want you so badly, Dearest?”

Hearing him shuffling around slightly, you nodded as a small amount of butterflies began to form in your gut.

The blue devil laid down over you, getting as close to your ear as possible, “Because you are mine-- my human plaything; do you understand?”

Against your lower back, you could feel his cock twitching and could feel how unbearably hot his skin had become. You swallowed hard, “I’m not sure I do.”

Vergil placed his forehead between your shoulder blades. He used one hand to prop himself up and the other was around his dick, stroking it slightly, as he whispered, “You are bound to me; in both heart, soul, and body .”

Without allowing you to respond, he prodded at your hole with his tip and slowly began to inch his way inside. A loud moan left your lips as you did your best to relax into him; feeling each bit of him that entered your body.

“You are my mate,” once fully seated inside you, he returned to your ear, “My one and only,” the blue devil kissed your ear, then gently bit and tugged at it, “for the rest of eternity.”

He sat back up with hands now placed on both sides of your hips. In response you picked your ass up, creating a downward dog position.

It started slow and controlled. He’d only pull out an inch or two and very carefully push himself back in, not wanting to harm you. However, these gentle motions didn’t last very long. Vergil did try his best to control himself; biting his lip, gripping onto you (unintentionally bruising you yet again), et cetera, but it didn’t work.

Vergil pulled his dick out, leaving just the very tip of it inside you, and rammed into you. It was hard enough that you jolted forward and let out a moan that was somewhere between pleased and startled. He repeated this motion but picked up the pace with each jab. Soon enough, all that could be heard throughout the house was the sound of his balls hitting your skin and your moans of bliss. Vergil wrapped his hand around the front of your neck and pulled you upwards, bringing you into a kneeling position.

Now using quick shorter thrusts he wrapped his arms around your middle, holding you flush against his body. A small amount of drool left the corner of your mouth as your vision became blurry, completely engulfed with the feeling of Vergil inside you. Mindlessly, you laid your head against the top of his shoulder which gave him plenty of room to bite and suck at your neck. One of your hands found its way to his hair, grabbing it tightly, and your other was neatly interwoven with a hand from your devilish lover. Your grip tightened on his hand as you moved your hips, doing your best to complement Vergil’s pattern.

This pose didn’t last very long. Vergil roughly shoved you back down and stood up, pulling out completely. Before you could question, you felt him harshly yank you over onto your back. Now facing upwards at the disheveled man, you got a proper view of him and you noticed several things that were just ever-so-slightly off. His teeth were much sharper and slightly thicker. A finite amount of scales had appeared on his cheekbones. The glowing icy blue eye color that you’d noticed earlier, was even more apparent and had heavily dilated pupils in the middle that were intensely trained on you.

You placed a hand on his cheek, very carefully thumbing over the black-blue scales. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closed tightly, and gave your palm a long kiss, momentarily staying with lips pressed against your hand. An unintentional confused 'huh?' left your lips at how hot his breath and mouth were, he was scorching; the hottest you’ve ever felt from him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and leaned back up.

The blue devil slid off the bed and pulled you to the edge then put his tip back inside only to slam as hard as possible into your hips.

“Fuck~ Vergil,” you arched your back and wrapped your legs around his hips.

With a smirk, he repeated the action and created a pattern of extremely hard and moderately forceful thrusts that he switched between every four or five thrusts. Vergil looked down at you with a devilish smile, reveling in how undone he made you. Getting an insurmountable amount of arousing pleasure from the sounds of unintelligible gibberish moaning coming from you. The sight of your body being moved by just the force of his jabs. All he wanted to do was feel your insides even more, to reach as far as he could inside and claim every bit of you.

He grabbed your legs and pulled them up, resting them on his shoulders. The feeling of sinful pride he had only increased as he heard you call his name and saw your hands grabbing the sheets tightly. He slowed his hips for a moment, still maintaining the force of each thrust but trying to prevent himself from making a mistake and Triggering.

Vergil’s hands slid from your calves to your thighs, firmly kneading against your skin--his fingertips being imprinted into your skin with dark marks. A very distant dark part of him wanted to eat you, to bite your flesh --to mar it up --to cover you with his scent --to make sure you know exactly which devil you belong to. He licked his lips as he let out low heavy breaths from his partially opened mouth. Feeling his peak coming, he looked up at the ceiling as his thrusts became shorter and his pace picked up, moving faster than before.

Typically, he wouldn’t finish this fast but he couldn’t help himself. All he’s wanted to do for nearly a week is just fill your insides, and he was going to do just that. Vergil shifted slightly, making sure to hit your prostate with each gyration.

He let out a loud growling moan, cumming inside you. Only a few moments later did you call out with a sharp moan as you felt an intense orgasm ripping through your body.

Slowly, Vergil rode out both your orgasms. Gently, he removed your legs from his shoulders and pulled out of your body. You gazed into space for a moment before leaning up slightly to see Vergil, confused as to why he hadn’t said anything.

You audibly swallowed as you stared at him, “Y-you’re that pent up, huh?”

Vergil shamefully met your eyes. He was still hard and had scales on several other spots on his body. The thoughts of allowing himself to cut loose, to show you his inner urges without a filter made him both unfathomably terrified and overwhelmingly aroused. This was bad and he knew it, and seeing you so blissfully unaware of the danger you were in only tempted him further.

“Vergil,” you sat up fully a small grunt leaving your lips at the dull pain from being slammed so hard, “You alright?”

His lips thinned as he furrowed his brow, avoiding your gaze once more, “I am fine; however, I…” He paused, unable to finish his sentence.

“We could try it out, you know,” you gave him a meek smile as his eyes flicked to yours.

He shook his head ‘no’, “I can’t risk hurting you for something so trivial.”

“This is obviously not ‘trivial’. You never have this issue-- not to mention how different you’ve been acting,” you reached out to grab one of his hands, “What’s wrong, Vergil? You can tell me; I promise I won’t judge or get upset.”

The blue devil intently watched as you ran your thumb over his knuckles, “Fine…” He moved to sit beside you on the bed, staring straight ahead, “You know what an animal in “rut” means, correct?”

You nodded, “Yeah,” your eyes thinned as you slowly turned to him, “Vergil, you don’t mean--?”

“I should’ve told you before we…” he sighed with his shoulders tensing, “Because you and I became intimately involved, I now will go through this every spring,” he looked over to you, momentarily locking with your stare, “and you are the only one that can give me… relief .”

With a slow nod and deep breath, your eyes flicked between his hard-on and his gaze, “Guess I didn’t provide enough “relief”, huh?”

He gave you a small smile, “I’m afraid it’s not something that will be able to be soothed with only a round or two or even three, my love.”

