see-the-thrill

Latest Posts by see-the-thrill

💋Smooching Dante’s cute face pls 💕😘

Thanks for the request. Many kisses for Dante xx

cw. fluff, making out, lipstick involved, gender neutral reader, chubby reader, minors do not interact

You cupped Dante’s face between your hands, reaching up on the tips of your toes as you planted firm kisses to his skin in a flurry of movement. He’s taken a little bit by surprise as you press closer to him, his hands anchored to your plump hips to keep himself steady as you attack his face with a multitude of kisses. You punctuate each kiss with a loud pop of your plush lips, your lipstick smudged into his pale skin as you continue your assault in a wild flurry. Dante couldn’t help but smile as he teasingly spoke. 

“Slow down babe, I ain’t going anywhere.”

You hummed softly, catching his cheeks between the pinch of your fingers until they flushed red. 

“I love you!” you proclaimed, pressing more fleeting kisses to his skin, until you could feel the stubble of his beard scratching against your round cheeks. “I love you I love you I love you~”

By now your lipstick was bleeding into Dante’s skin and smudging around the corners of your lips. But you purposefully avoided his mouth, waiting until you were both feeling a little breathless from your sudden spur of excitement and you had calmed down. Amusement sparkled in the depths of Dante’s eyes when you pulled back, kiss swollen lips puckered into a soft pout as he laughed merrily at your sudden whimsy. He raised his index finger and tapped it against the seam of his mouth. 

“You missed a spot” he said, quirking a snowy brow in anticipation.

You were invited closer, until his arms were wrapped firmly around your plump waist and you were raising yourself on the tips of your toes once more. Another soft hum tickled the back of your throat as you planted your lips on Dante’s, melting into the touch as he leaned down and kissed you back. Your teeth clacked awkwardly when you tried tipping your head at a different angle and you could feel Dante’s tongue lapping away whatever lipstick still remained painted on your skin. A thoughtful noise stirred in Dante’s chest before he spoke, his lips barely leaving yours as he uttered words into the plump cushion of your mouth. 

“Maybe I should go out more often, if I get greeted like this every time I come back~” he mused. 

A short huff of indignation blew from your nose and you nipped at Dante’s lips in retaliation. It barely stung and only encouraged Dante’s cheeky behaviour, fingers pinching your soft waist as you were folded further into his arms. He savoured the shape of your mouth as your taste tickled his tongue and lingered in his throat when he had to swallow. When your tongues touched briefly, he could feel small little bolts of electricity racing down the notches of his spine and he moaned unabashedly into the warmth of your mouth. 

You were left feeling pleasantly dizzy and you couldn’t help the smile that lit up your face at the sight of Dante’s face covered in overlapping lipstick marks. The soft snort that bubbled up your throat made him tilt his head in question. 

“Where’s my phone? I need to take a picture of this.”

💋Smooching Dante’s cute face pls 💕😘

Thanks for the request. Many kisses for Dante xx

cw. fluff, making out, lipstick involved, gender neutral reader, chubby reader, minors do not interact

You cupped Dante’s face between your hands, reaching up on the tips of your toes as you planted firm kisses to his skin in a flurry of movement. He’s taken a little bit by surprise as you press closer to him, his hands anchored to your plump hips to keep himself steady as you attack his face with a multitude of kisses. You punctuate each kiss with a loud pop of your plush lips, your lipstick smudged into his pale skin as you continue your assault in a wild flurry. Dante couldn’t help but smile as he teasingly spoke. 

“Slow down babe, I ain’t going anywhere.”

You hummed softly, catching his cheeks between the pinch of your fingers until they flushed red. 

“I love you!” you proclaimed, pressing more fleeting kisses to his skin, until you could feel the stubble of his beard scratching against your round cheeks. “I love you I love you I love you~”

By now your lipstick was bleeding into Dante’s skin and smudging around the corners of your lips. But you purposefully avoided his mouth, waiting until you were both feeling a little breathless from your sudden spur of excitement and you had calmed down. Amusement sparkled in the depths of Dante’s eyes when you pulled back, kiss swollen lips puckered into a soft pout as he laughed merrily at your sudden whimsy. He raised his index finger and tapped it against the seam of his mouth. 

“You missed a spot” he said, quirking a snowy brow in anticipation.

You were invited closer, until his arms were wrapped firmly around your plump waist and you were raising yourself on the tips of your toes once more. Another soft hum tickled the back of your throat as you planted your lips on Dante’s, melting into the touch as he leaned down and kissed you back. Your teeth clacked awkwardly when you tried tipping your head at a different angle and you could feel Dante’s tongue lapping away whatever lipstick still remained painted on your skin. A thoughtful noise stirred in Dante’s chest before he spoke, his lips barely leaving yours as he uttered words into the plump cushion of your mouth. 

“Maybe I should go out more often, if I get greeted like this every time I come back~” he mused. 

A short huff of indignation blew from your nose and you nipped at Dante’s lips in retaliation. It barely stung and only encouraged Dante’s cheeky behaviour, fingers pinching your soft waist as you were folded further into his arms. He savoured the shape of your mouth as your taste tickled his tongue and lingered in his throat when he had to swallow. When your tongues touched briefly, he could feel small little bolts of electricity racing down the notches of his spine and he moaned unabashedly into the warmth of your mouth. 

You were left feeling pleasantly dizzy and you couldn’t help the smile that lit up your face at the sight of Dante’s face covered in overlapping lipstick marks. The soft snort that bubbled up your throat made him tilt his head in question. 

“Where’s my phone? I need to take a picture of this.”

been thinking about dante with an artist!reader who secretly draws him (he finds out anyways). like he knows they can draw but suddenly stumbles upon a whole different sketch book and sees beautiful drawings/doodles of him in either his human form or devil trigger even. I can imagine he’d be a lil’ emotional bc “never thought someone could see me this way” and then confronts the reader about it (its all cute and stuff*barffss*)

Dante had never once knew a day where you were without your sketchbooks, pens, pencils, a handful of colouring pencils and a incredible talent to bring whatever you drew to life. It didn't matter what it was that you were drawing becuase it always came out looking better then the actual thing; art was a massive part of your life with some of your favourite works were pinned to your walls, showcasing your range as well as your clutered desk filled with half finished sketches and images that you were using as references were strewn about the desk too.

So when you had asked him to grab something from your room, a sketchbook? pencils? that weird manakin that you use when drawing people? He couldn't remeber exactly what you wanted as it went in one ear and out the other. So he thought if he grabbed whatever his eyes landed on and pray that it was the one that you needed, however what his eyes first saw was your open sketchbook on your desk, and on the two page spread was sketches and drawings of him and his devil trigger form.

Dante's breath hitched in his throat as he felt himself move on it's own towards the open sketchbook on your desk to get a better look of the sketches, only to be left without without any air within his lungs as he saw how you saw him; dangerous but in the beautiful way possible with how you made the red within his coat stand out, or how you made gold mingle with the red of his devil trigger pratically glow in a heavenly light as his horns looked more like a halo then actual devil horns.

You even made his wings looked beautiful on their own with how you made them look as though they had collected all the colours in existence and selfishly hoarded them within his demonic looking wings!

You made him look ehtreal, like he wasn't a demon but instead an angel with a unique look that made him look demonic, and it was enough to have dante a little caught up in his feelings as he didn't exactly held a fondess towards his demonic heritage as it was only something that granted him more benifits for demon hunting and nothing more. Yet here you were making him wanting to appreciate this aspect of himslef when he goes through all of your sketches, only to find more of his devil trigger and himself whether it'd be him fast as sleep or eating pizza and strawberry sundaes; You made him look like a work of art only ever seen within a museum along with the other admired masterpieces.

Something he didn't think anyone would ever see him -especially his devil trigger form- in that particular light and you only proved him wrong by drawing him the way you saw him on the daily, and enough to draw him in bulk within the precious pages of you've sketchbook, something you've told him stuck with him about how you didn't draw anything you didn't view as beautiful or was worth showing it's hidden beauty.

