#nightlyscribes

[phonkscribes]

singular devious thought before i turn in for the night.

Minors DNI

As much as Vergil seems to be the stoic type during intimate situations, he is not quiet at all. He could try to be, but that in itself is rather. He growls, he'll hiss, grunt and even groan when you squeeze him just right. Your walls being a tight embrace around him, it makes it hard for him to get himself under control as much as he wants to be composed. He's desperate, but that's something only he can know as his desires are met. He has no qualms with working for them, if you're on top, though making the eldest son of Sparda submit is a feat in itself.

The half-devil will speak your name, in a low tone, dropping it an octave for your ears as he alerts you of what he wants if you're failing to deliver it or grant it for him. The patient man unravels like a ball of yarn, falling into the the warmth of the sensation as he draws closer and closer to his release. Right as he does, he buries himself deep into the crook of your neck, latching onto the side of your neck and biting down. It's enough to leave a mark, and it definitely will. He doesn't leave you when the act is over, but he lingers, basking in your shared afterglow before he leads you to the bathroom for a shared bath.

Washing your hair and body relaxes him and allows him to get more comfortable as opposed to just falling asleep after having fucked you. Vergil is methodical, and he does not want to sleep while feeling sweaty. Perhaps it's also just to get a good whiff of your fresh scent as it mingles with his too as he just holds you there.

[phonkscribes]

Wesker catching the reader sniffing one of his sweaters but he doesn’t stop them once he sees them doing it. Oh? You like the way he smells, you little deviant. How naughty.

[phonkscribes]

Still.

Perhaps he just liked to annoy you, or maybe he's curious because he hasn't ever seen you... upset or expressive much beyond the disdain you carry when dealing with demons and the like. You're not gruff, but you're not soft spoken either. Perfectly balanced, right in the middle, holding this weird indifference to your character. When trying to get under your skin, he finds that his actions have consequences, which only adds to your allure.

In which Dante is put in his place, for once, by none other than the (AMAB)Reader.

Minors DNI.

You were reading over something you'd borrowed from the library, a book that you could find that pertained to demonology. It was filled with all sorts of information, with diagrams of horned beasts and chained monsters that you've fought before. There wasn't anything else that you really wanted to read, but you didn't know what else to do with your down time. You could only refine your skills and sharpen your blade so many times a day before even that didn't offer anything more than the burn in your muscles and the familiar ache of stretching your limbs for practice. You're human, weaker in comparison to the boss of your agency, but not inferior in the slightest.

Dante had come to acknowledge that from watching the way you'd dance around the battlefield, holding yourself upright and with poise despite the circumstances. Death didn't scare you, even if he thought you could be a little concerned with it. Though... knowing that you could handle yourself without his help was a comforting thought. He'd walked in the lobby of the Devil May Cry, leaning on the door way as he observed your resting expression. Even when resting you were so serious, lighten up a bit will ya?

He approaches, as you have your head down, but you're already quite aware. How could you not be? He leans his arms down on the couch, looking at you with a certain glint to his sky blue eyes.

"So... whatcha readin'?", he asks casually.

"Alighieri's Beastiary on the Nine Circles", you muse dully, flipping a page to look at a rather unpleasant demon.

Funny that you've yet to see the famed little red bastard with red horns and a spiked tail that people think of when they hear the world 'devil'. This one had a wide, gaping maw with teeth that were too straight and too white within its blackened gums.

"Ah, I see", Dante nods, as if he's read it before.

He wasn't much for reading himself, but that didn't mean that he too didn't happen to indulge in the literary arts from time to time. There were the greats like Liefeld and Nicieza. He preferred short stories, packed with action like his own. Although at the moment, he could care less about what lied on the pages. Dante reaches forward and swipes the book from your hands, not really paying attention to the grinning demon in your book. He was more focused on how you'd react.

The reaction is delayed, as if you're not quite able to process why the book had been removed from your hands as he looked it over. Dante chuckled when you turned your head to glance at him, narrowing your eyes slightly.