You moved your jaw in thought and stood up. Sighing softly, you moved Vergil’s arms off to his sides and sat on his lap. You placed one hand on his chest and used the other to push a strand of hair out of his eyes, resting the hand on his cheek afterward. A loud purring emanated from his chest, vibrating your fingers, as you stared softly into his icy-blue eyes, “I love you so much Vergil; you know that?”

The blue devil smiled, “I do,” he leaned closer to you, placing his forehead against yours, speaking in a breathy whisper; his breath ghosting along your lips, “I love you as well; more than words could ever describe.”

The two of you connected lips and the hand that was on Vergil’s chest slid up to his face; allowing you to cup it between your hands. Vergil took his hands and ran them down your sides and then settled to hold your lower back as he continued to give you sloppy sweet kisses, gently pushing his mouth against you.

Cautiously, Vergil bit at your lips to ask for permission to enter your mouth; which you accepted. He let out an unintentional elated moan at the feeling of your tongue with his. His fingertips dug into your skin, pressing and kneading against you in excitement. With a lustful aggressiveness, Vergil pushed you onto your back--down onto the floor of the bedroom.

Making sure to maintain the kiss, Vergil shifted the both of you around so he could line himself up with your hole. Slowly, he slid back inside and devoured each of the divine noises that you made in response. That thought made him growl slightly; he wants to defile you over and over, to hold you for as long as you will allow him to.

Only once he was fully within you did he break off the kiss and allow you to take a deep breath. He held himself up with his arms, looking down at your breathless form. A prideful smug smile tugged at his lips as he began to move slightly, grinding himself into you. It didn't take long for him to reach a moderate pace. You reached up and ran your hands along his body, feeling each divot, each curve, each soft and hard surface; taking notes to yourself as if you hadn’t ever been allowed to touch him before. His heart was pounding so fast that you could feel it no matter where your hands were.

The blue devil’s mind was reeling. He was so engrossed in how good you feel that he hadn’t noticed how hard he was slamming into you, pushing you along the floor with each pass of his hips. His growling had returned, albeit tenfold louder and a great deal more animalistic; completely replacing his moans.

Although you know Vergil has issues with you touching his back, you were too immersed in the moment and wrapped your arms around him. One of your hands found its way to the back of Vergil’s head, threading your fingers tightly into his hair. You did your best to try and wrap your legs around him too; hoping to prevent him from shoving you along the floor any further.

He did stop for a moment, only to take the opportunity to pick you up and slam you against one of the walls of the room; knocking several things from their hanging spots. A sharp moan left your lips as you felt his nails aggressively dig into the sides of your thighs. Vergil placed his mouth at the crook of your shoulder and nipped at the skin, leaving various marks.

You let out a slight hiss as he got a little too close to one of the deeper marks from earlier; in a way to seemingly apologize, he gently licked at your neck. He then leaned back and looked at you for a moment, letting out a set of shaky breaths. Vergil connected lips with you as you slid both hands into his hair; grabbing fistfuls of the silky white strands. His kisses were aggressive, pushing your head against the wall. Your body tensed, legs tightening around him, you were getting close--and so was he.

Quick jack-rabbit thrusts replaced his previous tempo. His wandering grip continued as he slammed your hips down into his, moving your body in a harsh rhythm with his. The two of you parted lips allowing you to throw your head back--at least the best you could being against a wall--and Vergil placed kisses on your windpipe.

The blue devil placed his head on your shoulder as he focused on fucking you. It didn’t take long for him to reach nirvana, spilling himself inside you with a low sustained frustrated growl. You reached your peak as well; cumming with a low grunt and gentle groan of Vergil’s name.

He ground against you and let out gentle shuddering breaths against your neck, giving you slight goosebumps. Without removing himself, he carried you back over to the bed and laid you down. Propped upwards using his hands, he stared down at you. Vergil was breathing heavily with a hung-open mouth and had a layer of sweat on his brow. More scales had appeared and his stare was oddly blank, as if he were lost in deep thought. You watched as he used his tongue to play with one of his canines and his brow twitched into a slightly agitated state.

“Vergil?” You weakly grabbed one of his biceps, giving it a light squeeze, “Is everything okay?”

A set of quick blinks brought his eyes back into focus, accompanied by a shake of his head, “Yes, I am alright--sorry.”

After a pause, he leaned up and gradually removed himself. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling and you stared up at the ceiling for a moment before tilting up to look at the blue devil.

“Oh…” You gave him a dumbfounded stare. He was still hard, cock twitching at your surprise.

Once you looked up at Vergil’s face, you saw that he had crossed his arms with one hand over his face; mortified and ashamed of what was happening.

With an awkward laugh, you took a deep breath, “So, how many rounds do you need, again?”

Vergil’s eyes slowly met with yours as he shook his head, whispering, “I’m… unsure.”

You scrunched your mouth to the side, “What about trying to use your “Trigger”? You seem even worse off than earlier, Vergil.”

He removed his hand from his face and shot you a stern glance, “No, I can’t risk hurting you--”

“Vergil, if you keep this up, you will hurt me,” you grunted in slight pain as you sat up fully, “I can only take so much,” you laughed slightly, placing a hand on the back of your neck, “Especially with how rough you’re being.”

The blue devil thought for a moment, his tongue playing with his teeth. A part of him knew you were right, that if this continued there was a very high chance he would hurt you, and he really loved the idea of allowing himself to let go--to show you what he could really do. Still, the sheer amount of uncontrollable possibilities kept him hesitant.

What if you don’t like it and he’s too far gone to stop?

What if he manhandles you too hard and breaks something--either something in the room or, more importantly, you?

What if he hit you against the wall or floor too hard and hurt you?

What if he bit you and couldn’t stop himself from sinking his teeth in too far?

What if you died because of him and his stupid demonic instincts?

“Vergil..?”

He flinched at your sudden closeness. You’d gotten up and were standing in front of him, concerned that he was standing silently for so long. With one hand on his bicep and the other cupping his face, you made small circles with your thumbs. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned towards you, placing his forehead against yours.

The two of you shared a very sweet and emotionally soft kiss, drawing it out for quite some time.

With lips just above his, you quietly pleaded, “You can do whatever you need to, Vergil; it’ll be okay.”

Vergil swallowed hard. With one final squeeze of his arm, you let go of him. His eyes flicked all over your body as he gave it one final thought. Taking a deep breath, he nodded; he had to try it.

All he could hear was the loud pounding of his heart as he allowed himself to Trigger. Soft cornflower blue light filled the space. You smiled at the sight before you. It wasn’t very often you got to see Vergil use either of his Devil Triggers; his normal Trigger being a much rarer sight.