So seeing him within your sketchbook only made Dante feel more honoured to be viewed as beautiful by you, to be the muse that you spent countless and tireless hours working on to perfection late into the night, to be something you wanted to display the truest beauty of by drawing him from the heart of an artist and the end result was something Dante couldn't have fathomed at all.

Further forgetting what he had came into your room orignally for, Dante rushed out the door and went down the stairs in a flash as thougg he was running out of time, capturing you within his arms as he burries his head within your neck and catching you by surpise. 'Jesus Dante, what's gotten into you.' you laughed as you heard him purr soflty in your ear, making you smile and begin to run your fingers through his hair gingerly. 'what's going on within that head of yours?' you add barely above a whisper as his arms tightened on your waist.

'I saw you're drawings of me.' was all he said, still in someway in disbelief that you could make someone like him look like something worth drawing, worth any aspect of portayal as anything other then some half demon that people stay clear of.

You stop caressing his hair upon hearing him say this, which only made him groan as he nudged his head further into your neck needily, huffing and pouting like an overgrown puppy dog that desperetly craves affection constantly. 'You did?' Dante hums. 'what did you think of them?' you asked, nervous now of what his thoughts and opinions on them were.

'i've never had someone draw me, or see me like you do.' Dante says. 'You know i've never liked my devil trigger, nor the fact that i'm half demon, but yet seeing your drawings of me have made me want to be kinder to myself and not be so harsh to a part od me that you view as beautiful.' He adds, kissing the side of your neck as you caresed his hair once more, making him purr once more as his eyes closed in content upon feeling safe.

'Silly Dante.' you cooed, kissing the side of his head, 'of course i see you as beautiful, always have and it doesn't matter what form you take because you'll always be my beautiful muse, devil trigger or my sweet toothed man,' you finished, wanting nothing the to make Dante see that he was all the man you ever seen him as no matter what, it was the least you could do in hopes of showing Dante that he was worth the time and effort you put into your drawings of him; You do it a hundred times over again if it meant getting squashed tightly against his chest as he purrs into your neck like an conent cat.

Dante pulls away to look you in the eye, mimicing your soft smile as he rests his forhead against yours, high off of your words as he wished he had met you earlier in his life but regareless he'd treasure you with his whole heart for as long as he can. 'Your too good to me sweetheart, far too good for me but i'm too selfish to let you go now, far too greedy to let anyone else be seen the way you see me.' he says, nudging his nose to yours.

'Then be selfish all you like becuase i'm not going anywhere, im content here in your arms as life with you is an adventure i wake up each morning eager to greet with open arms.' You tell him, pecking his lips soflty as another purr ripped from his throat. 'but please for the love of god don't leave pizza boxes laying about again or i'm cutting you off from having strawberry sundaes for a month.' you added with a pointed look as Dante pales, knowing this was bound to come to light no matter how much he kisses and cuddles you to death.

'Dully noted sweetheart, dully noted.' Dante said, hoping you wouldn't actually cut him off from his strawberry sundaes.

Can I have a request for DMC 5 Dante x female reader who's immortal?

Dante falls in love with a fellow demon hunter who's an immortal but the reader is afraid of losing someone or just watching her previous lovers grow old leaving her behind. Reader was afraid she'll lose Dante as well.

(I'm not sure if Dante might be immortal too despite he's half-human, any thoughts?)

Note: I am very uncomfortable with the idea of ageing and immortality, not like those people who have a fear of ageing. No. But to think about it, it leaves me in this weird spot where I am looking at centuries and centuries in a span of one play (one stage of life). It's thought provoking, with a little fear being introduced on how irrelevant everything is in respect to time. Is time even real? Anyway. My introduction to immortal characters was the Forever series and The Man from Earth.

That being said, I will still write it because, sure, why not? My writing is lower than beginner; the best I can do is explore the ideas.

Please anon, if you can in any way let me know if you liked it or not. It will be appreciated.

Once Upon a Time

!!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Rated: Mature

Words: 4815 words

Warning: Mature theme, Gore, Sex, Death, Aging

Disclaimer:

Feel free to leave comments, but remember to be nice and civil.

LET'S ROCK!!

You were bad at calculating when you were born? When did it all start? Living for more than 2000 years now. You couldn't exactly remember where and when you were born. All you could remember was the mighty figure that raised his sword, Devil Sword Sparda, they called it. In the air, and declared, "The human world is now under my protection. The gates to Hell are sealed, and nothing shall pass through." It echoed throughout the world.

You didn't know it was 2000 years ago, but when you read the knowledge that came to you. You understand the myth or the legend in history was 2000 years ago. So you were sure you were more than 2000 years old.

You never saw the face of the figure they called Sparda, just his shadow casting on your lifeless body as you were ripped open with your guts spilling on the ground. Demons who did this to you were now vanished or sucked back to hell. You were there, lifeless, on the cold, hard ground. Your iris moved with all the energy you could summon. It looked all blurry and hazy. But something caught your eyes. You were in agonising pain, and you hoped you would die soon. You saw a statue of divinity, so with your spilled entrails. The last breath in you asked you, 'Crawl to it.' It was less than a meter; as you drew your last breath, your bloody hand touched it.

Something happened; you can't tell. But you woke up; it was freezing, your body felt cold, and your clothes were ripped where the demon slashed you, but there was no scar. Your guts must be in now. You felt pain, but it was bearable and subsiding with each second. It was snowing.

You stood up on your feet; they were red, and you made your way to the nearest hut. That's all you remember. You tried to find your first family back, but none were alive. You do not even remember them now.

You blinked, lying in your bed, an ugly way to start your day. You got up from the bed, started to make the bed and then hopped into the shower. You were tired, as you came back to put on your barmaid dress. You loved to wear corsets; they were so perfect. You don't understand why people have to demonise them now. They were perfectly fine even for working women or demon huntresses like you throughout human history. But then you thought, no rights for women were fine throughout most of human history as well. You remembered how much fun it was to blow up administrative buildings during the suffragette movement in England. What days – 'men only understand violence, so we give them violence' – or so everyone used to say back then. In the end, you opted for 'modern' underwear.

You put on your coat and watch. You were on a day off today; you didn't want to deal with any demon. Immortality came with its own benefits; you were a damn good demon hunter, and you got all the time in the world to gain knowledge and hone your skills. You started walking towards the park; sometimes it felt all so lonely to think everyone else who walked this earth has and will perish, but you would not. It won't be long before you have to change your name and place. It was usually every ten to fifteen years. Such a little time in your life span.

You were currently new in this city called Capulet City, a hotbed of demon hunters with someone called legendary devil hunters residing here. You were intrigued. You had heard all the myths, legends, and religions, and you knew what bullocks all of them were.

You were crossing a footbridge, and a man with white hair and a red coat walked past you. You didn't notice, but something stuck out. You turned to look at him without a thought; you shouted, "Wait!" The man did – handsome – first thought, and you berated yourself internally. Yes, he is tall, broad, muscular and handsome, and by your time on earth, you were sure he was packing a lot. But no, this was not the time. He looked at you with a smirk and spoke coolly, "Saw something you like, Miss?" You were lost in thought, and Dante raised his eyebrow. You remember this face; around a century and a half back, the same face in the smoke-filled streets of London. A man with the same face, a purple Victorian long coat, a monocle and features more elegantly framed than this. You remember that person. But you do not know why? But after living for so long, you have no will to challenge fate. You frowned. Could there be another person like you walking the earth for who knows how long?

You walked up to him and scanned him up and down. Man was intrigued, he spoke, "Hello?" You looked up at him, the voice wasn't right. But how could you remember it was more than a century ago? But no, his eyes were purple, and these were icy blue.

