Synopsis: A strange empusa erupts, leaving you and the Sparda twins covered in a strange pollen.
Warnings: Threesome, multiple creampies, breeding if you squint, PWP (but what's new here?), sex pollen, dub-con
Cleaning up leftover Qilphoth roots is not for the weak.
Well, it’s not for the mortal, anyway.
You had managed to wipe out a small horde of empusa, when suddenly, one of the larger red ones exploded.
Typically, this would be a non issue, the bigger ones drop those pretty gemstones Dante likes to collect and pawn off to whatever curio collector is in the market for the damn things. This time though, it explodes like an old mushroom. It’s full of red spores that smell oddly interesting, considering the origin of the lesser demons.
A sweet, decadent smell envelops you. Now out of the danger, you can’t help but turn over to Dante and Vergil. Dante likes to “cover your blindspots” as he puts it. Dante seems strange. Well stranger than usual, as he’s completely quiet. You look at Vergil and he seems just as tense as Dante, if not more.
The car ride back is awkward, Nico and Nero chat up front while you three sit in the back. Dante just seems more tired as he reads the latest issue of “slap and tickle”, Vergil is absently clapping his hands together, stretching out his knuckles until the leather of his gloves creaks under his use.
Nico drops the three of you off at Dante’s office, where you’ve been staying ever since a Qilphoth branch shot straight through your apartment (thanks, Vergil). Your nighttime routine goes as usual, where you shower and try to wash off whatever has been seeped into your pores. As soon as you step out of the bathroom, Vergil is there, almost staring you down like he wants you to explode.
“Vergil, you’re scaring them” Dante says, looking over the corner. “That was not my intention” Vergil says out loud, looking at you a bit softly and it makes your brow quirk up in confusion. Upon hearing his brother’s comment, Dante walks out from behind the wall where he was, you imagine, waiting like an excited cat to pounce at you. Unlike Vergil, Dante likes to be shirtless almost as soon as he comes home, and when he knows he won’t be bothered.
“Well, you know that thing- earlier? The one that uh-”
“Erupted” Vergil adds.
“Yeah! Exploded!” Dante concurs. Vergil scoffs.
“Have you noticed anything… different?” Dante asks, ignoring his brother.
“Different how?” You respond, crossing your arms, your sleep shirt clinging to your damp chest.
“Don’t make me beg” Dante whines.
You turn to Vergil, who seems just as disturbed as his brother for having to ask such a thing.
Well… what’s the harm?
------------------------
You’re pinned between the two brothers. Vergil’s well kept hair is long forgotten, and if it wasn’t for the clean jaw and the furrowed brow, you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.
Dante grabs your thighs by the handful, his nose pushing against the pulse in your neck. His stubbled chin brushes atop your skin, and he presses a soft kiss to that heartbeat in your blood. While Dante is outward in his affection, Vergil is a bit more hesitant.
Despite the fact he is currently balls deep inside of your pussy with his brother’s dick being his only company, Vergil Sparda is hesitant to kiss you.
Or, you think he wants to kiss you, it’s hard to really tell. His deep blue eyes just glare down at you, a frown etched on his face like he’s in pain. As you focus on Vergil, Dante grabs a handful of one of your tits and groans in your ear at the plush texture.
He takes one of your nipples and twirls it against his half-gloved hand. Warm fingertips and cold leather give you just enough of a boost to kiss Vergil. It’s slow, and shy, but you press your lips to his, catching just the slightest bit of teeth before he kisses you back, and you swear his skin heats up at least ten degrees. Suddenly his cock pulses, and you feel him stiffen.
Did he just-
“Fuck Verge! Gross!” Dante barks out, a sneer on his face as he stops fucking you, and moves his other hand back to behind your knee, to scold his brother. “You’ve already got a kid- couldn’t let me have something, just this once?” Vergil looks at his younger brother. “That is not how procreation works-” “You would know!”
Their bickering is endearing, but you’ve still got more Quilphoth pollen to deal with. While they argue, you slowly try to jerk your hips up, pushing against Dante’s chest and sliding up Vergil’s cock.
That shuts them up, almost shockingly fast.
“Sorry- I uh- what were we talking about?” Dante muses, suddenly very aware of the hot flesh against him. “I believe, you were going to finish your half of the job,” Vergil sneers, a protective grip on your calves as opposed to Dante, who’s holding you gently with his hands under your knees.
“Right-O, brother. Sorry about that sweetheart” Dante says, pressing a kiss to your temple, which makes Vergil scowl.
Despite the fact Vergil’s already come, he helps himself to fisting his length and burying his face in your breasts. Dante whispers an array of dirty things in your ear. You’re so caught up in pleasure that you only hear half of it.
“Look at her Verge’” He starts, still fucking you so hard you swear you might end up falling completely limp in his hold. “Think she misses you” Dante teases, hands flexing as he adjusts his grip between both of your knees.
Vergil looks up at you from his position, blue eyes peaking up. He looks so much different than what you knew, what you’ve seen.
Dante is greedily kissing up your neck, despite drawing your attention away from himself he cannot help but try to fight for your attention once again.
Bastard’s probably stroking his own ego.
A warm hand guides you away from Vergil, and instead he presses a kiss to your lips. Your eyes close against his mouth and Dante groans, his upper lip picking up just enough to let you feel the tip of his canine.
Vergil is quick to respond by sucking marks of deep purple along your sternum. His slender fingers make quick work of your core.
Vergil looks up at you again, eyes hungry and full of jealousy.
“Shiiit” Dante says, hand gripping your hip with a fidgeting twitch. “I can come inside right? Please baby, can I, can I?” He says hurriedly, burying his face in your neck, long hair dusting your collarbone.
You make an “Oh” shape with your mouth and nod your head as Vergil works to make you come in sync with his brother. However, he isn’t as fast as Dante.
Dante thrusts into your core with the speed of a jackrabbit and a string of curses flow from his lips. Vergil hisses at him to be quiet while his hands make work of you, mouth over your breast and teeth holding gently onto your nipple. His tongue moving in just the right ways.
Dante is still slowly rocking his hips in and out of you by the time you cum. Clit pounding in rhythm with Dante’s pulsing cock.
By the end of the ordeal, your hips are sore and Dante winces at a crack noise it makes as he sits you back down. The two of you chat nonchalantly as you get dressed.Vergil seems a bit out of it, buttoning his overshirt with his lips pursed. Then, by strange intuition, you grab his hand and his eyes glint to you, then away, then back to you multiple times before you rub your thumb over his knuckles gently.
Vergil opens his mouth to speak, but Dante sweeps you up again. “Let’s get you cleaned up, no offense but you smell too much like me for me to not get hard” Vergil scowls at his brother but follows behind nonetheless. A smile on his face as you peer over to him from Dante’s bare shoulder.
Synopsis: Nero's nervous about showing Kyrie his new arm, thankfully you've always been a big help.
Warnings: Cheating, reader is a bad friend, Nero is a bad boyfriend, cunnilingus, fingering, Credo has a crush on reader.
Kyrie has always been your best friend. She’s kind, doesn’t make fun of you or your interests. She’s always making sure you’re taken care of, bringing you “extra” food, clothes that miraculously appear when she stays over, and a boyfriend that makes his way between your legs every other time you meet.
Well, maybe she doesn’t intend for that last part.
However, Kyrie is always giving to you, so you figured you could give back to her. You’ve been on and off training her boyfriend, since before they were even together.
It started small. Whether it be writing Kyrie love notes for her lunches, or picking out meals for the couple to try for their dates. Then it led to Nero staying over, much to Credo’s disapproval. Kyrie didn’t seem to mind, not that she was completely aware of Nero’s whereabouts.
Nero, hair long and arm in a sling from whatever injury he sustained protecting Fortuna from demons. You were worried, but you were more pissed off at him than anything.
He looks at you, his usual smug behavior tucked behind a boyish grin as he awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “I just- I really want her to know how I feel but. It’s just different now”
“Different how?” You ask, lazily snacking on the food Nero brought as a peace offering
“Don’t freak out,” he says.