"Give that back", you state calmly, as you always had.

"If you want this back, why don't you come and get it?", he smirks, pulling his grin to one side of his face.

You wished at times that he'd be a little more serious, a little less playful, but you supposed that it came with Dante's charm. He didn't direct his silly games at you too often, granted you didn't buy into them and weren't one to be goaded but... you were bored. It wouldn't hurt to indulge him.

Just this once.

Getting up from your seat on the couch, you reach to take the book you were reading back, but Dante pulls his hand out of reach. Your mouth twitches. Leaning over it now, you reach again, and Dante moves his arm back further. He chuckles, and you give him a rather pointed stare. When you walk around the furniture, to stand in front of him, you reach for it again but he holds it above your head.

"Dante"

"Yeees?", he asks innocently.

"Hand the book over now"

"And what will you do if I don't, hm?"

You step closer, close enough to smell him, to see every minute detail of his face. Dante could use a shave, you reckon. His stubble is starting to grow out again, and he has an earthy scent to him. You cannot deny that you have a handsome man as your boss, nor the thought that eagerly presses itself to the front of your mind. This is the part where you'd usually glare at him, annoyed with this and leave to go and busy yourself with something else.

It comes as a surprise to the legendary devil hunter when you don't step off. He didn't think he'd find your hands taking his shirt into fists and turning him around so suddenly. Dante didn't think he'd ever be pushed over his own couch with you leaning over him. He could easily shove you back or hand the book back, this position isn't really threatening him at all. He feels himself smile, but that's only because he's impressed.

You're stronger than you look, he'd give you that. Now that he's looking at you from this position, he sees that there's a special little glint in your own eyes. Same as his.

"I'll do this", he say, amusement tinging your monotonous voice.

You watch him laugh quietly, feeling the way something curls in your chest at the sound he makes in his throat. It's a pleasant sound, and though you probably shouldn't be thinking about it... you wonder what other sounds he could make. Dante reaches out to you with one hand, caressing your cheek with one hand as the other sets the book down. The heat of his hand makes your feel warm, and perhaps a little bold.

"It must be quite the read, but I will say, you're quite the catch", his legs cross over your waist.

"Yes well, you have my attention now", you raise your brow provocatively as he leans forward.

You lean forward some more, using your legs as anchors for the both of you so that you two don't slide down the couch and onto the floor. There's a pause, a moment where neither person makes a move or says a word until the gap is finished off by the mutual attraction you had for each other. His lips are soft against your own, pressing against yours and gentle. You thought he'd be more reckless, as he was out while he fought, but this was good too. Dante moves his hand to rest behind your head and to move through your hair as you feel his teeth nibble on your bottom lip.

When you allow him to slip his tongue along yours, he is attempting to get more ground, curling himself upwards to push himself up and against you. You smirk as your hands remain where they were before, on his chest. Holding him down, you return the kiss with a dormant desire, something that's been longing for this moment. He giggles, as you assert yourself, holding him place but letting go of his shirt. One hand has him 'pinned' while the other trails down his body.

Down the anterior of his torso, along his oblique and towards his hips. It's a slow, deliberate travel as you pant into his mouth for air. He didn't need to breathe, he could suffocate on you all day if he wanted. The sound of you taking your breath back as you breathed into him was exciting, and he wanted more. Dante squirmed under your hand, your fingers feeling ticklish along his clothes through his skin. You couldn't help but to savor every inch of his body, enjoying the touch of the half-devil.

He was gorgeous, a marvel in his own right. You stroked his thigh before returning to your kiss. His legs pulled you closer, if that were possible. You were angled perfectly against his ass, if the two of you weren't clothed right now, all you'd need to do was push. Dante could feel that, the certain hardness pressing up against the curve of his ass through your pants.

"I want you", he growled, his teeth brushing up against yours as he looked into your eyes.

"Be patient, I'm not fucking you over the couch... and not on it either"

"Aw", he feigned disappointment at your response, "How about my room then?"