Man was losing his patience. "Okay, babe, I'm leaving..." And he started to climb down the stairs of the footbridge. You followed him down and expressed your distaste, "No! No! We need to talk…"

Man scoffed, "Talk? I don't even know you, Babe...go away...find another man to pester…" You kept following him. You held his hand in the middle of the road and stopped him. "No...we are talking..."

The man resigned. He was out of money and food for days anyway, "Fine...buy me lunch..." You blinked, "What!?" Man shrugged, "You want my time and attention; you better buy me a lunch. There is a great pizzeria around." Man started to point in the direction of the pizzeria.

You have seen a lot throughout your life, but never anything like this, curious. Maybe that's why he stuck out in your memory after more than a century. You frowned, "What kind of man asks a woman to pay?" Men of this generation never ceased to amaze you. Man shrugged, "I don't know, one who knows his value?" You didn't have anything to do better, so you nodded, "Fine... and I do not want your attention, just answers..." Man held up both his hands. "Fine... but I should tell you I'm irresistible...."

You rolled your eyes, "Lead the way..."

You two sat in a pizzeria near the window seat. He ordered two large Chicken BBQ and Pepperoni pizzas with two pints of beer. You didn't think to dress for a date. But he wasn't so bad now, you think. Answer or not, he was a fine lay.

Man grinned at you, "Now that our food and drinks are settled, my name's Dante..." Dante held out his hand over the table. You laughed a little and shook his hand. "Made sure you got paid upfront before giving out any information? I'm Y/N." Dante chomped down on his pizza; the man had some appetite. You can't deny how everything about this man was so intriguing or arousing. You had your fair share of men over the years. Some stayed in your heart deeper than others, but you always knew they were all fleeting and never made any real attempt to forge a relationship or have kids; they were lovers at best. You had to be very careful for the longest time in history since contraception was such a new and wonderful invention.

You looked at him and calculated him, "So what do you do, Mister Dante?" Dante let out a laugh, "Mister? Seriously... I'm not used to getting so much respect from women...especially feisty ones. But I am a handyman…"

You raised your eyebrow, some food for thought, handyman, too vague, as if trying to hide something. You spoke calculated, "What sort of assignments do you take, handyman? Maybe fix the hole in my wall?" Dante sipped his beer. "Umm...nahhh...more of pest control..."

You smirked, "I'm in somewhat of a pest control business myself..." Dante smirked, "Ohho... yeah...?" You nodded, "Pesky pests are so big and reoccurring these days, right?" Dante hummed in agreement, munching on his pizza... "I got the right guns for that..." You nodded, "I believe you do...."

Before you knew it, you were on the first floor of Devil May Cry... in his room, kissing him passionately as he kisses you back... your legs wrapped around his waist. You were rutting to his bulge; it was so big, you doubted in all these years you took into such a big monstrosity. Your hands cupped his face; you appreciated the older man. Though you never aged beyond twenty-five, there was something about older men that just made you feel so wet, especially one like Dante. You can guess he was around his forties... but back to the business.

Dante laid you down on the bed, his coat off; he pulled up his Henley and off ... You admired the beautifully sculpted body – it was muscular, the skin a bit aged, but silver hair on his chest. You were drooling... your eyes looked down to his white happy trail, a little unkempt, but you appreciated old beauty. His hand started to unlace the front of your dress, the way your tits popped out. Dante smirked, "Why will you put such a beautiful pair through such torture...?" you hummed, nuzzling the pillow as he massaged them, "to look good..."

Dante smirked, "They look much better in my hands..." Dante's hands trailed down to your waist as he peeled your dress off. He likes the view; you were in quite intricate and lacy lingerie. He laughed, "Were you out there looking to get laid? You just saw what you liked in the street and stopped me?" You just shrugged, "Maybe...."

Dante found you amusing; you were confident in an interesting way. You were not trying to control, yet you were controlling everything, and he was happy enough to play your game. He didn't know exactly why you stopped him. But he knew you were human.

Dante leaned back, standing between your legs hanging from the edge of the bed; he started to kiss your neck, pecking and then biting. You moaned and pulled his head back. You clicked your tongue, "Undressing a lady and remaining dressed? What I did to deserve that?"

Dante knew you were as aroused as him; he could smell it. But the way you were patient, it was like you had all the time in the world. He will make you beg for him. You will be impatient. Dante stood up, popping open the button of his black leather pants and pulling down his fly. He wasn't wearing any underwear. You just smirked; you should have expected that. He was big and messy, his hair at the base unkempt. He was hard, you were right. You never had anyone this big.

Your eyes met his icy blue ones, and you could see how badly he wants to bury himself deep in you. You sat up on the edge of the bed. His cock dripping pre-cum. You wrapped your soft fingers around his thick cock; Dante hissed, squeezing his eyes shut. You started to stroke him slowly; he panted. You cooed at him, "Such a big boy...stay still?" You looked up at him through your lashes, his handsome face teetering at the edge of bliss. You wanted to kiss that handsome face. How his brows were knitted, so cute. You kept stroking him softly from base to tip. Your tongue flicked out to lick his slit and pre-cum; you tasted him; he was good.

You smiled up at him, the tip of your tongue flicking at his slit to lap pre-cum; he was moaning, his large fingers threading your hair. You smiled and took him in. His tip hitting the back of your throat, you moaned as his cock vibrated in your mouth.

Dante praised, his fingers gripping the back of your wet, "Shit! Y/N, so warm and wet! Fuck! You're good!" You knew you were good as you hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your hand up and down to take him to the base. Your nose nuzzling in his pubic hair, he had a musky scent, and you were getting addicted to his taste.

Was he the person you saw in Victorian London? Who knows? For now, he was quite addictive, and you needed to get in his good graces to let him open up to you, right?

Sure, sucking his dick is the best way to hasten to it. Back to work in hand, your one hand held onto his muscular thighs to stabilise yourself; hell, they were thick, and you were already drooling with how much pre-cum he was producing. Now more so, it was heaven. Your hand slides from his base to his balls, fondling them, making him throw back his head with a loud moan, "Y/N, fuck! So good." His hip bucked involuntarily, hitting the back of your throat; you pulled back. His hand was trying to pull you back. You squeezed his balls a bit more. "Patience... handyman ...or should I say legendary demon hunter?" Dante smirked; he looked divine, his face was blessed out, he was panting, there was a pink tint on his cheeks and his trademark smile, "Same as you...babe!"

Your hands gathered your tits around his cock, surrounding them, and started to massage them. Your bra created a perfect net for him to stay in. Dante needed no clue; you both were wild enough. He started to thrust his cock in the little cock sleeve you prepared for him with your sweet tits. He grunts, "Fuck! Heaven! You're full of surprises, babe..."

His hands replaced yours to squeeze your tits together around his cock. Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck to pull him into a hungry kiss, teeth clattering, tongue fighting for dominance and lips swollen...he never stopped thrusting in between your tits. His thrust now irregular and chasing his high. You looked up at him with soft eyes. He smiled down at you ...as he came all over your tits, neck and chin.

He pulled back a bit; he was still hard. He smiled down at you; you looked perfect like this, covered in his cum. He gripped your neck and travelled his hand up to cup your cheeks. You smiled at him, "Is that all you got?"

He growled and flipped you on your stomach; you moaned as his middle finger traced and prodded at your wet spot in your panties. One hand unclasped your bra and threw it away. He gripped your hip to pull you up in the air, his hand on the back of your head pushing your face into the mattress. Your hips try to buck to feel his cock, but he wasn't letting you get any. You whimpered a little annoyed, "Dante..."

Dante rubbed the back of your neck, his hand trailing down your spine, making every inch of your body burn. He spoke patiently, "Let me show you what I got..." His hand came down on your ass hard; it stung, and you yelped, "Ahaa!" Dante smirked; he got on his knee on the floor to smother his face in your panty-clad pussy, and he took a long sniff. He loved your scent. His sharp nose poking your sweet cunt. You moaned as he hooked a finger in your panties to push it aside and lick you slowly and shortly. It was like a kitten lick, your legs trembling...you cursed, "Fuck...!" You were flustered to your chest as he started to fuck your little hole with his tongue and alternated by licking broad stripes along your folds. You came on his tongue in no time.