“You’re so dramatic” you chirp at him.
“I’m serious!” He blurts out at you.
“Okay, okay.” You say,pausing to look at him before continuing. “Show me”
He unwraps his cast, and you wince a bit at the sound of the material’s adhesive giving way to Nero’s bruised flesh.
Only it’s not bruised.
It’s demonic.
His arm, now blue and infernal, seems more like makeup than a part of him. At first all you can do is look, Nero seems reluctant to have shown you, and begins to wrap it back up before you stop him.
“Can I?” you ask.
Nero seems confused for a moment, and almost wants to ask “can you what?” but decides against it. “S-sure, yeah” he says, handing out his arm toward you to inspect.
Your touch is warm against him, it makes his stomach churn in a way that makes him feel embarrassed, like he’s thirteen again; pushing Credo around and trying to defend you from a pretend monster after morning mass.
Your touch pulls him out of it, dragging his hand. It’s warm, comfortingly so, and you absently bring it to your cheek. Without realizing, Nero cups your face with his demonic arm, and places his thumb across your lips.
You let his clawed finger enter mouth, for a moment you forget this is Kyrie’s boyfriend. You forget that you were supposed to be telling him it was fine for Kyrie to see him like this.
Instead, you moan against his hand, and Nero’s face flushes. His long hair swept behind his ears as he leans in to kiss you. He shouldn’t but- you’re so pretty, and so sweet.
In truth, if Credo hadn’t been so loud with his affections for you, Nero would have pursued you first. But, Credo isn’t here to fumble his words in response to your unabashed flirtation. So Nero, as if his arm has a mind of its own, lets his demonic arm trail to your chest.
His hands trail lower and lower and before you know it he’s knuckle deep in your pussy. Looking at you for approval, so afraid to hurt you but he can’t help but relish the way your hands find his hair and push him to your pussy.
His platinum hair curls against your thigh as you grab onto his free, human, arm. The signet of the order burning into your skin like a reminder of your own infidelity.
Nero licks a sloppy line up against your clit and you can't help but clamp against his face. His devil bringer had to have been clawing its way in and out of your slick pussy for longer than you’ve kept count.
The pressure just keeps building and building, and Nero keeps his mouth on you, eyes flicking up with a shade of blue you’ve never seen, and then you can’t help but let your release wash over you. Your legs clamp across his head and if this were any other situation he’d be genuinely afraid you’d snap his neck, but right now he can’t bring himself to care.
Nero lets you ride out your orgasm, tongue swirling along your cunt gently now, your gasps slowly dying down. Nero seems absolutely flushed, red in the face from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. A smug smile on his face that makes you want to throw a pillow at him, but instead you hold his face and give him a wet kiss across his mouth.
Nero grins even further and pushes you back against the covers, devil bringer already dancing across your thighs again. Well, Kyrie will get Nero at his most confident, that’s for sure.
“Easy darlin,” Nico coos at you, blowing smoke halfway out the window. Her lips curl up in a whistle as she finishes exhaling.
Nico’s hand finds your hip, her fingernails digging just slightly in your skin.
You groan slightly as she guides you up and down her length. The slightest bit of a smirk creeping up her face. You can’t help but slow your pace just a bit, a bit exhausted.
Nico sucks her teeth and you feel her shift underneath you, suddenly her faux cock starts to thump against you, almost pistoning in and out of you. You let out a gasp and Nico chuckles to herself, grabbing another cigarette from the box.
“Little somethin’ I cooked up for ya” she says, loosely holding the cig in her mouth as she goes to thumb circles across your clit.
Nero would be back in just a few minutes, Red Grave has been getting more and more easier to clean up after the Qliphoth had disappeared.
Nico grabs hold of your hips, clamping you down on her, you feel the cock that’s strapped to her hips thumping against your core, bumping your cervix as she traps you down onto her.
Her glasses are fogged up, but she’s still grinning at you.
Then the phone rings.
She moves one hand from your hip to grab her cigarette, and she blows smoke out of the window. She then places the cigarette in your mouth.
“Hold that for me, would you?” She says, reaching for the phone. “Devil May cu- cry” She snorts, her free hand still rubbing circles on your clit. This time going even faster. It’s almost like she wants Nero to hear you.
You inhale and almost choke from her selected brand. Nico smokes the cheapest, nastiest cigarettes you can imagine. The menthol creeps up your throat like a lick of wasabi. As you breathe out, Nico lets out a “uh huh- be there in five” as the nicotine starts to relax your nerves just a bit.
The phone hangs up, Nico thrusts her hips up against that deep spot in your core, you can't help but moan as the breath leaves you and the cigarette hangs stickily on your lower lip.
She takes the smoke from you and snuffs it out in the ashtray. Then she jacks her core into yours, her belt buckle cold against your clit. Then the cock inside you starts to vibrate.
“Nico,” You whine out, reaching for her chest, for something to hold on to.
“I’ve got you” She says, fully focused on you now. Both hands are back on your hips, Nico leans her head back and her flyaway strands of hair stick to her cheekbones.
“Gee up, darlin” Nicoletta flicks her head upwards to you, then her hips start to meet yours.
It’s messy at first, Nico’s pace is sloppy as she tries to outpace the very machine she made so she wouldn’t have to. But Nico loves a challenge.
Her dry lips, now slick with spit from her drooling on herself, find the spot just behind your ear.
She sucks a mark of deep purple onto you, something that Nero will reprimand you for if he sees it.
But when your wife starts fucking you so good you can hardly think straight, you can’t help but gush all over her legs. Her shorts now soaked as your cunt throbs under constant stimulation.
Nico’s cum slicked thighs do little to stop her, and instead her fingers find your clit and her thumb brushes against you in just the right way. The vibrations of the machine fucking you, Nico’s hands on you, her smoky eyes looking up at you in pure ecstasy and the ring on your finger catching the glare of her glasses just enough to make her left eye squint, it’s all so much.
Then, with a growl and a harsh grip on the leather seat, your legs lock around Nico’s and you cum. Then Nico only chuckles under her breath, suddenly the machine slows, and instead you feel a warm gush of… something.
A bit shocked you hop off of her, still resting on her legs, ass touching the edges of her knees as you look at the mess of fake cum she pumped into you.
“Sorry, couldn’t help myself” she says, pulling your pussy apart with her tattooed hand, her matching wedding band, that is actually silicone so she doesn't lose a finger, is now inverted from its usual side.
The hot and thick faux cum puddles in between her legs and you wince at the stain it’ll likely cause. Nico only stares with that proud grin on her face. “It’s a work of art” she chides, kissing your neck, just beneath the spot where she left a mark.
“I’ll let you clean up before we get soldier boy, or we can ride dirty. Your call honey” she says as you climb off of her, hamstrings shaking like old springs. You snort and wave her off, she puts the truck into gear.
Authors note: this fic is heavily inspired by this masterpiece, if you enjoyed this work, you will absolutely love the one above.
Nero cannot believe he let you do this.
It started with a sly joke, with you nudging Kyrie on the side. You mumbled something about how he always gets princess treatment from Dante. Which is why he never has a scratch on him when you’re raiding her cupboard for antiseptic.
“Princess-? The hell are you on about?” He grumbled from the front seat, looking over his shoulder while Nico snickers from his side. It shouldn’t have bothered him- it didn’t bother him. It was just, you could’ve said prince, it was a more fitting term. Right?
When the two of you retired to your shared apartment in Fortuna, Nero stared up at the ceiling while you finished brushing your teeth. Maybe ‘princess’ didn’t bother him, but the way you calling him that made him feel definitely did.
He physically jumps when you curl up next to him, causing you to cock an eyebrow at him.
“You okay?” you say, the sweetest, most genuine concern etched on your face.
Shit.
“I- uh, yeah. ‘M good” Nero stutters out, rather unconvincingly. You stare at him for a moment and he breaks almost immediately.