"That works", you lean back with ease, and watch as he untangles his hand from your hair to offer both them out to you so that you could pull him up.

The son of Sparda releases his legs from your waist as he holds onto one of your hands and leads you up the stairs. His room is... what you expected it to be, in all honesty. It's a bit messy, but it's not a pig's sty. You're back to kissing once the door closes behind you. He falls onto the bed with a gentle push, and you're back to that familiar position you had him in, taking your shirt off and helping him out of his own to abandon somewhere on the floor. Your hand pulls the belt from around his waist in a swift, one-handed motion.

Dante's dick presses up against yours as you press down into him. The friction is pleasant but it won't soothe neither of you. He groans when you free him. He's quite sizeable, you hum as you look down between the two of you, taking your cocks in hand and stroking the both of you. You spit into your hand to provide some lube, he's only surprised that you didn't pull out a small bottle. Ever the stoic, ever prepared. He guesses you weren't anticipating this.

To be fair, he wasn't anticipating this either.

The pace is set to a medium, neither fast or slow, which is like you. He watches you while you work, watching as your brow furrows and your face reddens. The tip of your cock rubs against his underside, massaging his frenulum as you press into him there. You hear a gasp draw from the hunter that pleases your ears immensely, at which you speed up your hand. Dante leans up and takes your lips again, groaning into your throat as you kiss him back. His hands find themselves elsewhere this time, at either side of your shoulders as he crosses his arms around your neck.

He likes the closeness, the way you're working hard to satisfy the both of you, him more than yourself. Such a gentleman. He'd gathered that much from you. Eventually he tires of the kissing, and his stubble tickles the side of your jaw as he moves in to claim your neck. He can see the way your artery moves beneath your flesh, and he enjoys the way you tighten the pocket of your hand as he places his teeth right on that spot. A soft sigh escapes you, nearly shuddering as Dante smiles beside your throat.

"You like that?", he asks as he prods his tongue against you, sucking gently to tug at your nerves.

He takes your silence as a 'yes'.

In retaliation, you grind your palm over his cock head, grinding into him and only urging him to bite elsewhere next. Brat. It's still a game, to see who buckles or caves first. It's not going to be you, even if his mouth makes you want to teach him a lesson. With your free hand you tap his shoulder, which causes him to stop. Dante worries, just for a second until you're tugging his pants off to get access to his ass. His eyebrows raise as he gets the idea and turns around to present. He even wiggles it at you, a taunt.

"Hmph", you put a hand on it, caressing the curve appreciatively. Should you pray before you eat?

...

Nah.

You give Dante a quick smack before spreading him open, delighting in his puckered hole winking at you in greeting. Leaning down you put your tongue over the ring of muscles, pressing in as you enjoy your feast. The grip you have on either cheek is rough, in the case that he tries to run away from you. His scent is most prominent here, and the way he pushes back into your mouth excites you. You can hear the devil chuckle at the warmth while you tongue fuck him.

His toes curl slightly, and he closes his eyes to get nice and comfortable as you treat him nicely. You're as hard as ever, as you spit in his hole, using it as lube as you rise, smearing the fluid over your dick before you get ready to push into him. It wouldn't be enough, and maybe you should've prepped him just a little bit better, but alas- he did interrupt your reading. Why should you take it easy on ol' Dante?

He groans under you as he welcomes your dick in, walls tensing around the intruder as you let yourself come flush to the hilt. A growl escapes your own lips as you grip his hips, looking down at him as he turns to look over his shoulder. You draw back slowly before snapping forward, relishing in the sound of your skin against his as he gasps. You're dreadful as you go in and out, wanting to lean over him so that your bodies are closer together, but you were on a mission. You had to teach this brat a lesson about taking things from you.

With each thrust into the devil hunter, you're angling yourself to find the right angle, listening attentively to the man under you as you fuck him. At a strong clench around your cock, you smirk while holding his eyes.