Dante sucked on your puffy clit to draw your orgasm more; you were a whimpering and crying mess, "Dante...Dante...fuck...baby...you're so good..."

Dante stood up... Pulling down your panties to spank you more, you yelped again. He smirked; he loved the way you jolted.

He smiled, "Loving it, baby?" You nodded your head, "Yes, baby...use protection..." Dante nodded, "I intended to..."

Dante retrieved a condom from the pocket of his discarded coat. You smirked, looking back at him as he ripped the foil open and rolled it onto his cock. "You were prepared..." Dante smiled as he rubbed his cockhead slow and torturous to your entrance, "Well...when you're irresistible like me...you have to..."

You laughed but moaned as he filled you to the brim with no mercy. You were aware it might be a stretch and burn given how big he was, but fuck, he was splitting you open. Dante knew you could handle it; he gripped your hips, pulling back all the way out, just leaving his tip in and slamming back in with full force. You moaned loudly and drooled; he knew he had found your sweet spot, and he kept thrusting at the same pace, hitting the same right spot. You cried as Dante held both your wrists in one hand to arch your back, hitting deep and hard. He spoke, not even breaking a sweat. You couldn't see him, but you were sure he had that stupid grin on his face, "liking it rough, strong baby?"

You drooled, "Loving it...yes! Yes!" Dante knew you were close and slowed down...to tease you. You cried, and he set his pace back to fast again until you came all around him. Your body went limp; it was one of the best sex you had. You were satisfied, but...you felt him lifting your body up like a rag doll. He pressed your back to his chest, and he kissed your neck hard, making you cry. While one of his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you in place, his other hand was rubbing and circling your clit, two fingers parting your fold to sink you down his length, and you cried in pleasure as he used you like a rag doll, bouncing you on his cock... a pressure on your clit, and you came crashing again. You were so tired and overstimulated. You begged, "Fuck...it enough..."

Dante smirked as he deposited you on his bed and climbed over you. His hand fondling your tits, "Just one more, baby..."

You could barely protest, and he sank himself in again, pressing you into a mating press, your legs close to your tits and nails raking his back. He kept thrusting in, slow when you were close and fast when your orgasm was again building. You poor pussy was sore and abused; you were in heaven, drooling and fucked senseless. You cried, "Let me cum ...Dante." Dante kissed your lips as he buried himself deep rutting; your pussy clenched around him as you both came together.

You were limp in his sheets, your eyes shut. Dante withdrew himself, taking off the condom, tying it, and throwing it in the dustbin.

You were asleep; he didn't blame you. He maybe overdid it. He had sex again after years; he didn't mind if you stayed a bit long. He craved human warmth but thought himself too filthy to deserve it. Especially from someone as wonderful as you. But if you asked for it, he would make sure no one ever came close. He will ruin it for you forever; this is all he does, ruin everything for everybody.

Dante looked at you naked in his bed; you were soft and sweet. You tugged his heartstrings. He sat up to walk up to the bathroom and bring you a towel. He cleaned your chest and your legs and changed to the cleaned sheets. He didn't mind you staying; he was lonely after all.

Dante came downstairs to hop in for a quick shower. After a cold shower, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was ageing? Dante never knew how he would age. How much? Or how long he will live? He knew he was old. But given his quick healing and regeneration abilities, he cannot exactly slump into old age. No, even he was aware of this much biology. It needed his cell to stop dividing. But they divided and regenerated perfectly, given Vergil stabbed him just yesterday.

He remembers the little talk he and Vergil had in hell that Dante won't grow old or beyond a point. If his healing and regeneration abilities are uncompromised, he can't be old. Maybe it was just stress and depression which made Dante look older than Vergil.

Dante sighed. He changed into his Henley and sweatpants to walk out into his office. You were already on the red leather couch, wearing his t-shirt and with the pizza he ordered in your lap. You spoke with your mouth full, "Pizza again?"

He walked to you, leaned down and kissed your lips. "Yeah..." You smiled at him, "Remove your shirt..." Dante raised his eyebrow, "My! My! Demanding and hungry minx?" You smiled as he removed his shirt, and you stood up to check his back, no traces of your nails; you had just dug them in an hour ago in his back.

You sat back. Dante noticed the lack of hickeys and bite marks on your neck as well. You both looked at each other. You broke the silence, "How old are you?" Dante laughed, "Umm…let's see...near my mid-forties..." You frowned, "Be honest; I know you can heal...you don't have to hide it..."

Dante was confused. "Yeah...but I'm telling you the truth..." You spoke scoffing, "C'mon! I remember seeing you in London; it was the year 1875! My memory is clear as day!" Dante shouted; he was baffled, "What!? What are you talking about...1875!"

You nodded, "Yeah, you regenerate and heal just like me! That's why you cannot die! You're immortal, just like me!" Dante blinked. "Yeah...I do...but...I'm not like you! 1875! How old are you?"

You sank into the couch; you blew your cover, if you knew anything. It was how important it was to conceal...you blew your 2000-year-old perfect cover. Because you followed your heart, what an idiot! You looked at him, "I think I need my pills!" Dante looked at you unsure, "Pills…?" You laughed, "Yeah, pills, I have these episodes! You see, I have a medical condition...I will just take clothes and go!" You were making your way to the door, but Dante stopped you, holding your arm. "Okay, you can keep your clothes; just let me go."

By now, you can see all the Devil Arms this man has and his reputation. You were sure you were not a match for him. Of course, you won't go down without a fight. But such a man is someone you would rather not be enemies with.

Dante looked at you concerned, "You can tell me." His eyes were soft and deep, like he saw himself as a freak of nature, in the similar way you did. They were vulnerable. You let out a sigh and started, "It's a long story..."

It was morning, and Dante was beyond confused; there were so many stories, and you two were drinking. You were drunk and laughed, "Soo...the man I saw a century ago in London...." Dante nodded, "That's right, he was my father, Sparda..." You nodded in understanding, "Son of Sparda, I see...that's why sex was so good?" Dante laughed, sipping his whisky. "Hey...those were my skills; don't pull my father into this....ewww!" You laughed, "Ewww? Listen to this! I'm glad I didn't get laid with your father back then; it would have been awkward otherwise..."

Dante covered his ears, "No! No! No!" You laughed sipping your beer, you sighed and thought, "But your mother must be something...2000 years alone, and then she made sense to him..." Dante was serious now and nodded, "Yeah...she was pretty darn amazing..."

You looked at Dante with gleaming eyes, "You're amazing too..." Dante shook his head, "Not more than you, Miss 2K..." You laughed and swatted his arm, "That was so bad!" You both laughed. And now you were yearning to find what Sparda found.

With time, Dante and you paired on missions. You both can take as many hits and casualties. You both came to understand each other in ways. No one can...you can understand that Dante is immortal, just like you, unless he is killed through some extreme means. He isn't dying. If he can heal and regenerate. He isn't getting any older. Or so you wanted to believe.

No matter how deeply or conveniently you loved someone. There was always a pain in your heart, a sorrow that stayed.

If he was just like you, it removed so many issues you had; you were anyway falling for him more and more. He was too. You spoilt him rotten with gifts and paid bills; after all, you had all the money in the world.

You didn't know what to make of it. But Dante felt right; he felt perfect. Everything with him had so much potential. And for Dante, you were the biggest repellent to his biggest fear. You cannot die. No one can ever take you away from him, no matter how cursed he was.

It was a weird situation, a convenient arrangement which didn't need love, only companionship. But there was love, and being loved means being missed so terribly.