“When you called me that earlier- I dunno I just got a little.. Flustered? Is that the right word?”
He states, gathering his thoughts as he speaks. “Flustered?” you reply.
“I dunno, I guess I liked you calling me that.” Nero says, ears tipped pink as he refuses to look at you.
“Oh?” you respond, with an evil amount of interest.
Now Nero has a fruity lipgloss painting his pink, pouty lips. He’s completely shirtless while you straddle his chest in your nightgown, makeup brush in hand. He can’t lie how absolutely turned on he is. If you shifted just a bit below him, you’d definitely feel how hard he’s gotten in the short time you’ve started doing his makeup. Slowly you smudge your thumb under his eye, the liner caking beneath your finger. “There we go, my pretty girl” you say, your voice sultry and Nero takes an awkward swallow.
He can feel how warm his face is underneath your gaze, and slowly he turns away. You peel off of him and lift your nightdress from over your stomach. Nero can’t help but sneak glances.
“We’re all girls here, you can take a peak” you say, he almost cums on the spot.
Then your mouth is on his, smudging the tinted lipgloss against his face, you look so beautiful and you smell so good. Your lips kiss down along his collar, then lower more.
You end up just between his legs. It starts slow, like you’re testing the waters. Then your tongue starts to get adventurous, and Nero freezes.
You lick a gentle stripe from his balls to his ass, and he jerks his hips towards your face. Eyes lidded as he awaits your next move.
Then you slowly delve back below him, your nose pushing against his balls as your tongue makes a wet puddle of spit below your jaw.
Nero lets out moans he wasn’t fully aware he was releasing, and then he feels the pressure of a finger at his entrance. Then it’s like his whole world flips inside out. The pleasure builds up in his stomach, a perfect amount of sting but you’re going just slow enough he wants to shove his ass in your face until you speed up, it feels like he’s about to- oh shit oh god ohfuck-
Nero cums, hard. All over himself, he paints his abdomen with thin, shimmery layers of cum that trails down his muscles and over his hip bones.
He looks at you, mouth opened as he breathes to himself. You’re still below him, tongue darting out just past your lips to touch the tightest part of his hole. He winces as you begin to pump into him again, just one finger feels like way more than he can handle. You watch as his face shifts into something in between pain and pleasure.
“N-no babe, I didn’t mean to” he whines as your finger starts fucking back into his tight hole, cock still thumping triumphantly against his stomach.
“It’s okay, pretty girl, you didn’t mean to” you whisper out, looking over the hand cut figure in front of you, like he’s something next to godhood. Nero’s eyes flash with some yellow when you call him “pretty girl” and it eggs you on even further.
“F-fuuuuuck” he whines out, burying his head into the pillows behind him, his neck craning as you continue to lick and finger him. His leg starts to twitch against you, before long he’s half fighting his devil trigger and half trying not to crush your skull between his muscled thighs.
Despite how hard he’s trying to fight this off, you simply have this cheshire grin on your face.
He almost doesn’t hear your next comment, halfway between bliss and agitated overstimulation by the time you speak again. But he feels the vibration in your voice.
“Gonna come for me again, princess?”
Nero’s legs clamp around your head, he lifts his thighs up and unintentionally your fingers slip out of his well lubricated ass. You watch as his hips buck into nothing, and his cock pulses wildly into the air. Thumping in rate of his pulse as he cums all over himself once again.
He’s breathing erratically as he tries to recuperate. His eyes search for you in between breaths and he almost wants to cry when he sees that same, evil smile on your face.
Synopsis: Shortly after Nero and V depart and Dante falls in battle. You’re left alone with Urizen, the powerful demon king hell bent on destroying you. Maybe in ways you didn’t expect
Warnings: Dub-con, monsterfucking, stomach bulge, cum stuffing, no aftercare.
He seemed indifferent to when you attempted to fight him. Even as Dante activated his devil trigger, and you watched as his demonic skin shattered like glass. Dante was thrown across the makeshift battleground where the Qilphoth had split.
Suddenly Urizen had grabbed you, hand over your waist gliding you across where his cock had unearthed itself from his armor. Glowing, hot, and with an iced touch. You couldn’t bear to watch the way your stomach expanded from him using you, but you felt it. Never in your life had you felt so full.
He was kind enough to not push his cock all the way into you, but even just one quarter of him was already too much. Your hands pushed on your stomach, in some meek attempt to prevent him from assaulting you any further. Not that you got very far.
However, Urizen seemed to take notice of this. In a brief act of mercy, a clawed finger brushes against your face. Almost as soon as he does so, his entire hand grabs your torso as he begins to fuck into you.
You swear you hear something crack, and you can’t help the moan that finally escapes your lips.
The sounds you’ve been holding back for so long, trying to maintain what little dignity you had left.
This… Pleases Urizen, you think.
Your guts are being rearranged and with every sticky thrust you fear your body can’t keep up with what little lubrication you have.
Suddenly something drips hot against your ass, melting down like warm syrup. While your limbs are dangling, you look over your shoulder and see it.
The almighty Urizen is drooling.
You can hardly make out his eyes underneath all of the armor and distorted roots that cascade his form, but you can practically feel his gaze on your hole. His mouth is agape, fangs on full display as well as his arctic blue tongue poking out over his maw.
You clench your mouth shut at the sight.
Somewhere behind all the lust and fire in your groin your conscience is screaming at you. You can’t help but look over at Trish and Lady’s bodies as they get carried away by lesser demons they could’ve easily killed. Guilt begins to pang in your chest as you think about Dante.
Suddenly you feel Urizen speak, a deep and baritone rumble that shakes you so hard you feel it buzz all the way to your core and you shudder.
“Why do you falter, mortal?” He says.
“Fuck you” you say, unconvincing.
Then he has the gall to chuckle at you, teeth shifting together in a mechanical way as his mouth closes. Then he shuts his eyes for a brief moment, as if in thought, and you watch as the orange flames that take the place of his eyes light up.
Suddenly he grips you hard, his taloned hands squeezing you like a stress ball, and before you even have time to brace yourself he starts jackhammering you on his cock. He’s going to kill you like this. Your back is against his barked thumb, and you look up and see the contempt on his face as he does so. Then he pushes a bit too far and you feel something stretch that shouldn’t have. You cry against his fingers, all previous anger gone and replaced only by agony.
He chuffs a bit at your misery, you feel his inhale like a balloon in your stomach.
But he doesn’t stop.
As quick as his thrusts, the pain ebbs away into pure bliss. You look down and watch as his cock stretches you so full you begin to see it reach your ribs. You place your dangling arms on your stomach to try and embrace his cock from the outside.
You feel the buzz of his sigh and he says “There you go” with encouragement, tongue now peaking out past his lips again. This time hanging from the side like bitch in heat. You feel so deliciously full of him, every little indentation making a permanent mark on your body.
You pull your legs up to hug yourself closer and you feel a new tightness that stretches you like elastic against him. It stings in the best way as he continues to use your body like a fleshlight against his cock.
You adjust only a little in his grip, his hand tightening as you writhe against him. Then he begins to force you against his cock even faster, it’s a subtle shift in speed, but your frame is tiny compared to his and your entire body is a walking chafe aside from where he was generous enough to spit.
Then you feel it, bubbling up like a volcano in his groin. You look at him with complete and utter fear in your eyes. Head snapping against his grip, barely able to do so if not for the sweat on your face. He just smiles at you with all of those sharp teeth, each one glinting at you and you realize he’s going to take you completely. Not just by fucking your body for all it’s worth, and even then some. But your mind as well, you’re going to become possessed by this demon whether you like it or not.
When Urizen cums, it’s not one shot, no. It’s five bursts of hot, thick, cum and it burns your insides like pure acid. You’re overflowing by the first shot and even though he slides you up enough to just take the tip, you feel it spread from your stomach all the way up to your fucking nose. If you had a look at your reflection you’d bet you looked like a bloated fuck doll. Instead, as you are literally dripping demonic cum like whipped cream down your legs, and in turn all over Urizen’s cock, he merely scoffs at you; like he expected better.