Under his breath, he let out a soft chuckle at your doting stare. Although he’s never told you, he finds it amusing that you’re so enamored with his devilish forms. He unfurled his wings from his sides and mindlessly stretched them outwards before bringing them back in close to his body. Pride pricked at his heart as he saw your expression of such a trivial act.

Cautiously, you approached him and reached out to touch his chest. This was the first time Vergil had allowed you to be anywhere near him while in a non-human state. His scales were hot to the touch, but not painfully more along the lines of freshly dried linen or hot asphalt. Through your fingers, you could feel a low rumble coming from within his chest.

With a slight shake, Vergil placed a hand over yours and locked eyes with you. Uneven breaths left his lips as he waited for you to say something-- anything.

You smiled softly and inched closer, placing your head on his chest, “You are so beautiful, you know that?”

A noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh left his nose, “That’s not what one should say when face-to-face with a devil.” Vergil wrapped his arms loosely around you.

“I’m not just face-to-face with “ a devil”,” you smiled wider and looked up at him, “I’m face-to-face with m-my…” you stumbled over your words as an embarrassed shade spread across your face, your confidence quickly dissipating.

“Your what?” He tilted his head in curiosity, wanting nothing more than to hear you say it.

With a voice no louder than a whisper you looked away from his eyes, “with my mate.”

He stared with parted lips before giving a small smile, “How strange to hear you say that,” Vergil leaned down to you, whispering, “Are you sure this is alright?”

Without answering, you connected your lips to his. Your hands slid up to the base of his neck on either side, gently scraping your nails on his scales as you went along. His arms tightened to pull you closer, placing one at the small of your back and the other on your ass. Slow careful kisses turned to sloppy impassioned French kisses. Vergil's tongue desperately felt the inside of your mouth, now being able to reach even further inside. You let out a surprised grunt at the feeling but were quickly distracted by a harsh groping motion against your ass.

Once you broke apart, the two of you stood staring at one another. Curious as to what he’d do, you ran your hands slowly down his torso. The heat coming from his body was unbelievable but his lower abdomen was tenfold worse. Distantly you found yourself worried if his cock would be too hot for your body to take in. As your fingers worked their way down, you took note of the texture changes between his chest, stomach, and the bright blue V that pointed to where you were headed.

Gently, you rubbed your fingertips up and down the glowing area, earning a stifled groan from Vergil. Curiously enough, you were expecting the area to feel akin to the rest of his scales--hard and rough--but were greeted by a warm velvety silk feeling. As you kneaded against him, he pulled you into another set of passionate kisses. The hand from your lower back traveled up your spine and braced the back of your neck, pulling you as close to him as possible.

Mindlessly, he leaned forward and dipped you back slightly. He broke from your mouth and kissed the corner of your mouth. Bit by bit, he kissed along your jawline, to your neck, and finally your throat. All the while, your fingers continued to their original destination. Carefully, you teased the area around his still-hidden cock and lightly ran your middle finger along his slit. Vergil’s breath hitched and he stopped his kisses, his breath washing over your skin.

A sultry smirk tugged at your mouth as you felt his tip begin to emerge. Vergil’s wings uncontrollably flexed outwards at the odd feeling, much to the blue devil’s surprise--and slight dismay. He’d never thought about trying anything even remotely sexual while like this, so the feeling of your fingers kneading against him made him feel as if he were a virgin again; feeling overwhelmed by nothing but the slightest of your touches.

You slowly ran his tip between your fore and middle fingers, feeling pre-cum dripping onto your digits. His cock was pleasantly warmer than normal, eliciting a small groan from you as you thought about him being inside you. The cum that decorated your fingers was also hotter than normal and seemed to be much thicker. The blue devil took a deep breath and shifted slightly, his wings curling around the two of you. In an almost painfully slow motion, Vergil ran his tongue along your neck, small papillae scrapping the sensitive area. He let out a shaky breath as you stroked along the sheath where his cock was, making his cock appear much faster than intended.

Before you managed to have him fully out, Vergil picked you up and placed you onto the mattress. He placed both his hands beside either side of your head, still standing, and his wings outstretched behind him. You stared up at him as a small shiver ran up your spine at the sight. Vergil’s eyes were dilated heavily and were fixated on yours. A part of you knows you should be afraid or at least apprehensive about what is happening, but you couldn’t be bothered; you were much too invested in the moment.

A wicked grin adorned his face, teeth on full display, “You really want me, don’t you?”

“And if I do?”

“Hmph,” the blue devil leaned back up and pulled your hips to the edge of the bed.

With slow long pumps, he touched himself to the sight of you. However, when you tried to lean up to see, he quickly pushed you flat.

“Did I tell you to move?” His voice was utterly layered with an overwhelming dominance.

Your gut churned and twisted as you waited with bated breath for him to ram your body, except, the blue devil knew he had to be careful with you. Although it was seen as a dominating move, Vergil laying you back was done to keep you calm. If you’d seen him fully erect, you would’ve tensed up tenfold worse and this would’ve been much more difficult than it already will be.

He grabbed the lube from the nearby table and coated his cock. Whatever excess was on his hand, he very carefully put it at your entrance--making sure his claws didn’t knick you. After a small debate, he dragged you a bit closer and put your ankles on his shoulders, aligning himself with your hole.

“Relax,” he placed a hand on your stomach, skin dipping down slightly from the tips of his claws, “Just focus on your breathing.”

You pursed your lips and stared mindlessly at the ceiling, doing just as he said and taking deep calm breaths, trying to keep yourself from tensing.

Vergil pushed his tip in, earning a gasp and deep grunting moan from you. Bit by bit, he continued to push inside, doing his best to fight the urge to slam against you. You were gripping the bed, pulling on the already decimated sheets. The size of Vergil’s cock normally is something that would make most men green with envy but the size he was working with now was nothing short of “porn star” material.

His hand that was on your gut slid up to your chest as he leaned down into you, causing him to push inside quicker than intended. Doing his best to not cut you with his claws, Vergil groped at your pecs and lightly kneaded against you. Low in his chest, he was emitting a purr that was intense enough that you could feel it through his hand.

After what seemed like an eternity, he was fully seated within you. Heavy deep lust laden breaths left your agape lips as the blue devil closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of your innards snuggly squeezing around him. Vergil could feel your rapid heartbeat and could practically taste your arousal; being able to smell human pheromones just like a human can a fresh baked bread, sometimes being strong enough to give a taste to the air. It made his body ache, giving him a strong sense of pride to know that you were just as madly into him as he is you.