You were in bed with Dante, an opulent big bed with four posts and curtains draped; it felt like a room out of Versailles. Dante took his surroundings as you two were cuddling after sex and hummed, "Let them eat cake?" You laughed, "She wasn't the best or blameless, but she never said it..."

Dante was surprised. "So you were there?" You kissed his knuckles. "Yeah, but made it out of there in time... back to London."

Dante thought, "And where were you originally from?" You thought and shrugged, "I don't remember. I kept walking for the longest. I'm pretty sure after my first 'death', I was in Uruk... but where I was exactly born..." You shrugged... Dante nuzzled your shoulder and kissed your neck... "I see..."

Dante looked at the wall in front, a painting he couldn't recognise, but he was sure it was real and vintage. He spoke unsure, "I always thought... how my father walked upon this land for 2000 years...and now I met someone...who also did...what was it like?"

You thought, "You want to die for sure...like everyone else...but you also do not want to...it's weird, and then you just learn to pass by. After all...after so many years, nothing makes sense, and you understand nothing ever will. All those empires, people, and power, gone. Changed by something very similar...yet claiming to be different. It is just all a matter of ... time." You looked up at him with a smile and soft eyes.

Dante was looking around your duplex; he saw all the degrees on the wall… He thought, "Not much considering 2000 years." You laughed as you looked at those degrees as well, "Yeah...for the most part, I was a woman and not allowed in any universities, if that makes sense..." Dante nodded, "When you became a demon hunter?"

You kept looking at degrees, "Always was...just on the sidelines. Always the main business, but never the main business, if that makes sense..." Dante nodded, "It does..."

You walk down to the living room and think, your eyes looking at Dante, who was putting his guns back in his holster to leave. Your heart felt heavy, "Dante..."

He turned and looked at you, "Yeah?" You walked up to him and looked at his eyes. "I love you..." Dante was a little taken aback, not surprised but unsure. "I love you too, Y/N. But what does love even mean to you, though?" Dante always thought this, as he thought of all the lovers you had and what it amounted to. Maybe he was insecure or jealous, but in this life, he was never anything fully. He needed to be something.

You took a long sigh, holding both of his hands in yours. You looked into those icy blue eyes; you knew the answer, "Whatever it meant for your father to fall in love with your mother ...." Dante was quiet, so quiet, you weren't sure if you did the right thing. He just nodded; he had no doubt in his mind that his father loved his mother. He perished loving her.

You waited as Dante opened his mouth to speak but was quiet again. He thought, how did his mother knew if it was the right decision? Was there a right decision? Didn't she die? But he was sure she would do it again knowing she would die. So he took a chance too.

Dante kisses your lips. "Move in with me..." You kissed his back, "I will..." 

"𝓦𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮?"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: (DMC5) Dante x Gender-neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Dante can't help but feel a little insecure when his body is losing itself at his old age

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, 1k word count & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: I had to make another one

💫𝒟𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒 “𝒮𝑜𝓃 𝒪𝒻 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒮𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒹𝒶”

Every day with you felt like a dream—waking up to you, while ignoring the countless calls ringing downstairs, eating with you. At the same time, you complain about his everlasting diet (boasts about having good skin even now), 

hanging out with you, when he should be doing work and adulting so that the devil may cry office does lose its power again since he can’t take on any job that doesn’t interest—he’s got standards he tells you, he’s not some easy man who’ll take any job that comes his way, it’s an insult that you would think that way about him.

At the beginning of the night, he takes off his boot, coat thrown somewhere that can keep it from falling from the floor—it ends up falling onto the floor anyway, in the middle of the night—The way you’d sigh and elbow him for hogging the blankets, the way he’d pull you closer anyway, muttering something about "have some chivalry" as if he were some kind of sleeping beauty.

You spent as long as you can remember with him in this cycle, going through many phases together. 

.

Now that he gets older, he can't help but get nostalgic. Back in the day, back when he was majestic (and still is), he looked like he was meant to be in Baywatch—and it isn’t his insane ego talking for him (it is). He remembered how you used to swoon over him (his words, not yours), watching with a look in your eyes that made your pupils look like hearts.

Which, in your interpretation, you don’t exactly remember you being as desperate and love-struck as he claims, though you did have a habit of lingering a little too long—but in your defence, that’s because you were worried about him. And he certainly won’t admit that he was projecting how he used to act onto you.

Ah. Those were the days he misses at times, yet somehow, you look even more attractive now than you did back then—something he’d say out loud, of course. (more differently and obnoxiously of saying it, "Guess my good looks finally rubbed off on you."). Even now, he still acts like the love-struck teenager he was back then.

But one of the few downsides of getting older was that he was prone to gaining a bit of weight, his body had the abs…just a little weight added onto (those pizzas were beginning to catch up with him in his 40s), staring at the mirror for a little. He usually would pout and try to get some reassurance from you, which you always gave. 

But today, he just felt strangely insecure over it, more than usual, so he finds himself not mentioning it to you.

He stands there a little longer than usual, fingers pressing against the slight softness where hard edges used to be. The mirror doesn’t lie—but then again, neither does time. He scowls at his reflection, as if sheer force of will could carve the years away.

“What are you doing?” 

You already knew what he was doing, but still had the courtesy to ask him, raising an eyebrow as you came out of the shower freshly clean and the smell of the body wash you use still radiating off.

Walking past Dante was in front of the full-length mirror—sitting on the edge of the bed as you take some lotion to put on your skin.

Dante huffs, crossing his arms as he finally tears his gaze away from the mirror. "Just admiring the view," he says, flashing you that same roguish grin that’s charmed you for decades—though now, the look in his eyes is similar to whenever he gets nightmares and he tries to persuade you otherwise.

Setting the lotion aside, you stand and cross the short distance between you, your fingers brushing his arm before sliding down to intertwine with his.  

"Admiring the view, huh?" you murmur, tilting your head. "Funny, because I was just thinking the same thing." Your other hand is going to cup his stubble cheek.

His smirk softens at your touch, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. He leans into your palm, the roughness of his stubble pricks against your skin like tiny dull needles.  

"Cheesy," he mutters, but there's no bite to it—just that quiet, rare fondness he reserves only for you. His fingers tighten around yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a slow, absent rhythm. 

“Takes one to know one.”

You press a kiss to his jaw, right where the stubble is the softest, and feel the way his breath hitches—just slightly, just enough for you to notice.  

Dante exhales through his nose, turning his head to catch your lips properly, his free hand coming up to tangle in your damp hair. He can't help but bring his lips pressed tightly against your lips.

His stubble scrapes against your skin, and it’s rough; you can’t help the small sigh that escapes you. Dante swallows it greedily, his other hand sliding down to grip your waist, fingers pressing into the dip of your spine like the desperate maiden he is.

Your free hand goes to the little space between you and traces the slight softness where his abs used to be more defined. 

Dante tenses for just a second—that split-second hesitation that betrays him more than any words could. But then your fingers spread wide, pressing possessively against the warm skin of his stomach, and something in his posture shifts. 

"Still feels the same," you murmur against his lips, dragging your hand up to feel the solid muscle beneath. 

His hands can’t help but be influenced by your own when his hand goes under the waistband of your clothing.

"You," you murmur against his mouth, "are still my favorite view."

Dante barely gives you a second to breathe before he’s kissing you harder, rough and desperate, his hands sliding under your clothes like he can’t get close enough.

"You’re gonna kill me one day," he mutters, pulling your hand off his cheek, grinning as he presses his face right in your neck—the hairs pricking your neck nicely.

If you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

touch-starved

summary: dante is touch-starved, and he thinks the only way for him to feel something is to get punched by you pairing: dante x afab!reader | based on the netflix version but definitely canon divergent warnings: dry humping, unprotected p in v, creampie, degradation kink, very light choking, lots of swearing, kind of soft dom dante if you squint, idiots in love, friends to lovers, bit of praise, fem bodied reader w/c: ~3.2k

a/n: this is definitely not my best work but it's a warm up ig. lol anyway i absolutely loved the dmc netflix version, and i'm considering getting the games

"Punch me."