When he’s finished cumming into your already overfilled hole, he grabs you gently enough so you don't spill more than necessary and places you on the ground. You’re so full that just moving against the ground causes cum to flow out of you. He lazily waves his hand and some sort of spell dances over you.
“Go on, back to your demon hunters. We’ll meet again” before you can respond, he flicks a finger and sends you on your way. Scampering down the Qilphoth in ripped clothes, a stomach full of demon cum, and an unusual pep in your step as you rush to make contact with V and Nero.
Despite the horror on Nero’s face, you swear to god V cracks just a bit of a smile.
Synopsis: V is always reckless in the field, maybe someone should put him in his place.
Warnings: Sub!V, Dom/Submissive Dynamics, Cock milking, Cum facial, snowballing
Something you never expected when working for Devil May Cry was that you’d have your boyfriend a sobbing, whimpering, mess.
It had been a long fucking day. Griffon was cawing insults at you, V was fighting your battles for you, and Dante would not shut up-. Nonetheless you and V were equally exhausted and mentally drained. However, you were a bit- okay, a lot pissed- that he was putting himself in danger to fight your “designated” half of the field. According to V, you were “The love of his life, it was nothing” until a pair of Death Scissors tried to snip him from the waist up.
So, after a long day of work, you decided to punish him for endangering himself at your expense. V, of course, agreed.
His cock is swollen and red at the tip, salty and sticky precum leaking from him.
V is bound beneath you, completely bare against you and your skin.
“P- Please, my love” he whines, red tip glistening under your touch. “No, my sweet V, you were too dangerous today” you say, hands moving oh so slowly against his cock. “Only to protect you” he whimpers against your mouth, plump lips brushing against yours as he breathes heavily though his mouth.
Dissatisfied with his answer, you pull your hand away. V throws his head back, black hair dusting over his nose as he hits the headboard. Not so much as a reaction to the pain of hitting pure mahogany but instead he groans out angrily as his cock pulses from the lack of contact.
Your poor little poet. He was so close.
V starts to throw a bit of a tantrum under your touch, or lack thereof. You watch as his hair starts to turn white, just a bit of defiance in his eyes as he fights against his bindings. You grab him by his chin from where you’re straddling him, and just before he can get too hopeful, spit on his face. Immediately his hair is back to jet black and he seems almost a bit startled, before he melts back into the sweet submissive man you know he’s always been.
“Please” he whispers out, eyes lidded and gorgeous lips in a pout. He cannot bear to look at you,too much embarrassment from how he’s pathetically fucking the air. You don’t miss how his soft, pink tongue reaches out to catch your spit before it drops down completely to his chest.
His chest heaves, pecs rising and falling quickly with anticipation you don’t even see during the toughest of battles. No, this is an adrenaline reserved only for you. Hidden under the lock and key of your touch and your whispers of sin.
You wiggle up closer to him, slick pussy rubbing against his thigh as you slide your way closer to him. “There, was that so hard?” you say.
Your hand is back on his dick in an instant. Gliding up, down, up, down, up, and down. V cries out loud, teeth bearing as he closes his eyes.
“Love- Love I’m close” he mutters, still such a good boy, even as he’s about to cum.
“Open wide” You say, a malicious grin etched all over your face.
“Huh-?” he says, not quite understanding, between your hand thumping angrily on his cock and the ringing in his ears, he genuinely isn’t quite sure.
Not stopping your pace, you move forward just a bit more, and put your hand on his cheek. He opens his mouth for your fingers to slide in without even thinking twice, then you pry his mouth open and he becomes violently aware.
He manages to whimper out a huff that sounds like “please” and a “no” but you keep jerking his cock, watching how the skin slides back and forth. The ink really does go all the way down.
His hips are following your hand desperately, almost fucking the ‘O’ shaped ring you have on his cock.
His pace quickens and he starts to drool along your hand and the only form of communication he has left is the flick of his eyes, lidded and dilated as he seems to plead with you. “Please, don’t humiliate me so” they say.
Fuck that.
You keep going until not even three seconds later V lets out a cry against your fingers, teeth clenching down just a bit. Before his cock cums and you watch as his watery cum shoots along his tongue, nose, and chin.
You watch in amazement for a moment at the sight. The beautiful, milky white cum painting his lips as he gasps for air. Followed by him eagerly trying to catch his release with his mouth, desperate to please you.
You keep rubbing your hand against his length and he keeps coming, his hips fucking against your hand and you decide to take your hand out of his mouth and start double fisting his cock. He becomes a puddle of cum and tears, but his mouth clamps shut, not wanting to lose any of your precious treasure.
You watch as his cock twitches, spent and overstimulated. Then you give some gentle rubs and sit up to kiss his cum stained lips. V sighs into your kiss and opens his mouth for you to taste him. His spit is sweet and cool, and his cum hot on your tongue. V kisses you greedily enough to take away the taste.
You pull away and a string connects you both.
You undo his bindings and watch his shoulders slump, when you come back to face him, V stares you deeply in the eyes. Nothing but pure adoration. “Thank you” he mutters, winded and a bit amazed.
“Anytime” you say, hopping off of him to lay next to him, V’s eyes follow you the whole time.
His inked fingers dance up your form, pausing by your naked thigh to allow you to spread yourself to him.
“Please, allow me to assist” he mutters, shifting himself into a position below you with a grin on his face.
Synopsis: Dante always says he’s great at gambling, because every loss is a win in his books.
Warnings: Monsterfucking, Bondage, Pussy Eating
Dante fucking sucks at poker. It is a fact, just like how he hates olives on his pizza and Nico smokes enough to warrant her own brand. Even before you could play poker, Dante was losing to you. Now that you’re together, you want to say it’s his way of flirting because with everyone else he’s a cheat, but a shitty liar. So, after you had finally caught up on the bills for the month, you and Dante decided to play a game of strip poker. The winner takes all.
It takes about three rounds before Dante is completely nude.
“Do you ever chafe under all that nothing?” you ask, genuinely concerned for the well-being of his, and by association, yours. He just grins smugly.
It’s a shame. You had even gone as far to put on a new set of lingerie underneath everything.
“C’mon babe, breaking my heart over here. I already lost. Maybe you can make me feel like a winner?” Dante says, spreading his bare legs under the table and leaning back.
You make a mental note to wipe it down when you’re done and you walk over.
Dante is quick to touch you, you glance down and he’s rock hard. His hands dance around the hem of your shirt. Unlike with others, Dante always plays nice with you, only you.
You lift up your shirt for him, and reveal the outfit underneath. His favorite shade of red, and you hear him before you see him.
He chokes and within an instant he’s in his devil trigger. He genuinely doesn’t seem to notice until you laugh a bit at him. His cheeks are a deep orange, mimicking a blush the best way a demon can. “Shit- sorry I uh- got distracted” he says, blinking a few times to try and focus.
You watch as a very flustered Dante tries to get himself out of his devil trigger. Instead of helping, you lose your other boot and drop your pants. Stepping out of them, you reveal a matching piece of underwear.
“Fuck- sweetheart, sorry I don’t think I’m going anywhere” he mutters, a bit embarrassed, but he can’t help but stare at your crotch with a hungry gaze.
“That’s okay” you say, pushing his chair back and sitting up on the desk. You then look over at the various drawers and pull open the first one. Within reveals a leather harness you got as a souvenir from Vie de Marli that you forgot about after, well, everything.
Dante remains seated, but his eyes flick to where your hand is and he tuts as much of a grin as he can through his demonic form.
Moments later you’ve got Dante tied up to your pussy like a tethered mount. His demon tongue is a lot longer than his human one, and you feel as the hot tip of it slurps against your pussy. His horns separate your legs and you’re tied snugly to his face. Fire is on his breath as he exhales against your skin.
The rumble in his throat is vibrating against you as his tongue fucks against you for all it’s worth. A constant circular motion that wraps around and around like a spring until you snap.