You placed a hand atop the charcoal-grey scaled hand on your chest, “Vergil…”

The two of you locked eyes and Vergil leaned down to you. Gently, he kissed you. It was a physical manifestation of a promise; a promise that he will take good care of you. The black and blue scaled devil tilted back upright, his fingers lightly clawing up your middle sliding to rest on each side of your hips. With slow careful--almost fearful--motion, he began to test what you thought of his devilish body. A string of low groans left your lips as you closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock. Your chest was moving in an almost exaggerated manner as Vergil slowly ramped things up. The unhurried nature of his movements allowed you to feel each rib of his cock, feeling every time one would leave and re-enter your aching hole.

In an elongated teasing manner, Vergil removed himself out to his tip and pushed back in--making sure you felt every bit of him and savored him. He closed his eyes, doing his best to keep a level head as he intently listened to the breathy moans leaving your lips.

Once more, he removed himself out to the tip; this time, however, he slammed back inside. A sharp mixed noise of a grunt, moan, and gasp came from you. His eyes opened as he repeated the action; making sure to remove himself slower than before and return twice as hard.

Your back arched at his actions, eyes focused on the ceiling above you. When you looked back at Vergil, his eyes were trained on yours with an unplaceable emotion hidden behind his gaze. His emotion became clear when he harshly pulled out and slammed his hips against you; no longer feeling the need to hold back.

With each thrust, you were pushed up on the bed and his hands would yank you back down to meet the brutal bucking of his hips. All that could be heard was the sound of his hips hitting yours and the wet squelching from the previous rounds and copious amounts of lube in your ass. Concentrating on your expression, Vergil failed to notice that his claws had sunk into your skin which anchored his grip into you. Leaning down, he placed his face in the crook of your shoulder; kissing you carefully.

After a moment, he leaned back up slightly to place his nose beside yours. You placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing over the leathery skin. Your pinkie mindlessly ran along the silver spikes that formed a beard of sorts at his jawline, curious as to what it felt like. He leaned into your touch and, despite him still jackhammering away, he felt a warm sweet feeling at your overly gentle treatment of him.

“Grab onto me,” Vergil whispered, his voice thick with lust and uncharacteristically gruff.

You did as he asked, wrapping your hands around the backside of his neck. Vergil picked you up and wrapped his wings around you, pushing you tightly against him. A small hiss slipped through your lips at the feeling of your dick rubbing against Vergil’s torso. It didn’t hurt per se but it was extremely overwhelming. Your nails dug into his scales, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

Seeming to notice your distress, the blue devil began to lightly lick and nip at your neck and throat. He took a long deep inhale of your scent, pressing his chest against yours, desiring to get closer to you than possible. As he exhaled, you felt his hot breath wash over you and tickle at your skin causing you to let out a restrained laugh.

With a hum, Vergil slowed slightly and took a moment to enjoy the closeness of your bodies. The feeling of your soft human skin against his scales made his gut twist. A distant hidden part of him felt an odd arousal from the idea of how fragile you were--how he could crush you instantly if he wanted; completely contradicting his main anxious mindset.

Moving your hand to his chest, you pushed him away, confusing Vergil for a moment, before you cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss. Lazy sloppy kisses caused him to let out a small moan, which intensified at the feeling of you repeatedly biting at his lower lip. His thrusts switched to a moderate pace as his fingertips kneaded against you. As you pulled away, he let out a disappointed huff, which was quickly replaced with a dark low gravely moan.

Despite not being able to break his hide, you leaned down and bit his neck; at a somewhat odd angle because of the horns that wrapped around to the front of his head. It is rare for Vergil to allow you to bite him, however, feeling you claim him--just as he did you--made his body ache. After a moment, you stopped and placed a soft kiss against him. You repeated the action on the other side of his neck, Once done, you trailed kisses along his neck to his throat and placed an elongated kiss against his Adam’s apple. Vergil let out a small grunt at the feeling and, when you tilted back, you were met with heavy half-lidded eyes.

The blue devil nudged you to expose your neck and placed his face in the crook of your shoulder, breathing heavily, “I love you.”

Without allowing you to respond, he pushed your hips downwards and fucked into you as quickly as possible. A loud groan left your lips at the inhuman speed of Vergil’s cock and you grasped at whatever you could, causing Vergil to let out a surprised huffed moan at your unexpectedly rough touches. His claws left the new loving craters in your thighs and slid to your ass, pulling you apart.

Before you could question, your eyes went wide. The blue devil pushed his knot inside you, somewhat forcefully, as he let out a thunderous semi-whiney shaky moan. Once buried into you, his hands returned to your hips and his claws to the same holes as before.

You let out a whimpering moan as you hit another peak, feeling his cum gush inside you. He hadn’t disclosed anything about a knot or that he was going to use it inside you, but you weren’t complaining. It felt as if he’d been pent up for a year with how quickly and how much was being released.

It was both a painful and heavenly experience.

All the while, Vergil could only continue to repeat your name and whisper how much he loves you; almost as if he were begging for you to say it back, as if you weren’t already committed to him. With a soft kiss against his horn closest to your mouth, you whispered, “I love you,” which caused him to grind against you, attempting to further spear you than he had already.

Unsure what to do now you were stuck together, Vergil laid you back down and laid atop you. His wings were stretched out flat and his forearms were wrapped around your torso, across your shoulder blades. With his face directly down onto your chest, his eyes fluttered shut and he purred loudly. Although you wanted nothing to do but lie still, curiosity got the better of you, and you ran a hand along his horns which made him purr tenfold louder.

Admittedly, Vergil wanted to stay as you were, interlocked and him pinning you down; but he also wanted to patch you up. You could feel how fast his heart was beating; whether it was from fucking, cumming, or nerves was anyone’s guess. All you could do was lay there and take it while listening to his breathing and purring. The two of you stayed interwoven for nearly ten minutes, Vergil shifting several times in an attempt to remove himself.

Finally, he stopped twitching. He stood back up and carefully slid out which was accompanied by an audible pop and your hips quivering. Vergil’s chest heaved as he de-triggered. Beyond tired, he returned to the same position as before and laid against your chest.

“Vergil?” Your voice was raspy and very overtly worn out.

Without moving, he spoke against your skin, “Yes, my love?”

You placed a hand in his hair, running your fingers through the utterly disheveled white strands, “How do you feel?”

He quietly laughed, “I am calm, for now; if that is what you are asking.”

With a heavy exhale you hummed a sound of relief.

“How are you feeling?”

“Want me to be honest?”

“Mhm.”

“Like I was just in a category five hurricane.”

“I’m sorry,” he placed a kiss against your breastbone, “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

Lightly, you ran your fingers down his neck to his shoulder blades, sliding up his arm, “Help me get into the bath?”