Not a question, but an indisputable demand coming from the demon hunter, which made you do a double take, place the barrel of your M4 carbine on the table, and flat-out refuse.

"No."

He snarled, yes, snarled at you, slamming his pistol against the table with a loud bang. You looked up from your own weapon, taken aback by Dante's reaction, concern written all over your face. Was he high??

"Come on, Y/N, just do it. Just one punch, one tiny little punch. I know you want to." His cocky grin did numbers on your nerves, but you still refrained from giving him the satisfaction of hitting him. It’s been years since you met Dante, by this point you were used to his shenanigans.

"Why, though?" You decided to focus on cleaning your weapon, the sharp smell of isopropyl alcohol filling the room.

"Because," Dante groaned, snatching the bottle of liquid from you, causing you to glare daggers at him, "I'm touch starved."

You blinked once, twice, trying your hardest to process both his honesty, and the logistics of his request.

"Why not ask for a hug, then? Or, I don't know, go to therapy?"

"Hah! I'm sure my therapist is gonna have a field day with me! So, my dad, a demon, disappeared without a trace, then my mother and twin brother died, but actually my brother is alive somewhere. My therapist is gonna need a therapist."

"Okay, okay, you made your point. Still, you could just rephrase it. Maybe leave out the demon bit." You wiped the barrel clean before setting it aside.

"I'd rather get punched. Now, please."

"Dante, a punch isn’t gonna solve it. Are you sure you don’t want a hug? I could cook you something. Or we could grab a few beers and watch a movie, or talk about your feelings." You shrugged.

Both of you had done this before — went out for drinks, danced, cooked together, fell asleep together — it was so intimate, almost like you were a couple. But the reality was that you weren’t. Not by a long shot. Unfortunately for you, Dante was protective of you in the way an older brother was. You thought that, perhaps, he missed Vergil so much that you were the closest thing he had to a sibling in years.

"A punch would be less time consuming. Cooome on, babe, just hit me!"

You hated when he called you babe. He called other girls babe, girls that were hot, pretty, girls that were his type, and it was the nickname that made you clench your jaw and purse your lips.

"Ugh, fine!" You sat up, rotated your wrist and flexed your fingers. "Are you sure this is going to help in any way?"

"Positive. Right here." Dante pointed at his cheek.

"What, in your face?"

"You're stalling."

Without a single ounce of hesitation you swung your arm, hitting the demon hunter square in his face, but it caused you more pain than it did him, and you stumbled back, holding your fist in your other hand.

"Son of a fucking bitch!" You cried out in pain, knowing damn well that would happen. Still, you couldn't say no to him. Ever.

"Are you okay?" Dante was visibly concerned — a rare sight since he was always cool and edgy, even when his own life was in danger.

"Fuck no! Feels like I punched a brick wall!" You practically growled at him, gaze quickly softening when you saw the pure look of terror in his eyes. "But hey, nothing a little ice can't fix, right?"

"Right." He nodded and got up, making a beeline for the freezer.

There was no ice in it, but there was a pack of frozen peas somewhere at the bottom of a drawer, which Dante picked up and brought to you. When you reached for it, he, instead, took your sore hand in his, gently pressing the cold legumes onto your knuckles. You winced, instinctively trying to retract your hand, but he held it in place, his fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop you from backing away.

The pain wasn't gone, but it was becoming bearable, and a relieved murmur escaped past your lips, one that sounded closer to a moan than a sigh. Dante's cheeks burned, tinted red with embarrassment and arousal because you were yet another girl in his life who just didn't want to be involved romantically with him. Not that he tried anything with you, because he always thought you deserved better. Sure, he was cocky and flirtatious, but he wasn't a dick. If no one reciprocated the flirting, he didn't push his luck. It was simple. And he wasn’t the type who did one-night stands, despite the rumours. Dante enjoyed having a connection to the people he took to bed, he became sexually attracted to those he knew on a deeper emotional level. But sometimes, when he was really, truly desperate, he would download Tinder and hook up with random girls.

And he reeked of desperation.

"Dante, you can let go of my hand now."  You told him, part of you hoping he wouldn't.

Who could blame you? He was an objectively attractive man, with a charming smile and a body sculpted by the gods themselves. Why would he ever want to get involved with you? Dante was your opposite — he talked, he sang, he danced, he was obnoxious. You were quiet, most of the time, and shy. In fact, when he first met you, he thought you had some form of speech impediment, with your nose in Boccaccio’s The Decameron, a book you stole from the public library because you were much too young to read. That’s when knew you were trouble, just like him.

"Yeah, of course." Dante stepped back. "How's your hand?"

"Better. How are you feeling?"

"Me? Why are you asking?"

"Hello?" You scrunched your nose and frowned. "You wanted me to punch you because you were touch-starved. Did it help?"

"I'll be honest, it felt more like a tickle than anything." He shrugged. "Are you sure you didn't pull your punch?"

There it was, the one thing that turned you from an introvert to a bat-shit crazy bitch — his stupid little mouth that he opened without ever thinking.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're telling me I risked breaking my bones so you could feel better, only for you to not feel anything? I swear to fucking God, Dante, this is the last time I'm doing anything nice for you."

"Nice? You punched me!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, while your blood boiled inside of you, sending you into a blind rage.

"You asked me to punch you, you maniac! You should've fucked me instead!"

Your eyes widened at the sentence that came out of your mouth without a single thought, mortified at your own stupidity.

"Hugged. I meant hugged. Shit."

"No, no, hold up, you didn't say hugged." Dante tilted his head, one hand rubbing his chin. "Isn't that called a Freudian slip?"

"I- well- how the fuck do you even know what a Freudian slip is?" You tried changing the subject but he didn't bite.

"Google." He closed the gap between the two of you, and for the first time you felt intimidated by him. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

The bluntness of his question, coupled with the sudden change in the pitch of his voice made you feel like a cornered prey. There was no possible way he was serious. But he wasn't wrong — the nature of your jobs made it impossible for either of you to have partners, and besides, you've known each other for years. It was only natural that some form of physical attraction would have developed between you two, right? But why you? Why now? And the worst of all your questions, why not?

You didn’t want to think about how this would ruin almost a decade of friendship. All you could think about was the look of pure lust in his eyes as he held your gaze, and how months upon months of sexual frustrations accumulated inside of you, bubbling and boiling and exploding when you dropped the pack of peas on the floor.

"Yes. I want you to fuck me."

Without a sliver of hesitation, you felt him pick you up with ease, hands roaming up and down his back as he slammed you down onto the table, desperately pushing away all the guns and knives. How thoughtful of him. Your hands slithered under his blood red coat while he tugged at your t-shirt, pulling it over your head to expose your bare breasts to him.

"No bra? Kinky." Dante stopped to take a better look at you.

"Stop talking." You firmly told him, but the chuckle that erupted from your throat betrayed you.

He was the one person you felt most comfortable around, so much so that you didn't feel weirded out by him pressing his lips onto your neck, or his fingertips bruising the plush of your hips, or his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples. No, it felt natural, too natural, like your skin was made to be touched by him.

With his coat on the floor, you tackled his shirt, effectively tearing it off of him because you were just as desperate as he was, and Dante pulled your body closer to his, your clothed cunt accidentally rubbing against the bulge in his trousers. You were aching from the lack of sex, and you uncontrollably moaned at the tiny bit of friction before mumbling a weak 'sorry.'

"Fuck, don't be. That's actually kind of hot." He shamelessly admitted, and you rose a brow.

"Yeah? Then you wouldn't mind me doing it again?" You chewed on your lower lip, but he could see past the fake innocence when you rolled your hips, frantically and feverishly rubbing your clit through the layers of fabric. "Shit, I could come just from this."