Your legs tighten against his face and wrestle him closer to your pussy like fighting a wild ram, his horns following the shake of your legs, but not departing once.
You feel the spikes that highlight his chin dig against your ass, Dante only huffs hotly and pushes his face deeper into you. What makes up his nose is rubbing against your clit crudely.
You look between your legs and for just a second you relish how your legs cascade over the “V” shape of his demonic armor. The spines on his forehead bump against your mons. His hands are wrapped around your thighs protectively. The soft fiery glow of them travels up to his elbow and he holds you firmly in place, just in case the leather snaps against him.
He wraps his tongue around the walnut textured flesh inside you and keeps thump, thump, thumping at it until you gush against his face. He’s so close it’s hard to completely finish before he pushes your thighs away just a bit so you can properly squirt on his face.
Pervert’s basking in it.
Your hamstrings are begging for a break, and you begin to speak up before Dante’s eyes flit up to you, he opens his mouth. As he speaks, your cum steams up on his face.
“Demons don’t need to breathe sweetheart” before he delves back into your overstimulated core, ready to rake in his winnings.
WARNINGS: this has literal cannibalism in it, please do not read if you don’t yearn with your mouth. PIV sex, creampie, oral sex (reader receiving), mention of birth control.
A cold gust of wind brushes against your bare leg. The skin ripples slowly, like your body isnt used to being put in a situation where it has to heat itself and has since forgotten basic function. However if your body had decided to ignore you, you couldn’t quite tell because your mind was beyond comparison in terms of being vacant.
You received a phone call from Jack’s mother, informing you of your friend’s death across the sea. Her voice trembled and she practically sobbed as she told you of how horrible of a condition he was in and how David was a suspect in his murder. You should’ve been sad, but all you felt was disbelief; like you expected Jack to start laughing on the other end of the line before asking if you’d like to grab dinner with him (and David, of course, always David). You wish you cried, that you joined his mother in her quivering voice and choked sobs; instead, all you could do was think of how little of this she would share if she wasn’t so deeply disturbed and upset.
You went to Jack’s funeral, and discovered early on that you’d be waiting awhile to actually see him because everyone else who hadn’t given a shit in the past years decided to make up for it today. One of his exes showed up with her new boyfriend but started sobbing violently as she began to give a loud speech about how good of a man he was. As she spoke, you imagined Jack rolling over in his grave; or at this point, coffin; at her tears. “Wasn’t good enough for you to keep your pants on when Mark showed up!” You imagined him saying.
What stood out the most was the fact his casket was closed. Which only solidified your denial in Jack’s death. How out of place you seemed, staring down at the chiseled oak with a glare like you were expecting him to pop out and scare you like he did at a Halloween party years prior. Something even more ghastly was that you didn’t even think there was a body in there.
Weeks later you still hadn’t accepted that he died. You still consoled his mother and spoke with her often, you weren’t a complete lamb. David had yet to call, he was probably suffering a lot more than you were with your apathy or he was still comatose.
Once again the wind started to blow on through again and it finally caused you to shiver and begrudgingly trod to the window. As you neared, you heard the undeniable whisper of the leaves as they rustled and gently tapped the sides of the house. The outside was hardly visible, illuminated by the full moon and it left a cascading deep blue over the rest of the world.
You stared outside for a moment longer, letting the cool air curl around you and leave gooseflesh with every kiss upon your skin. The moonlight seems to bless you every moment you sit in its presence, the soft light bears white brightness among the clouds and entrances you in a way it never has before.
“Long time no see” a voice rings out from behind you.
Now you understand why.
As you turn around, there stands Jack Goodman in (what's left of) the flesh and before you can even think of it, you’re loudly exclaiming “Jesus Christ!” Before scurrying to your bed and balling up the covers as you try to shun away whatever you’re seeing by covering your eyes. “No, Jack, remember? God have you gone completely off your rocker since you’ve last seen me?”
You don’t dare remove the covers from your eyes, and you don’t have to. The springs of your mattress ache with weight and a gentle hand pulls it back. The fright sets a warm fire deep in your stomach.
Nonetheless, there he is, Jack Goodman. One of your best friends, completely mauled and looking at you with a smile as the grotesque chunks of flesh that's covered in a deep cherry red glisten under the light. In a macabre way, it makes your mouth water.
Jack looks at you for a moment before waving his hand in front of your face and snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. “You there? Oh god, you’re in shock; David’s gonna kill me again” he snickers at his own awful joke.
As you come back to earth, Jack gives you the rundown of what’s happened so far. While he speaks, you focus on what he’s wearing. The green puffer jacket that had been doused in your scent the night before because Jack “forgot you used it as a pillow case”; that statement is another one David did not buy and consistently gave him shit for the chick repellent as they rode on the back of a shepherd's truck.
“How I ended up back here, I’m not sure, not that I’m complaining about being in these sheets again” he flirts as he smiles at you, deep and round eyes looking directly into yours with something raw behind it all the pleasantry. You and Jack had slept together, he was as sweet as a friend with benefits could be.
“I think I’m going crazy” you say aloud and he titters before propping his leg up on your bed and resting his head on it sideways; leaving the bloody, mangled, and mutilated part of his skin open and hot against the air.
Jack catches your gaze and seems unable to resist the comment that comes from his mouth. “No fucking way” he laughs. You back yourself up against the headboard and pull your comforter with you, holding it defensively to your mouth and you give a startled look that quickly turns to anger. “What?” You snap out, a lot higher pitched than you wanted to, that made you sound more like someone caught with a porno mag and less like you were genuinely confused.
The look he gives you is a recognizable one, but it feels so alien at the same time. He starts to gently crawl towards you on all fours, in a way he knows you like to see. Feigning that innocence to how you feel just to hear you say it out loud because he mocks you even in death.
“Now, you wouldn’t be feeling a little turned on about how battered I am now would you, sweetness?” He asks, as irreproachable as possible while the pet name sticks to you despite how mockingly he says it. When you’re left gawking, he only gets closer to your face. “Because” pause. He drags one hand up across your covered leg. “If this was the face you wanted all along, I would’ve requested open casket”
Jack gets scarily close. So much so you can now make out minute details. His hair is slicked stiff with blood and sweat, black tufts of hair poke out messily. He smells of grass and mud, but only faintly; what stands out the most is the pheromones reeking off of him that would typically reek, but currently have you biting the inner skin of your bottom lip as the fingers of his left hand dance curiously across your knee.
His fingers have blood crusted under the nails and you sit there entranced by the carnal beauty of it all. Jack smiles to himself and takes it as an opportunity to trace your lips with his calloused fingers. Typically, he’d be a blushing mess and if he were still completely alive he’d never be so bold with someone.
Only difference this time is that he wasn’t alive, not fully; and that it was you. The amount of times he’d been almost caught with you on him has surpassed his count, and sure as hell yours. However the word almost really means David and when it comes to David, he’s got an amateur sleuth mindset and can unfortunately piece two and two together.
Unthinking, you open your mouth and feel as Jack pushes his index and middle finger over your tongue. Your tongue swirls around the pads of his fingers, feeling every ridge, scar and delta. A gummy clot of blood that was caught in the corner of his cuticle touches your tongue and you suck even harder.
Jack’s eyes become lidded, he looks at a random spot in your direction for a few moments, feeling the work of your mouth against his hands once again and in such a grisly manner makes his stomach burn.
Softly he pulls his fingers away from your mouth. He rests his hands on either side of you and puts his mouth close to your ear. “How about you shut the light off and we try that thing you’ll deny wanting to do” he whispers before he bites and tugs on the lobe of your ear before pulling away.
You push the blanket off of you, the plush of your thighs visible to Jack as you walk towards the light switch.
When the darkness floods the room, you’re left in wait for Jack, just as you were in life. When nothing happens for a few seconds you think you’ve gone crazy and you’re too afraid to turn around and see that he’s really not there.
The beautiful blue hue of the moon sets over your shoulders and the cool air brushes against your neck. The hairs prick up as the cool feeling leaves ghosts of kisses against your skin.