Vergil smiled, “Of course, my dear,” he shifted upwards and placed a kiss against your lips, “Anything for my mate.”

===

ENDING NOTES: Originally I had planned to also have Sin Trigger sex in this but I thought that would be a bit too much to digest from one story; plus “Bed of the Blue Devil” is entirely based on that aspect. Also between the teaser from yesterday (early this morning) and now; I found out that I have the ‘rona so… Life is really great--it’s just one thing after another, I finally wanna write and do stuff but now I’m exhausted and feel like someone beat my skull in with a sledgehammer 🦢💧🦢 Poem Quoted: “Love’s Philosophy” Percy Bysshe Shelley

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

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kylefletchersgf · 3 months

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✰✰✰『The Infantry』✰✰✰

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.

-ˋˏ [Word Count] ˎˊ : 1.5k

-ˋˏ [Genre] ˎˊ : angst

-ˋˏ [TW] ˎˊ : angst, mistakes I might have, some cuss words

-ˋˏ [Taglist] ˎˊ : @mariahsmays @nev-danielgarciawife

[Let me know if you want to be in the taglist]

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.

You walked in the arena with Shawn and Carlie while Trish waited for y’all inside sitting on a crate, excited to see you like always but you was talking and laughing with Shawn Dean and her excitement disappeared fast. She loved him as a partner but she loved you like a girlfriend, it hurt her every time she saw you talking or laughing with him she always thought the worst and that something may be going on with you and Shawn. You and Shawn kept laughing and talking walking past Trish without even noticing her which made her look upset.

She looked over at Carlie “like I’m not even here” he looked over at her “try being in a car with them” he scoffed. “Did you tell her?” Carlie asked looking over at her “no” Trish sighed getting off the crate, she started walking with Carlie to the locker room “text it to her” “no this needs to be said to her face” “true but tell her” he said going in the locker room with Trish following. She slumped on the couch in the locker room as Carlie sat next to her making you and Shawn look over at them.

You looked over at Shawn “who we fighting tonight?” He looked over at her “J.A.S” she nodded as she headed to the door “Trish you coming?” You ask as Shawn adds in “Carlie?” “No I’m good” “no” they responded so you shrug it off walking away with Shawn. You look over at him “what’s wrong with them?” “I have no idea” he says as you and him grab a plate at the catering table. “Shawn?” “Yeah y/n?” “What’s wrong with Trish?” “I don’t know she’s been like that for the past few weeks now” you thought after he said that.

After you both ate some light stuff you walked back to the Infantry locker room to get Trish and Carlie for your upcoming match, they got ready and Trish walked right past you not even looking at you or Shawn which made the two of you look at each other confused. “What’s her problem?” “I don’t even know” he shrugged. When Carlie came out the locker room you stop him “what’s wrong with Trish?” “I have no idea” he lied straight to your face you just didn’t know it. You and Shawn shrugged it off walking to the ring together.

You got in the ring standing next to Shawn as the 4 of you did your group pose standing across the ring from Tay, Anna, Matt Menard, and Angelo Parker; J.A.S. In the middle of the match Shawn got knocked down which made you crouch down to check on him so which left Trish to get the tag and take over. She rolled her eyes annoyed at the fact that you were checking on him out of either out of pettiness or jealousy; maybe both. You got Shawn back on the apron and you got back on the apron also.

Trish walked over to you and smacked your chest hard tagging you in as she got out the ring, you got in the ring looking at her “what is your problem?” Before she could answer Anna Jay ran at you kicking you hard making you fall to the mat leaning against the turnbuckle holding your arms to your head trying to protect it as Anna started to stomp your head in. Whatever was bothering Trish started to get to you making you loose your focus, when you finally got her down you walked over to Carlie tagging him.

He looked at you as you rolled out the ring standing against the apron holding your mouth as Carlie got into the ring Shawn walked over to you to check on you. “The fuck was that about?” You ask him referring to how Trish tagged you, he looked down at you “I have no idea what’s going on but it needs to stop so we can focus” “I know” you reply walking up the steps standing on the apron and as Shawn got back on the apron. When you got back on the apron Trish is avoiding you and Shawn.

After the match the 4 of you walked backstage but you stopped Trish as Carlie and Shawn continued walking “Trish what the fuck is your problem?” You asked her pissed off. “You know what you did Y/n” “me? What did I do?” “You know what Y/n I’ll tell you, ever since you joined the Infantry I started to like you but all you seem to care about is Shawn and only Shawn. Y/n I love you” she admitted. You stood there taking everything in not know what to say so you stood there trying to think of what to say.

You finally got the words to say “look Trish you’re my girl and all but I don’t see you that way and I already got the memo of what you think about this whole ‘Shawn and I thing’ that him and I are sleeping around, we’re not Trish I already hear enough of that shit on twitter I don’t need to hear it from my faction partner. I love you Trish just not like that and it may be hard but that’s something you have to accept I’m straight and I will always be straight and always will like men.”

That last sentence broke her heart “why didn’t you just tell me that you wanted Shawn?” “What does this have to do with Shawn this is about you and me?” “Because you like him Y/n I see it” “you know what Trish maybe I do like Shawn and since that is a problem I’ll just go, you need to sort out whatever this is that’s going on in your mind Trish. Do not contact me at all not even for work, if it’s about work you tell Carlie and he’ll tell me” you say walking away pissed off and confused.

Over the next few months you didn’t talk to Trish because of the argument that happened, since it was an off day you and your now boyfriend Shawn Dean hung out and decided to be lazy at your house sitting on your couch while Trish hung out with Carlie at his house. You are sitting on his lap leaning back on him as he took a picture of the both of you and took a second one of you still sitting on his lap with him him kissing your jaw making you smile in the pic and he posted them.

When the photos posted Trish looked over at Carlie showing him the post “see I told you they was dating” she said that with hurt in her voice as Carlie rubbed her back, he took a deep breath “Trish there’s nothing you can do about it she just didn’t like you that way but she liked you as a friend” “but I fucked it up” she said correcting him. “Trish look I know you did but you have to respect that Y/n and Shawn need space” “it’s been months Carlie when are we going to fix this” she sighed.

“Did you try texting her?” “She told me not to text her” “hold on” Carlie said getting out his phone. He texted Y/n to resolve this whole thing and you agreed to at least put it behind you so you don’t have to worry about her anymore. Later that day the 4 of you sat at a table away from everyone, you was the one to speak up first “look Carlie there’s nothing to fix, Trish got pissed off that I was into Shawn and not her and she couldn’t accept that, I didn’t mind that she liked me like that.”