For a split second, Dante wondered if this was all real. What happened to your shyness? How was it possible that his best friend, the quiet, nerdy girl he'd known for such a long time, was worse than any demon he'd ever encountered? Not that he was a saint. Far from it, because when you threw your head back, desperate to climax, his is eyes darkened, black seeping into his sclera. It should've made you afraid, but it had the opposite effect. The thought that he could activate his Devil Trigger and quite literally snap you like a twig turned you on.

"Do it, then." Dante's hand snaked behind the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. "Show me just how needy you are."

Beads of sweat trickled down your forehead as you fucked yourself on the half-demon, fog settling in your brain with each breath, each movement, each beating of your heart. Faster. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster.

"Oh-" Any sentence you tried to utter stopped in your throat, replaced by a string of whimpers and curses. Whatever you were trying to babble was reduced to incoherent words.

"Well shit, I didn't know you were such a filthy little slut."

"Just- oh- shut up-"

"Hmm, I don't think you really want me to shut up." Dante sneered when you picked up the pace. "I think you like it when I talk like this."

"N-not true!" You yelped as he pinched your nipple, barely doing anything and yet you were a mess already.

"So, you don't want me to call you a fucktoy, then? Bet you're dripping right now. Bet you want me balls deep inside of you."

"Fuck, I'm gonna come!" You proved his point when your entire body quivered under his, mind blank and vision blurry.

"There, there." Dante pressed his lips onto your forehead. "I got you."

The noise of his belt unbuckling made you snap your eyes open, filling you with newfound desire and guilt — poor Dante, his cock was probably aching by now while you had the time of your life. He stepped back, letting his trousers pool at his feet, and you lifted your skirt to peel your panties off. You caught him staring at you, taking the sight in, and what a sight it was — locks of hair fell out of your bun, sticking to your sweaty temples, your legs still shaking from the orgasm, and your cunt dripping wet.

"I'd love to eat you out, babe, but my balls are genuinely gonna explode." He confessed, earning a giggle from you. Even with his eyes pitch black and his Devil Trigger on the verge of activating, Dante was still Dante. And you loved that about him.

"Hurry up and fuck me, then."

"Are you that desperate that you forgot your manners?" He dug his fingertips into the plush of your hips, violently pulling you closer to him.

"Please hurry up and fuck me?" You pouted.

"Good girl, that's better." Dante pushed your leg to the side with his elbow, dragging his cock up and down your slit.

You didn't get the chance to take a look at it, but the tip felt huge, so much so that you gasped, propping yourself on your elbows to see better, and you were not disappointed. In fact, you were concerned. You could not take it.

"Dante, it's not gonna fit."

He shook his head with a half-smile, finding your concern quite cute.

"I'll make it fit."

It was both a promise and a threat, but you trusted him. God, you trusted him with your life. He slowly and gently pushed the tip, your slick more than enough to lubricate his cock, but he stopped every time you looked uncomfortable to make sure you were okay.

"Tell me if it's too much."

"No, you can- it's fine, keep going." You closed your eyes, the discomfort causing you to clench around him instead of relaxing, which made Dande forget how to breathe or think.

But the worst came to a halt when he was fully in, stopping briefly to allow you to accommodate to the size. Your breathing went back to normal soon enough, and the last ounce of pain in your body was swiftly replaced by a surge of electricity when Dante moved, slowly and softly rolling his hips, unable to abstain any longer. And you didn't want him to when his cock filled you up so good, reaching places you didn't even know existed inside of your body. Your fingernails dug into his back, clawing at his skin with desperation and impatience, like you needed more than what he was already giving you.

"See? I told you I’ll make it fit. And you take me so well." Dante said, dragging his mouth over your neck, your scent overloading his senses.

But it just wasn't enough. No matter how painful, you wanted it-

"Harder."

Assertive, demanding, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he pulled back to look at you, as if not believing your request.

"A minute ago, you were wriggling in pain, now you want it harder?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation. "I want it harder, faster, please-"

You were shushed by two digits forcing open your mouth, and you instinctively wrapped your lips around them, sucking obediently.

"You talk too much." He gave you a taste of your own medicine. "Should've known you were just a dumb little cocksleeve."

The degrading words caused you to moan and drool around his fingers, tears welling up in your eyes. Each thrust had you clench tighter, the tip of his ridiculously large cock punishing your cervix. Pain and pleasure bubbled inside of you, sparking through your body as Dante practically ripped his fingers from your mouth, only to wrap them around your throat. He was a hungry man, and you were dinner — arching your back to get closer, deeper, you fucked yourself on his cock with his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, and he revelled in your worship.

"Shit, you like it when it hurts, don't you?" He whispered, squeezing harder while you nodded eagerly. "Of course you do."

Of course you did. How could you not when he fucked you so good that your dignity and modesty were long forgotten? When Dante stripped you of your decency to bring out the worst in you? You felt your second orgasm build up, causing you to twitch under him, eyes rolling back as you slipped your hands under his arms, holding on for dear life.

"Again- gonna come again, Dante! Fuck!"

"Atta girl." He held your quivering body, his own hips stuttering, brutally thrusting into you with raw, animalistic passion.

You came undone on his cock, fingers carding through his hair, pushing away white locks to look at his pretty eyes while his arm slithered under your lower back to both support you and bring you closer to him. Dante was close, his throbbing cock still stretching your sore cunt out. He bucked his hips, splitting you open while you latched your arms around his neck, tits pressed against his chest and your lips ghosting over his earlobe.

"Almost there, babe." Dante promised. "You're doing so well." He pulled back, nearly on edge, but you squeezed your legs tighter around his waist.

"Don't pull out." You demanded, and that was enough to help him reach enlightenment.

He filled you up, and when he did pull out, watching his cum slowly leak out of you, you could've sworn he whispered 'marry me' under his breath. Surely it was just the brain fog, or the post-orgasm high. Your whole body was numb, and you stumbled into Dante's arms when you tried to get down from the table, muscles sore and aching.

"You wanna get pizza?" He nonchalantly asked, as if he didn't just fuck his best friend.

"I- shouldn't we talk about this?" You avoided looking into his eyes, opting to stare at the floor instead.

"About what?"

God, he was either insufferably oblivious or remarkably good at pretending.

"Us." You sighed.

"What's there to talk about?" Dante's fingers found your chin, and he gently lifted it up, forcing you to look at him.

"Don't make this harder for me, please. You know things won’t be the same now. We’re not in a relationship and-"

"I don't follow." Confusion was written all over his face. "Do you not want to be my girlfriend?"

"Girl- I- hold up, what? Do you want me to be your girlfriend?" You tilted your head, baffled by his question, because of course you wanted to. You just never had the guts to admit that you like him. It was even more shocking that he liked you back. Wasn’t this all just a one-time thing?

"I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious when I fucked you. What, you thought I nut and dip? That I shoot a load and go back on the road? That I cum n go?"

"Wow, please never use those euphemisms ever again." You cringed at his words, trying your best to hide the smile that crept on your lips.

"Christ, babe, you know I don't do one-night stands unless I’m really desperate. And here I thought you were my best friend. Guess I was wrong." Dante gasped, dramatically feigning offence by placing a hand on his chest.

"I’m not your best friend anymore." You said, voice serious and cold, and his charade was quickly replaced by actual worry and offence. "I'm your girlfriend now. And your best friend."

"Okay, I was genuinely concerned. Fuck you." He flipped you off and you sneered.

"You already did."

"Wait, that's my line!"

"Skill issue."

How you accidentally made Dante look like a hero again

Pairing: Dante x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: All you wanted was to outsmart Dante and prove he was setting you up for demon attacks in order to get closer to you. Instead, you ended up buried under library rubble, fighting off scorpion demons, and getting saved by him — again. This is why you have trust issues.

Warnings: swearing, kinda enemies to lovers dynamic, I just love Dante y'all need to have mercy with me lol

You’re starting to think you’re cursed.