“Still here” Jack says quietly against the shell of your ear. You turn around to face him and he flicks the light on again, temporarily blinding you. “ M’ sorry” he says as his kisses become full and wet mouthed against your neck “changed my mind, jus’ wanted to see you walk away”
He buries himself there and you feel him smile before his teeth graze against you. The blood gushing from his wounds starts to slick your neck. This doesn’t stop him, he kisses and nips harshly on your veins and feels the pulse thrumming beneath it.
It’s like he can’t control himself. There’s something so deeply carnal and vulnerable about how he is now; as many times you’ve put yourself on him, nothing can compare to the sweetness of his blood covered lips against yours.
His teeth are digging deeply into your neck, a small pain blossoming from his teeth nipping at your skin. Your eyes shut and a breathy exhale leaves your lips. Jack smiles, like he always has, into your skin and comes up to give you a kiss. The sweet and metallic taste of his lips on yours leaves you utterly intoxicated like the first taste of absinthe.
If you had to compare it though, he’s much sweeter. And warmer. So much warmer.
Jack’s mouth has suddenly gone away from the short and innocent kisses and have transformed into heavily pressed attacks scattered across anywhere collar up. His skin is comfortingly thermic and at this point you have no choice but to fall back into the dizzying heat as Jack touches you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and it may very well be.
His hands are ever moving and constant. There’s a searing palm resting between your neck and ear. The free hand wanders continuously over your waist to the back of your thigh. Your hands move without your own permission and begin to unzip the green puffer jacket that’s half shredded and half covered in blood.
You hope that if he decides to leave, you can keep the jacket. Even just a piece to remember him by. It was a group purchase around the holidays one year, when David gifted you both an identical jacket similar to his red one. Yours was an absolute eyesore, but the mundane routine of wearing it all the time made the shade entirely your own.
You gently push Jack away from you and get to look in his eyes. You get to see the humanity tucked behind them as his clouded lust quickly turns into the sheepish look of a boy scolded by a schoolmarm. Even though you’re still entranced by just seeing him again after having to say goodbye before Europe and a second time to a piece of wood. Part of you wants to remain this illusioned forever, so that you can hold onto him even if he decided long ago to let go of you; because at this point all you have is a hideous puffer jacket and dinner receipts of a meal you paid for stuffed in your otherwise empty wallet. Suddenly the doe eyes and boyish smile disappear. A misstep.
“Guess kissing a corpse wasn’t on your bucket list, huh?” He chides with an awkward laugh but you know Jack better than that, and he’s being vulnerable. Pressed against the door of your room, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck; careful to leave the wound be, and as he looks at you; you knock your foreheads together and you press a small kiss to his lips and bump noses. “Could’ve gone for that one actor you like so much” you say, another kiss. “I’ll put in a good word for you” kiss.
Jack pushes his mouth closer to you without much thought, and it leads to some of the blood on his neck smearing on your arm. Suddenly the blaze in Jack’s eyes comes back and you grin.
Jack sticks his hand in the wound like it’s as normal as scratching an itch and a small amount of the blood comes onto his fingertip. He cups your face with the same hand, mindful of his bloody thumb. Your eyes dart between the pad of his thumb, that Jack pushes ever closer to your mouth; only waiting for permission to push it through.
There would be no coming back from it and you both know it. Jack has nothing to lose, while you’re teetering on the line between sanity and lunacy. The comparison of Eve and the apple comes to mind; any other lustful sin could be forgiven, but to feast upon the flesh and to consume the marrow of a ghost? Should this be a test from whatever divine figure that hates you enough to manifest your dead fuck buddy, you were bound for damnation surely. Your lips part.
Your mouth sours with saliva before you can truly taste. Then it hits you. The succulent, metallic taste sinks onto your tastebuds and you hope that Jack’s blood remains there until the end of your days. The splotch of scarlet forever stained on your tongue like ink upon papyrus so that any lover you may take after Jack knows they can’t compare because they won’t come this close.
You flick the light out, for good this time, and guide Jack to your bed. He waits patiently as you crawl in first. He waits by the edge with bated breath and glances at the full moon for but a moment. You poke your leg out over the bed and poke him with your foot and he pounces at you. The shirt that was tucked underneath his puffer coat has minimal damage compared to the rest of him. You sit up and drag it off of him and he instead goes for ripping the fabric off like it’s burning him.
You’re doing the same to your own and Jack is immediately kissing on every inch of your skin, there's a desperation that is unlike anything you’ve ever known. After you’ve both wriggled out of every piece of clothing and left slobbering wet kisses across chests and lips you start to get to the most sinful and carnivorous part of the night.
Jack’s pumping himself and whimpering all sorts of filth at you as you kiss around the lines where skin meets meat. “Please, honey, I want you to, I do, c’mon” Just one bite. He needs it, he needs to know he’s good. “You can’t hurt me” he whispers, strained.
Your teeth graze the saccharine flesh before you sink into the hot and dewey meat. Jack’s warmed up intensely, the heat rolling off of him in the moonlight in thick clouds of white. Jack shudders and you begin to let go immediately “Fuck, no, keep going” he says, lowering his neck on you more as his fingers begin to grace around you.
When you fully sink in again, there’s a burst of an unfamiliar flavor that hits you so hard you hope it doesn’t immediately get you hooked and desperate like morphine. You pull and tear and suck upon him but it doesn’t change anything. The difference between the living and the undead is that while you’re aching and getting the relief of Jack’s feast upon your body, wether it be by biting or pumping into your core, Jack is unchanging until time wants him to. You’re glad you were blessed enough to have him presented as you remembered, just a bit more banged up. Deliciously so.
You’re happy you can be close to him again, like this. Nothing else in the world but the two of you. For however long he’s tied to this plane, you want to take advantage of it all and you will greedily keep him here until he’s forced to go. So you bite, you bite and rip and chew like it’s the last way you’ll ever love anyone ever again. You wrap your hands into his hair and dig your nails into his scalp and all he does is smile at you and whisper your name he keeps his pace thrusting inside of you. When you pull away to meet his eyes, the glint of the night rests in his irises.
You imagine you must look like something positively cryptid. His blood smothered across your mouth, a toothy smile in his direction like a fox in a henhouse. He doesn’t say anything, he merely places a kiss on your mouth and breathes heavily across your lips. “ M’ close, honey” he says, as thoughtful as ever, and that’s how you know this has to be real; previous thoughts be damned, werewolves, ghosts, lawyers? All real.
You know this Jack Goodman is yours because even after being mauled to death and abandoned, after having to tell his best friend that he has to die, and after finding himself in your bed again and being accepted with open arms, he still tells you when he’s about to cum.
“I’ll take it as a bereavement gift” you say and he simply rolls his eyes and says “you talk too much” you tug at his pulled apart skin again before falling back into the sheets. Biting your lip and wrapping your legs around his core, you hold Jack’s head as he buries it in your neck and presses his forehead in the nape of your shoulder to watch himself go in and out for a few strokes before he pulls back and kisses you hard. You don’t open your mouth quick enough and your teeth collide painfully for a second and Jack giggles an apology against your lips as he continues his thrusts.
He pushes you back into the pillows with his weight and he moans into your shoulder. The perfect cadence of sound in your ears and after he stills for a moment you can feel the pulse of his cock inside you as he cums.
Ever the overachiever, he pulls out quickly and places his bloodied mouth in between your legs. The blood of his neck laceration rubs slick and loud against your thigh coating every pore and marking.
He puts his mouth on your clit, just like you taught him. He twirls his tongue around and even tries murmuring out something to dirty talk you, but he gets so pussy drunk it’s nearly impossible to hear what he’s saying.
He takes care not to get a mouthful of his own cum, his fingers going at a pace that you can hear even buried in the pillows.
Once again your hands find his hair and you push him deeper into your clit and Jack, always the good boy, obliges and tongue fucks you even harder.