You continued “it wouldn’t have made me look at her differently it’s how she handled it is what made me look at her differently” you said as Shawn put his and on your inner thigh. “I’m sorry Y/n I really am” “look Trish I just want this shit to be over with, we can be cool that’s fine but anything outside of work and the Infantry do not text or call Shawn and I” you said getting up waiting for Shawn leaving some money for Carlie because he got some drinks before you left with Shawn. You was still mad at her.

You had every right to still be mad, after the argument even though you told her not to text you or talk to you she did anyway disregarding the boundaries you set and that completely changed your attitude about her. She was upset that she lost you and even though you still cared about her you had to put her in your past and continue living your life with Shawn even if that means she’s not in it or if you and Shawn had to leave the Infantry altogether. You went home with Shawn and continued what you was doing.

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berylcups · 6 months

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Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Risotto x Reader

CW: Bodily injury, blood, vomit, Poisoning,dubious consent, Cucking(?)

Edit: Edited the title because it was too vague and generic sounding. 😖 Everything else is the same!

Features: technically it’s a Zeppeli!Reader fic but it’s only mentioned like once. Not a main feature of the fic so you can ignore that minor detail for your self inserts and OCs 🥰

⚠️ Here’s my biggest fic yet! And it’s gruesome it’s nasty and it’s bad. Please HEED the CONTENT WARNINGS!!! To skip the barf scene it’s separated by ///////s. NSFW MINORS DNI ⚠️

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Like this see?

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I hope y’all enjoy it. Writing smut was very fun but challenging! Well let’s gooooooo-

Having a devastating stand isn’t always what it’s cut out to be. Y/N had a very powerful stand but whenever they overexerted themselves they would get very sick and weak for a few days. Their power was radiation. Y/N has a high tolerance for radiation, for up to 3 times the lethal dosage, but they start feeling the illness from the 2 times mark. Y/N is used to this, this is a burden they must bear in order to serve the boss, and to protect Trish, the daughter of the boss.

Fighting off the La Squadra with the rest of the gang is wearing down Y/N. But Y/N has the Zeppeli blood inside them and knows it’s their duty to fight and protect till their very last breath. Y/N is determined to stay strong for Bucciarati and the others even when they are literally staring down their executioner at this very moment.

“Don’t assume I’m afraid to die. I’m willing to take you down with me.” Y/N glared up at their captor. They were intimidated by his black sclera and blood red irises but they weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of showing any fear.

“ Nice try. I know you can’t right now. Your body is still mending and you’re too weak to even try.” Risotto calmly answered.

“Now I’m going to ask you once before I decide to torture the answers out of you … where are you and bucciarati hiding the boss’s daughter?” He gave a fair warning before interrogating them.

“Eat shit. I’ll never tell you! Just go ahead and kill me because you’re just wasting your time!”

Y/N tried to move their arm to try and punch him but they couldn’t budge a damn inch. A clinking noise echoed in the basement reminding them how dire their situation was. Y/N was being held up by their wrists with metal cuffs. They couldn’t really tell at first because their whole body was sore and still groggy. Looking down their clothing was gone too except for their underwear. This just made them feel more small and exposed. Y/N wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of their embarrassment, they were going to stay strong. This wasn’t the first time they were nude in front of a stranger.

He chuckled quietly. “You’re just asking for it. Stay stubborn for all I care. I got all the time in the world.”

Y/N felt a sharp pain in their left breast and then something lukewarm started dripping down their chest. Y/N looked down in horror and saw a bloody sewing needle sticking out their breast. They wanted to wince but fought it back.

“I told you I would only give you one warning. I’m starting off easy on you since you’re AFAB but that’s not going to stop me from doing worse things to you.” He warned again.

“You’ll have to try harder than that. I’m used to being in pain.” They said shuddering.

“Really now? What should I do then… you used to be a cheap whore before Bucciarati took you off the streets. Maybe I should get my men in here and thoroughly use you. Or are you used to being a cumdump too?” He chuckled sadistically.

This struck a chord in them. Y/N is usually calm and confident but bringing up their past is just a huge kick to the gut. They don’t like their pride being shit on.

“Fuck you!” Y/N spat and used their free legs to try to kick him in the crotch.

He quickly caught their leg before they could make contact and then they felt an unbearable sharp white hot pain coming from their Achilles heel.

“Augh! No! Oh God!” They screamed in agony. They trembled and held back themselves from vomiting from the pain and peeked down at their right foot. There was a massive razor blade sliced open their Achilles heel. Their tendon was completely severed. Blood started to pool on the concrete floor making sickening dripping noises.

“The left one will be next…” he growled. “Now tell me, where’s the damn girl?”

“I said I will never tell you. Augh… She’s just a child. She didn’t ask to be the Boss’s daughter! If you want to find out the boss’s identity then be my guest. But I won't go against bucciaratis orders!” They defied him once more.

They could feel the same horrific pain coming from the left heel this time and they viscerally screamed at the top of their lungs. With both heels severed there’s no way for them to walk.

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The pain and the gruesome imagery was too much, they felt the intense wave of nausea hit and threw their head to the side and heaved. Feeling the burn from the bile of an empty stomach and the taste of blood from the radiation sickness still lingering, made them shudder and moan. Tears pricked their eyes from the horrible wave of events.

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Risotto was unbothered by the display of disgust. “Weak stomach huh? Poor thing. I’d bet you’d like some water to get that taste out of your mouth.” He low key teased.

“Yeah… I would like some water. But I know you are not a very accommodating host.” Y/N said while spitting in hopes of getting more of the taste out.

“You’re really loyal to bucciarati aren’t you? So much you’re willing to go through physical torture and still stand strong… hmm. I could just kill you since you’re refusing to cooperate but...” He said looking at Y/N very intently. He looked like a predator staring down its meal.

“I think I have a contingency plan in place. I’m going to use you as bait. Bucciarati is real soft on you isn’t he? Don’t act like you two aren’t intimate. I’m going to have him get you in exchange for the boss’s daughter.” He said smugly.

“He won’t do it! I won’t allow it! We are sworn to the boss’s orders to protect her!” Y/Ns cool was starting to crack a little. Bucciarati did love Y/N very much, but enough to screw the boss’s orders? No, of course not! Y/N had to put faith into Bucciarati and the rest of the guys that they will get them out of this situation.

“Oh we’ll see.”he chuckled darkly as he walked away for a minute messing with some kind of tripod camera. He had it aimed at a dirty old mattress. Y/Ns heart sunk into their stomach. They knew exactly what Risotto was up to.

“No… you can’t do that! Anything but that!” Y/N started to panic. They tried budging their restraints on their wrists out of desperation but it was just a waste of energy.