"Jackpot"

"That's my li- ah-"

One hand remains at his sides while the other reaches around for his dribbling dick, pumping it in time with your thrusts. Your rhythm has him grunting, his eyes squinting as he feels the coil behind his naval tighten. You're both close, ready to spill, so you start jerking him faster. The sounds he makes is music to your ears. As you grind into him, his grunting turns into growls. Like an animal in heat, and that makes this hotter somehow.

You rut into him a few more times before you spill your load, deep within the son of Sparda. Looming over him at last, you sink your own teeth into his shoulder, sucking in a satisfied groan as your dick throbs in his ass. He spills too, white ropes being emptied beneath him as you keep stroking him. You wouldn't be satisfied until he was drained. Dante's legs spasm under yours as you kiss where you'd marked him, not that it'd stay with his healing factor.

He whines as you grind into him, pushing him through his orgasm until he's shaking. At last, you relent when he can't take it, and you pull yourself from that impeccable ass. You feel your cum dribble down his taint, onto your own cock as you lay over him for a moment. He's pressed into his own filth, and you're being coated in your own, but you're both content.

"That was... hah... wow", he smirks as you stare at him, "Didn't think you had it in ya"

"Maybe you'll be wiser to heed my warning next time", you reply, going to move to admire your efforts.

"Maybe... or maybe I'll just keep pushin' my luck"

You make a face before going to collect your things to hit the showers. Dante laughs from where he lays, but you certainly wouldn't mind repeating today's lesson. It crosses your mind briefly as you exit, and harasses you as you let the cascade wash over your hair and down your back.

[phonkscribes]

write a fic where Wesker somehow (you don't even have to explain it I just want you to write it because I love your writing.) Gets stepped on lol

Can do, Anon :) !

Minors DNI.

It's the first time you're able to meet him in person, finally where he's no longer able to hide behind the vessel. Anger pools in your fiery irises as he looks up with shock across his features. Did he not expect this day to come? Did he not pray and wish for it every night, day after day when the world would reset and their progress came undone. Your hand finds his throat, feeling press flush against your blackened hand. The virus manifests through the epidermis of your skin, forming jagged teeth that start to sink into the pitiful mortal's neck. He can only make a choked noise, something short of a gasp and a moan.

"It hurts, doesn't it?", you coo, your lips twisting upwards into a big grin. "I finally have you, right where I want you"

You chuckle in that strained tone of yours, because as much as you want him to suffer for putting you through a never ending loop, he is weak and will break easy. He hasn't the herbs or sprays to heal himself, nor his infuriating little partner to get in your way to try and stop you. His hands circle around your wrist, looking into your eyes with something other than fear. You grimace. On his face, there is not that of dread, nor sadness. Behind those sun glasses, he's quite happy, nervously grinning from ear to ear as you hold him tightly. That's when you remembered the reason why he kept coming back through the vessel. It's always to see you, it's always been to see you.

Disgust infiltrates your mind as you toss him to the floor, watching as he falls onto his back, propping himself on his elbows as he struggles to find words to say. He hadn't ever thought that this day would come, should it come at all. How he was even here boggled his own bright mind, and quickly as he began to stammer did he realize how excited he'd become. He couldn't quite think, believing it to be a dream of sorts, but your hand on his body had been very real. The warmth of your claw around his throat was true, and so was the little droplets of blood that formed when you'd thrown him.

"It's your lucky day, worm", you regard him, turning your attention to his pitiful form on the ground when you notice the certain tent in his pants.

"I-... You don't mean to kill me do you?", it felt like such a foolish thing to ask, his face burning from embarrassment as he moves to sit up.

If he's going to face you, he's going to do so with dignity. Although, you quite preferred him the way he was before.

"And if I did? Would you beg me for your life?"

"I would thank you!", he blurts out.

Such devotion, such worship...

You can feel something in your chest throb, that smile of yours creeping across your face as you look down upon him. You chuckle, a hand coming to cover your face as it erupts into a fit of laughter. You throw your head back, your shoulders bouncing as you shake your head in your own disbelief. Good answer. Your heels click against the ground as you loom over him, the sole of your boot lifting and resting upon his chest before you send him back to the ground. He grunts from the force, nearly having the wind knocked out of him as he gasps in discomfort. As he tries to look up, you bring your foot down to his crotch.