Your legs lock around his head as you cum and he lets out a hum as you do. Your hips snap forward and he rides it out. Once you’ve come down a bit, he presses a few kisses to your thighs before going up to join you.
“Hope birth control covers that”
“Be more surprised if it did, I think”
Jack snickers and lays next to you, fingers trailing up your figure with blankets gathered unevenly around the waist down.
He’s still a human furnace and you eagerly curl up next to him. “Will you be gone tomorrow?” You ask. You expect a melancholy response. “Might go tell David to kill himself, but I’ll be back. Can’t guarantee I’ll be this pretty though” he says.
WARNINGS: this has literal cannibalism in it, please do not read if you don’t yearn with your mouth. PIV sex, creampie, oral sex (reader receiving), mention of birth control.
A cold gust of wind brushes against your bare leg. The skin ripples slowly, like your body isnt used to being put in a situation where it has to heat itself and has since forgotten basic function. However if your body had decided to ignore you, you couldn’t quite tell because your mind was beyond comparison in terms of being vacant.
You received a phone call from Jack’s mother, informing you of your friend’s death across the sea. Her voice trembled and she practically sobbed as she told you of how horrible of a condition he was in and how David was a suspect in his murder. You should’ve been sad, but all you felt was disbelief; like you expected Jack to start laughing on the other end of the line before asking if you’d like to grab dinner with him (and David, of course, always David). You wish you cried, that you joined his mother in her quivering voice and choked sobs; instead, all you could do was think of how little of this she would share if she wasn’t so deeply disturbed and upset.
You went to Jack’s funeral, and discovered early on that you’d be waiting awhile to actually see him because everyone else who hadn’t given a shit in the past years decided to make up for it today. One of his exes showed up with her new boyfriend but started sobbing violently as she began to give a loud speech about how good of a man he was. As she spoke, you imagined Jack rolling over in his grave; or at this point, coffin; at her tears. “Wasn’t good enough for you to keep your pants on when Mark showed up!” You imagined him saying.
What stood out the most was the fact his casket was closed. Which only solidified your denial in Jack’s death. How out of place you seemed, staring down at the chiseled oak with a glare like you were expecting him to pop out and scare you like he did at a Halloween party years prior. Something even more ghastly was that you didn’t even think there was a body in there.
Weeks later you still hadn’t accepted that he died. You still consoled his mother and spoke with her often, you weren’t a complete lamb. David had yet to call, he was probably suffering a lot more than you were with your apathy or he was still comatose.
Once again the wind started to blow on through again and it finally caused you to shiver and begrudgingly trod to the window. As you neared, you heard the undeniable whisper of the leaves as they rustled and gently tapped the sides of the house. The outside was hardly visible, illuminated by the full moon and it left a cascading deep blue over the rest of the world.
You stared outside for a moment longer, letting the cool air curl around you and leave gooseflesh with every kiss upon your skin. The moonlight seems to bless you every moment you sit in its presence, the soft light bears white brightness among the clouds and entrances you in a way it never has before.
“Long time no see” a voice rings out from behind you.
Now you understand why.
As you turn around, there stands Jack Goodman in (what's left of) the flesh and before you can even think of it, you’re loudly exclaiming “Jesus Christ!” Before scurrying to your bed and balling up the covers as you try to shun away whatever you’re seeing by covering your eyes. “No, Jack, remember? God have you gone completely off your rocker since you’ve last seen me?”
You don’t dare remove the covers from your eyes, and you don’t have to. The springs of your mattress ache with weight and a gentle hand pulls it back. The fright sets a warm fire deep in your stomach.
Nonetheless, there he is, Jack Goodman. One of your best friends, completely mauled and looking at you with a smile as the grotesque chunks of flesh that's covered in a deep cherry red glisten under the light. In a macabre way, it makes your mouth water.
Jack looks at you for a moment before waving his hand in front of your face and snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. “You there? Oh god, you’re in shock; David’s gonna kill me again” he snickers at his own awful joke.
As you come back to earth, Jack gives you the rundown of what’s happened so far. While he speaks, you focus on what he’s wearing. The green puffer jacket that had been doused in your scent the night before because Jack “forgot you used it as a pillow case”; that statement is another one David did not buy and consistently gave him shit for the chick repellent as they rode on the back of a shepherd's truck.
“How I ended up back here, I’m not sure, not that I’m complaining about being in these sheets again” he flirts as he smiles at you, deep and round eyes looking directly into yours with something raw behind it all the pleasantry. You and Jack had slept together, he was as sweet as a friend with benefits could be.
“I think I’m going crazy” you say aloud and he titters before propping his leg up on your bed and resting his head on it sideways; leaving the bloody, mangled, and mutilated part of his skin open and hot against the air.
Jack catches your gaze and seems unable to resist the comment that comes from his mouth. “No fucking way” he laughs. You back yourself up against the headboard and pull your comforter with you, holding it defensively to your mouth and you give a startled look that quickly turns to anger. “What?” You snap out, a lot higher pitched than you wanted to, that made you sound more like someone caught with a porno mag and less like you were genuinely confused.
The look he gives you is a recognizable one, but it feels so alien at the same time. He starts to gently crawl towards you on all fours, in a way he knows you like to see. Feigning that innocence to how you feel just to hear you say it out loud because he mocks you even in death.
“Now, you wouldn’t be feeling a little turned on about how battered I am now would you, sweetness?” He asks, as irreproachable as possible while the pet name sticks to you despite how mockingly he says it. When you’re left gawking, he only gets closer to your face. “Because” pause. He drags one hand up across your covered leg. “If this was the face you wanted all along, I would’ve requested open casket”
Jack gets scarily close. So much so you can now make out minute details. His hair is slicked stiff with blood and sweat, black tufts of hair poke out messily. He smells of grass and mud, but only faintly; what stands out the most is the pheromones reeking off of him that would typically reek, but currently have you biting the inner skin of your bottom lip as the fingers of his left hand dance curiously across your knee.
His fingers have blood crusted under the nails and you sit there entranced by the carnal beauty of it all. Jack smiles to himself and takes it as an opportunity to trace your lips with his calloused fingers. Typically, he’d be a blushing mess and if he were still completely alive he’d never be so bold with someone.
Only difference this time is that he wasn’t alive, not fully; and that it was you. The amount of times he’d been almost caught with you on him has surpassed his count, and sure as hell yours. However the word almost really means David and when it comes to David, he’s got an amateur sleuth mindset and can unfortunately piece two and two together.
Unthinking, you open your mouth and feel as Jack pushes his index and middle finger over your tongue. Your tongue swirls around the pads of his fingers, feeling every ridge, scar and delta. A gummy clot of blood that was caught in the corner of his cuticle touches your tongue and you suck even harder.
Jack’s eyes become lidded, he looks at a random spot in your direction for a few moments, feeling the work of your mouth against his hands once again and in such a grisly manner makes his stomach burn.
Softly he pulls his fingers away from your mouth. He rests his hands on either side of you and puts his mouth close to your ear. “How about you shut the light off and we try that thing you’ll deny wanting to do” he whispers before he bites and tugs on the lobe of your ear before pulling away.
You push the blanket off of you, the plush of your thighs visible to Jack as you walk towards the light switch.
When the darkness floods the room, you’re left in wait for Jack, just as you were in life. When nothing happens for a few seconds you think you’ve gone crazy and you’re too afraid to turn around and see that he’s really not there.
The beautiful blue hue of the moon sets over your shoulders and the cool air brushes against your neck. The hairs prick up as the cool feeling leaves ghosts of kisses against your skin.
“Still here” Jack says quietly against the shell of your ear. You turn around to face him and he flicks the light on again, temporarily blinding you. “ M’ sorry” he says as his kisses become full and wet mouthed against your neck “changed my mind, jus’ wanted to see you walk away”
He buries himself there and you feel him smile before his teeth graze against you. The blood gushing from his wounds starts to slick your neck. This doesn’t stop him, he kisses and nips harshly on your veins and feels the pulse thrumming beneath it.