“It’s either me or all of my men at once. If you’re able to get knocked up you aren’t gonna know who the father is, and be humiliated by having several men’s cum all over you.” He warned giving Y/N their only 2 options. “So which option do you prefer?”

“I choose… you…” they said dejectedly.

“That’s my good Y/N.” He smirked. He walks up in front of them and frees them from the wall. Their aching wrists finally feel some relief.

“You said you were still thirsty right?” He asked.

“Uh yes I am…” as soon as they said that he picks them up and kissed them deeply.

“?!” Y/N gasps into the kiss out of shock and he takes that opportunity to shove his tongue into their mouth. Y/N didn’t fight back, they had to play along with him in front of the camera so bucciarati knows that they are in trouble.

Y/N licked back and sucked on his tongue. He groaned into the kiss and grinded his hips into theirs where they could feel him getting hard. He pulled back and dove back in and nibbled on their lips, hard enough to feel a little pain but not enough to break skin. Y/N did it back and then went to sloppy open mouth kisses with their tongues fighting their own battle. When they pulled back panting for air a string of saliva was connecting their lips.

He sat them on the mattress in front of him.

“Now show me how you keep bucciarati wrapped around your finger.” He said as spread his legs apart and undid his buckle and zipper.

Y/N is no stranger to servicing men or women. But the circumstances here made them a bit pink in the cheeks. This is the first time that they are going to be sucking the cock of their captor...and being filmed for it too as a ransom note.

“Please forgive me Bruno…” Y/N thought as they pulled the leader of La Squadras cock out. It was just as intimidating as the man himself. 9 and half inches uncut, very veiny, very girthy.

Y/N takes the twitching cock into their hand. It’s so massive that their tiny hand can’t fit all the way around it. Y/N gulps and musters the courage to open their plush lips apart and slowly put the tip in their mouth .

Their lips stretch apart as they have the whole tip in their hot mouth. Y/N sucks and laps at the head with their tongue, and they go deep down the shaft. They get a slow rhythm going bobbing their head up and down as slobber begins to pool from their mouth and over the cock.

“Fuck… Bucciarati is a very lucky man. You have to have done this very often. You’re very skilled.” He groaned, rubbing the back of their head. He was enjoying watching them struggle to take him in their mouth.

Y/N was getting a bit more comfortable so they ventured deeper, allowing more of his cock into their mouth and picking up some speed. They used their free hand gently to massage his balls . He threw his head back in response and let out a guttural moan.

He was in pure bliss, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore and grabbed their head and just started to buck up into their mouth. Y/N was getting their face fucked, they were gagging hard but tried to remain in control. The other girls who show them the ropes of prostitution said with oral alway remember to breathe through your nose and you’ll be okay, so they breathed through their nose as their face was getting fucked. They weren’t getting a lot of air but breathing through the nose helped with the gagging. Tears were flowing down their face and drool was dribbling down their chin as their face was being brutally fucked. Their face being buried in his pubic mound as fucked them hard made it more difficult to get air. Y/Ns vision was starting to get fuzzy.

“Y/N get ready I’m going to cum.” He panted.

Thank god.

Y/N was ready to receive his load. He quickly pulled out their mouth and came thick ropes onto their face and in their mouth. Some of it dribbled off their chin and onto their breasts.

“Swallow what I gave you.” He demanded.

Y/N showed the cum that splashed into their mouth and swallowed it. They opened their mouth and stuck their tongue out to show that they swallowed it all.

“Perfect . That’s my good Y/N.” He purred.

There was no way for Y/N to get on all fours due to the injuries he inflicted and he wanted to see their facial features as he splits them open. He shoves them down onto their back and they let out a weak oof.

They laid like a ragdoll on the makeshift bed as he looked down at their delicate body. He couldn’t believe that a weak person like them could cause such severe damage to a man triple their size.

They stared at the ceiling in a daze panting as they combed their fingers through their hair. Strands of hair came out between their fingers reminding Y/N that they still have radiation poisoning, as if the body aches and nausea wasn’t enough. Oh well… their hair grows back rapidly once the radiation fades.

He got on all four on top of Y/N, caging them in. He took one of his thick fingers and hooked it under the waistband of their underwear and pulled them down.

“These look good on you but they’re in my way.” He growled pulling them off completely bringing a shockwave of pain up their legs as it brushed up against their cut open heels.

“Shit…”they sharply inhaled trying to hold back the tears.

“Relax, I’m going to make you cry in another way real soon.” He grabbed their thighs and exposed their cunt to him. He stared them down and took one long lick from their perineum all the way up to their clit.

“!!!” Y/Ns body tensed up from the sudden warmth between their legs.

“You like that don’t you Y/N?” He purred and took another lick.

“Shit~”they shuddered in pleasure.

He bit hard on her right inner thigh leaving teeth marks. “Answer the question Y/N. Do you like it when I lick your slutty cunt?”

“Ow~!ok! Yes! I love it!” They shrieked feeling a jolt of adrenaline from the bite.

“Good Y/N… good things come to those who obey their capo.” He resumed lapping at their pussy. Oh man, he really was going to use this recording to get under bucciaratis skin isn’t he? He’s using all the tools at his disposal to disrespect Bucciarati, but also make him feel like he’s failed as a leader and as a partner.

“Right Y/N?”

“Hnngg… yes capo…” they moaned out. They knew they were betraying him and it breaks their heart, but they had to play along to survive and have faith that Bucciarati is going not only protect Trish but save them both.

“That’s right. I'M your capo.” He let out a sadistic snicker. He spread their lips and stuck a single finger inside their wet cunt. The intrusion felt pleasant, his finger was pretty thick. Very fitting for the hands of a man who murders for a living.

“Ah~” they whined, feeling the short lived pleasure. He stuck it in but he wasn’t moving. They looked up at him with confusion and concern in their puppy dog eyes.

“Beg for it and your capo will finger you good.” He smirked.

Begging? No way, Y/N has dignity! Y/N doesn’t beg for the enemy! But… the temptation is strong. Whether they like it or not, Risotto Nero is a very attractive man. And he already revved them up by eating them out, their cunt is drooling with want. Beg they must.

“Please capo! Please finger me!” They cried.

“Hmm… I don’t know. You don’t sound like you really want it.” He pondered while having a 2nd finger tease at the entrance.

“Please capo! I’ll be your whore! Your personal cumdump!” Tears ran down their face in frustration.

“Now we’re getting somewhere…go on. You almost convinced me.” He teased them further.

“Capo~! I’ll leave Bucciarati! You can keep me as collateral and do whatever you please with me!” They sobbed.