He shivers at your touch, going silent as his gaze travels up your leg and then to your face. He's so happy he could cry, but to cry in front of you would be--

"Is this what you want?", you ask, grinding against his erection as you watch him.

"Wh- nn.. No- I--", You press your toe against him, folding your arms as you glare.

"Do not lie", you tease, stroking him with your foot.

He sucks in a breath through his mouth as his eyes fall back down to your heel, drawing delicious friction as he balls his hands up into fists at his sides. How pathetic... but it only makes you want torment him more. You want to see him cry, tears streaking down those pale cheeks made rosey from the shame of cumming just by touch alone. When you stop, he groans, as if in pain. Those sky blue eyes glance up at you with want as you tilt your head.

"If you don't want this, I'll kill you and be rid of you now. Don't waste my time", you growl, smile replaced with a stern scowl. After a moment, he responds.

"I... want... I want this", he pleads.

It's so delightful to hear, and you resume stepping on him, since he wanted this after all. Wesker loses himself to the feeling, panting as you massage his cock. It must hurt with how hard he is, knowing that it's straining against the fabric of his pants. You remove your foot, and tell him to free himself. Like an obedient dog, he unbuckles his belt and slides his pants down low enough to reveal his throbbing dick. A bead of pre sits at his tip as you muse to yourself. You lift your foot again, bringing it up to his face expectantly.

He begins to kiss it. Wesker's soft lips caress the leather of your sole, tears welling up in his eyes but he does not move to touch himself. You're quite surprised by how obedient he is, his will strong enough to not want to disappoint you or to have you chastise him. It's adorable, which is something you shall gladly take advantage of. Your heel finds itself back to his dick, stroking it a bit faster as you look into his eyes. He moans like such a little whore, and just from your foot alone. What noises might he make if it were your hands, or even your mouth?

If you keep up your pace like this, he'll cum. You can tell from the sound of his hoarse breathing as he starts to close his eyes, expecting that white release to overtake him. But you are cruel to deny it. Your foot falls back to the ground, resting as you stare with indifference. He opens his eyes to furrow his brows, as if he's been caught doing something wrong. He parts his mouth to ask, but you silence him with the quick raise of your hand.

"You're forgetting something dearheart", you smile, looking gentle as you loom over him.

"When you want something, you ought to use that pretty little mouth of yours. What is it that you want?"

So angelic is your voice to him, that he cannot be frustrated with him when you ask this of him. He knows the answer, but to beg for it again? Please, he'd never felt so pathetic before in his whole life. It was bad enough that he loved it. He loved the way you talked down to him, he loved how you had every opportunity to kill him as you'd done time and time again in your game. His cock ached so badly he might've cried out from the denial.

"[Y/N]... please... please let me cum", he whined, going to clutch at his shirt as he slowly rolled his hips. Just a little more. He needed just a little more.

Your laugh alone was nearly enough to do it, and he has to clench his jaw from becoming undone for a little longer. You spit on Wesker's cock, smearing it up and down his shaft with your boot as you get back to it. He whimpers, bucking his hips up and into you as he cries out. His moan catching in his throat as he growls, breathy as he throws his head back. His semen coats his stomach in white, ruining the blue button up he'd worn.

A bit of it gets on your shoe, but you could wipe that off on the ground. You watch as he brings his head back up, panting as his erection jumps with life. He's spent, but that shouldn't matter.

"Now that you've been satisfied, it's time for you to do something that satisfies me. I'll find something for you, yet", as his eyes fall close, the last thing he hears is your sinister chuckle loud against his ears.

When he wakes up, he's in his bed, alarm clock buzzing loudly with a moist sensation between his legs. He lays in a cold sweat, the annoying ringtone filling the morning silence as he cannot wait to spring to his desktop.