It’s like he can’t control himself. There’s something so deeply carnal and vulnerable about how he is now; as many times you’ve put yourself on him, nothing can compare to the sweetness of his blood covered lips against yours.
His teeth are digging deeply into your neck, a small pain blossoming from his teeth nipping at your skin. Your eyes shut and a breathy exhale leaves your lips. Jack smiles, like he always has, into your skin and comes up to give you a kiss. The sweet and metallic taste of his lips on yours leaves you utterly intoxicated like the first taste of absinthe.
If you had to compare it though, he’s much sweeter. And warmer. So much warmer.
Jack’s mouth has suddenly gone away from the short and innocent kisses and have transformed into heavily pressed attacks scattered across anywhere collar up. His skin is comfortingly thermic and at this point you have no choice but to fall back into the dizzying heat as Jack touches you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and it may very well be.
His hands are ever moving and constant. There’s a searing palm resting between your neck and ear. The free hand wanders continuously over your waist to the back of your thigh. Your hands move without your own permission and begin to unzip the green puffer jacket that’s half shredded and half covered in blood.
You hope that if he decides to leave, you can keep the jacket. Even just a piece to remember him by. It was a group purchase around the holidays one year, when David gifted you both an identical jacket similar to his red one. Yours was an absolute eyesore, but the mundane routine of wearing it all the time made the shade entirely your own.
You gently push Jack away from you and get to look in his eyes. You get to see the humanity tucked behind them as his clouded lust quickly turns into the sheepish look of a boy scolded by a schoolmarm. Even though you’re still entranced by just seeing him again after having to say goodbye before Europe and a second time to a piece of wood. Part of you wants to remain this illusioned forever, so that you can hold onto him even if he decided long ago to let go of you; because at this point all you have is a hideous puffer jacket and dinner receipts of a meal you paid for stuffed in your otherwise empty wallet. Suddenly the doe eyes and boyish smile disappear. A misstep.
“Guess kissing a corpse wasn’t on your bucket list, huh?” He chides with an awkward laugh but you know Jack better than that, and he’s being vulnerable. Pressed against the door of your room, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck; careful to leave the wound be, and as he looks at you; you knock your foreheads together and you press a small kiss to his lips and bump noses. “Could’ve gone for that one actor you like so much” you say, another kiss. “I’ll put in a good word for you” kiss.
Jack pushes his mouth closer to you without much thought, and it leads to some of the blood on his neck smearing on your arm. Suddenly the blaze in Jack’s eyes comes back and you grin.
Jack sticks his hand in the wound like it’s as normal as scratching an itch and a small amount of the blood comes onto his fingertip. He cups your face with the same hand, mindful of his bloody thumb. Your eyes dart between the pad of his thumb, that Jack pushes ever closer to your mouth; only waiting for permission to push it through.
There would be no coming back from it and you both know it. Jack has nothing to lose, while you’re teetering on the line between sanity and lunacy. The comparison of Eve and the apple comes to mind; any other lustful sin could be forgiven, but to feast upon the flesh and to consume the marrow of a ghost? Should this be a test from whatever divine figure that hates you enough to manifest your dead fuck buddy, you were bound for damnation surely. Your lips part.
Your mouth sours with saliva before you can truly taste. Then it hits you. The succulent, metallic taste sinks onto your tastebuds and you hope that Jack’s blood remains there until the end of your days. The splotch of scarlet forever stained on your tongue like ink upon papyrus so that any lover you may take after Jack knows they can’t compare because they won’t come this close.
You flick the light out, for good this time, and guide Jack to your bed. He waits patiently as you crawl in first. He waits by the edge with bated breath and glances at the full moon for but a moment. You poke your leg out over the bed and poke him with your foot and he pounces at you. The shirt that was tucked underneath his puffer coat has minimal damage compared to the rest of him. You sit up and drag it off of him and he instead goes for ripping the fabric off like it’s burning him.
You’re doing the same to your own and Jack is immediately kissing on every inch of your skin, there's a desperation that is unlike anything you’ve ever known. After you’ve both wriggled out of every piece of clothing and left slobbering wet kisses across chests and lips you start to get to the most sinful and carnivorous part of the night.
Jack’s pumping himself and whimpering all sorts of filth at you as you kiss around the lines where skin meets meat. “Please, honey, I want you to, I do, c’mon” Just one bite. He needs it, he needs to know he’s good. “You can’t hurt me” he whispers, strained.
Your teeth graze the saccharine flesh before you sink into the hot and dewey meat. Jack’s warmed up intensely, the heat rolling off of him in the moonlight in thick clouds of white. Jack shudders and you begin to let go immediately “Fuck, no, keep going” he says, lowering his neck on you more as his fingers begin to grace around you.
When you fully sink in again, there’s a burst of an unfamiliar flavor that hits you so hard you hope it doesn’t immediately get you hooked and desperate like morphine. You pull and tear and suck upon him but it doesn’t change anything. The difference between the living and the undead is that while you’re aching and getting the relief of Jack’s feast upon your body, wether it be by biting or pumping into your core, Jack is unchanging until time wants him to. You’re glad you were blessed enough to have him presented as you remembered, just a bit more banged up. Deliciously so.
You’re happy you can be close to him again, like this. Nothing else in the world but the two of you. For however long he’s tied to this plane, you want to take advantage of it all and you will greedily keep him here until he’s forced to go. So you bite, you bite and rip and chew like it’s the last way you’ll ever love anyone ever again. You wrap your hands into his hair and dig your nails into his scalp and all he does is smile at you and whisper your name he keeps his pace thrusting inside of you. When you pull away to meet his eyes, the glint of the night rests in his irises.
You imagine you must look like something positively cryptid. His blood smothered across your mouth, a toothy smile in his direction like a fox in a henhouse. He doesn’t say anything, he merely places a kiss on your mouth and breathes heavily across your lips. “ M’ close, honey” he says, as thoughtful as ever, and that’s how you know this has to be real; previous thoughts be damned, werewolves, ghosts, lawyers? All real.
You know this Jack Goodman is yours because even after being mauled to death and abandoned, after having to tell his best friend that he has to die, and after finding himself in your bed again and being accepted with open arms, he still tells you when he’s about to cum.
“I’ll take it as a bereavement gift” you say and he simply rolls his eyes and says “you talk too much” you tug at his pulled apart skin again before falling back into the sheets. Biting your lip and wrapping your legs around his core, you hold Jack’s head as he buries it in your neck and presses his forehead in the nape of your shoulder to watch himself go in and out for a few strokes before he pulls back and kisses you hard. You don’t open your mouth quick enough and your teeth collide painfully for a second and Jack giggles an apology against your lips as he continues his thrusts.
He pushes you back into the pillows with his weight and he moans into your shoulder. The perfect cadence of sound in your ears and after he stills for a moment you can feel the pulse of his cock inside you as he cums.
Ever the overachiever, he pulls out quickly and places his bloodied mouth in between your legs. The blood of his neck laceration rubs slick and loud against your thigh coating every pore and marking.
He puts his mouth on your clit, just like you taught him. He twirls his tongue around and even tries murmuring out something to dirty talk you, but he gets so pussy drunk it’s nearly impossible to hear what he’s saying.
He takes care not to get a mouthful of his own cum, his fingers going at a pace that you can hear even buried in the pillows.
Once again your hands find his hair and you push him deeper into your clit and Jack, always the good boy, obliges and tongue fucks you even harder.
Your legs lock around his head as you cum and he lets out a hum as you do. Your hips snap forward and he rides it out. Once you’ve come down a bit, he presses a few kisses to your thighs before going up to join you.
“Hope birth control covers that”
“Be more surprised if it did, I think”
Jack snickers and lays next to you, fingers trailing up your figure with blankets gathered unevenly around the waist down.
He’s still a human furnace and you eagerly curl up next to him. “Will you be gone tomorrow?” You ask. You expect a melancholy response. “Might go tell David to kill himself, but I’ll be back. Can’t guarantee I’ll be this pretty though” he says.