“That’s what I like to hear~ good Y/N. You finally know your place.” he praised them and shoved the 2nd finger in and started thrusting his fingers in and out of their weeping cunt.

“Oh ~ oh fuck~ Capo~” they mewled.

He laughed watching them weep in ecstasy.

“Does Bucciarati make you feel this good?” He asked thrusting and curling his fingers up to brush up against that soft sweet spot.

“…No… he doesn’t “ they cried. They felt a deep sense of guilt saying that, they knew Bucciarati knew it wasn’t true but even lying about it breaks their hea—

They felt a warm mouth on their clit and felt his tongue lapping at it like a thirsty animal.

“?!” The gasped so hard it hurt feeling him sucking and licking hard on their clit while furiously fingering them in tandem.

“Oh fuck! Capo~ “ they mewled. Their back arched and they grabbed on to his head to keep it in place. It was difficult to do so with his annoying hat in the way so he let them toss it off and grab him by the hair. Having his hair pulled on made him moan in their cunt and finger them faster in response.

“Capo~I’m gonna cum!” They sobbed with tears and drool just dripping down their face.

“Cum for your capo, Y/N.” He ordered.

“Augh! Capo! I’m cumming!” They shrieked.

The knot in their stomach was about to snap. The heat in them was intensifying. Their legs were shaking , and an orgasm came full force. They squirted all over his hand.

He pulled his soaked fingers out and gave them a taste.

“You look as good as you taste~ I can’t wait to wreak you.” He snickered as he took his pants completely off and started lining up his monstrous cock with their thoroughly wet pussy.

“Wait! I don’t think it’s going to fit! It will stretch me to my absolute limit!” Y/N panicked.

“ I made sure you were nice and wet. Besides, I wanna ruin you for Bucciarati. You’ll never want any man’s cock except mine ever again. I’m going to make your cunt a gaping mess.” He chuckled sadistically.

Y/N gulped in fear and prayed the stretch wouldn’t be agonizing. They have already been through so much pain the past 48 hours. He slowly breached his way in. It stung, he took up so much space. His tip is already kissing their cervix and their at least 2-3 inches left that still isn’t in yet. He forces it all the way in and Y/N groans in pain.

“You’re too big… this isn’t going to work.” They choked out.

“It’s either this or I go for your asshole. It’s up to you.” He warned.

There’s no way that cock is going anywhere near their ass. They knew with a cock that big they would end up disemboweled.

He gave them a brief minute and then he started to thrust.

“For an ex prostitute you’re really tight…” he panted

Y/N clenched their jaw and closed their eyes out of pain. Is this similar to giving birth? There’s something so huge inside you and it feels like it’s ripping you in half.

“Look at me.” He ordered.

They looked back up at him and stared into his blackened red eyes.

“I want you to see me ruin you. Look down at your stomach.” He instructed.

Y/N looked down at their painfully full stomach…there was a bulge there, his cock is so intrusive it’s bulging out of their stomach.

This seemed to turn the sadist on and he started to thrust harder. He loved how snug they were inside. It made him want to bury his cock even deeper into their cunt. Tears were rolling down their cheeks, for all the crying they did their cheeks were probably permanently stained by now.

Faintly the painful sting was starting to fade. Y/Ns body was slowly starting to relax; they could feel the heat growing in their stomach again.

“Starting to feel good?” He asked.

He smirked and picked up the pace. He nearly pulled all the way out and grabbed them by the thighs to hold them up. Then he thrusted back in hard, burying his cock as far it will go with the head penetrating the cervix.

“?!” Y/N gasp as they had the wind knocked out of them. They didn’t know how to register the feeling to be either pain or pleasure or both. Having the cervix breached was a foreign sensation to them.

The only noises that could be heard were the wet slapping sounds of flesh, the noisy mattress, panting, and the cries of ecstasy.

He completely brutalized her cunt, thrusting as hard as ever getting lost in the tightness and how slippery and wet it was coating his cock.

“Fuck, you look good taking me like this. I should have done this to you from the start!” He groaned.

“Ah~ Capo! You’re making me feel so full! I love it ~” they cried.

“Call me by my name.” He demanded. “ I wanna hear you say it.” He hooked his arms under their legs pushed them back .

“Risotto ~! Please fuck me harder~” Y/N mewled ignoring the pain in their heels.

Hearing his name like that lit a match under his ass, he immediately started to thrust harder and deeper like he wanted to break them. Seeing their lewd face with the tears and drool dribbling down their chin he put his head between theirs and their neck and sucked hard on it leaving his mark everywhere. They cried out and turned their head, exposing more of their neck. He kissed and licked down to the wounded breast and licked the trail of dried blood. He got their nipple in his mouth and sucked it hard enough to leave a hickey there as well. He wanted his enemy to know that he’s marked up all his precious partner.

“ Oh~ fuck Risotto ~ you are going to make me lose my mind!” They moaned.

He dove back down and kissed them deeply. He tasted of blood but Y/N didn’t care. Their tongues were fighting for dominance again while he was grinding his hips into theirs. They were timing his thrusts with their own. They were lost in the pleasure, they completely forgot that they were being held captive by this man. They were supposed to be fighting to the death but instead they are passionately fucking. The way he’s looking down at them, it almost looks to be a look of pure affection? No… Y/N is just delirious from all they've been through recently.

The familiar feeling was coming back. The knot in their stomach was coming loose.

“Risotto ~ I think I’m gonna cum!” Y/N howled, they were saying his name over and over again like it was a prayer.

“Me too. Cum with me!” He grunted. “Y/N! Fuck!”

They could feel themselves getting fuller from the cum being shot inside them. This set off their own orgasm as they clenched around his cock and squirted one last time. He let go of her legs, leaned in and gave one last deep kiss. Y/N was so exhausted, the last thing they remember was Risotto messing with the tripod before they passed out.

“This should send a strong message to him.”

————

Everyone has been on edge since Y/N went missing. Y/N was like another nurturing parent to the group. They were always stopping fights, or cooking food for them, helping them with hair, or just listening to their problems. Everyone felt an empty hole in their hearts without them.

Bucciaratis normally sun kissed tan skin had become as white as a sheet. His stomach was in his throat and his heartbeat was pounding in his head.

“This is so much worse than I thought.” He muttered while watching the ransom tape.

Give them Trish or leave Y/N to suffer? He had to think of a way to keep them both safe. He came out of his office his serious look on his face but looked like he just was haunted.

“Everyone listen up. We have a serious problem. We know where Y/N is and it’s not good.” He announced.

Everyone now more concerned than ever, never seen Bucciarati this upset. They knew they had a shit show on their hands and it was going to be so much more complicated than just protecting Trish.

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