That’s the only explanation for it. How else do you keep ending up in demon-infested alleys, haunted casinos, and - once - dangling upside down from a stolen motorcycle, twice in the same week? No average person deserves so much distress.

But even worse: every time - every damn time - there’s Dante.

Bursting in like he’s auditioning for an action movie. Guns blazing, coat flaring behind him, a cocky smirk plastered across his stupidly handsome face.

God, how much you hate that guy.

…do you?

"Oh no," you mutter under your breath when you spot him swaggering through the chaos yet again.

"Not this asshole."

"Miss me, babe?" he calls, spinning his sword once before cleaving a demon in half like it's no big deal.

You barely dodge a flying claw, pretty used to almost dying by now.

"Dante, why are there hellhounds in the laundromat?! I just came here to do my laundry!"

He winks at you like this is all part of some grand romantic plan.

"You know. Crazy city. You never know what’s gonna happen. Nice panties by the way, wish I could see them up close."

You stare at him, sceptical to say the least, as he shoots a demon that was two inches away from biting your head off.

"This is the fourth time this month. And every time you're 'coincidentally' nearby!"

He strolls over, casually beheading something with his sword like he's just stretching his legs. How many times have you seen this already? Probably like a hundred times.

This month.

"Fate works in mysterious ways, sweetheart."

You gawk at him. No, the thing he calls fate can’t be an accident. There is literally no way in hell that you get attacked even more often than himself. There has to be another reason. Could it be that…?

"Are you setting this up?!"

He gives you a look, all fake innocence and devilish grin.

That bastard.

"Who, me? Nahhh. Demons just have a thing for damsels. Lucky for you... I'm a professional knight in shining armor."

A piece of ceiling collapses dangerously close to you. You flinch for once. Dante doesn’t even blink, just throws an arm around your waist and throws you out of the way with way too much enthusiasm.

You land on your back with a grunt, staring up at the cracked ceiling and wondering what life choices led you here. Where did you take a wrong turn to deserve this? Being liked by a hot guy is all fun and games until the name of that jerk is Dante Sparda, apparently.

Dante leans over you, upside-down, grinning like a maniac.

"You good? Need mouth-to-mouth?" he offers helpfully.

You shove him off you, the heat of his body almost devouring you whole.

"I’m getting a restraining order."

"You say that, but then who’s gonna save you next time you almost get eaten by a possessed vending machine?"

You open your mouth to argue - and realize you have no idea how to deal with possessed vending machines. You groan, burying your face in your hands.

“Maybe you’re the one who possesses everything around me…”

Dante pats your head fondly like you’re some kind of beloved but very dumb kitten.

"You mean like your thoughts? Most definitely, yeah. But don't worry, babe," he coos cheerfully, "I'll always be there to save your pretty little ass."

You’re pretty sure that’s supposed to be comforting. Instead, you start mentally drafting your will.

“Get off me now, I need to get going jerk. And stop staring at my panties”, you hiss through gritted teeth while getting up, packing your things and leaving.

No, this isn’t an accident, not your fault by any means. Dante is the one who sets all of this shit up.

“That fucker…”, you mutter to yourself, slamming the door shut in fury.

You can’t do this anymore, can’t take seeing a demon each time you leave your house. You’ll have to teach him a lesson.

Yes, there has to be a way to stop this madness once and for all.

“I’ll catch you mid-act, Dante…”

You hatch a plan.

A pretty simple one: bait Dante into showing up, catch him red-handed, and finally prove he's arranging all this chaos.

You pick the most boring, demon-unfriendly place you can think of: the public library. No shady alleys, no creepy neon signs, no way in hell anything supernatural is hanging out between the tax law section and the dusty romance novels.

You text him a fake tip, something about "possible demonic activity" near the library, totally urgent, definitely needs his professional attention.

Then you sit back, tuck yourself into a corner with a stack of books, and wait.

Ten minutes pass. Twenty. Thirty.

No Dante.

You start to relax. Maybe he finally got the hint. Maybe he's actually busy for once. Did your words from yesterday finally stir something inside of his brain?

And that's when the ceiling caves in.

You shriek as a massive scorpion demon crashes through the roof, scattering books and terrified civilians everywhere. Librarians are running for their lives. An entire row of encyclopedias explodes in a puff of dusty chaos, taking your sight while you desperately try to crawl out of the scene.

Fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen. That definitely wasn’t written on your bingo card for today.

"What the hell?!" you shout, diving behind a bookshelf just in time before a whole fucking shelf bumps onto the ground next to you.

"HEY BABY!" a too-familiar voice yells from somewhere in the smoke.

You peek out and see Dante standing atop the checkout desk, dual pistols in hand, grinning like this is the best day of his life.

"Miss me?"

You stare at him, speechless. No, this has to be a dream. This was supposed to be a trap, you set him off in order to finally find him guilty. And now this?

"HOW?!"

He jumps off the desk, unloading a round of bullets into the demon's face like it’s a casual Tuesday.

"You sent me the text! Good instincts, by the way - I was gonna ignore it, but then I figured, ‘Hey, if my girl’s around, probably gonna be some action.’ And look! Action!"

You dodge a flying claw and seriously consider strangling him with a library card cord.

"I SENT YOU A FAKE TEXT!" you shout over the sound of gunfire.

"THERE WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE A REAL DEMON!"

"Aw," Dante replies, kicking a demon minion into a copy machine, "you’re so modest. You’re like a magnet for this stuff."

You have no time to argue. The giant scorpion is bearing down on you. You grab the nearest weapon, a hardcover dictionary about curse words in Spanish, and hurl it at its head. It bounces off harmlessly. Yeah, what a surprise, actually.

Dante whistles low, impressed.

"Good arm, babe. But here - lemme show you how it's done."

Before you can blink, he’s in front of you, sword flashing, doing some ridiculously show-offy spin move that absolutely wasn’t necessary but looks cool as hell anyway.

The demon collapses with a final screech.

Silence falls over the destroyed library.

Books smolder, paper flutters in the air like sad confetti. Somewhere, a printer makes a pathetic beep before dying.

You sit down heavily on the floor, dazed.

Dante strolls over, all proud, offering you a hand up.

"No need to thank me. It’s kinda my thing."

You stare at him, mind still processing what just happened. Your mission failed – miserably, so say the least.  

"I literally TRIED to set you up."

"And look how well it worked!" he declares brightly.

"You lured out the bad guys! You're a natural at this demon-hunting stuff. I'm so proud."

You want to punch him. You want to kiss him. You want to punch him then kiss him.

Instead, you let him pull you to your feet, dusting off your scorched jacket.

"I'm never texting you again," you grumble.

"Sure you will," Dante coos, flashing that stupid, charming grin.

"You can't resist me."

You open your mouth to argue - and immediately get tackled to the ground as a second, smaller demon leaps from the wreckage.

You land with a painful thud, pinned beneath Dante’s weight as he shoots over your head, finishing off the last monster.

When the danger’s over, he stays there for an awkward beat too long, smirking down at you.

"See? Told ya. Always there to catch ya when you fall."

You groan, covering your face with your hands while absolutely hating how good his body weight feels on top of you, how surprisingly good that asshole of a man smells.

"I'm going to die of second-hand embarrassment."

"Nah," Dante retorts confidently, getting up and pulling you with him again.

"If anyone’s gonna kill you, it’s gonna be something way cooler. Like a demon. Or a possessed espresso machine."

You squint at him.

 "You’re not gonna let this go, are you?"

He slings an arm around your shoulders like he owns the place, like the ablaze library isn’t his fault at all, and leads you toward the exit.

"Nope. You're stuck with me, sweetheart."

You sigh.

Maybe getting a new phone and a new name wouldn’t be the worst idea.

…Or just giving in.

𝘪 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦

dante/f!reader

summary: after it took so long to get over him, you end up in his arms again

word count: 3.1k

warnings: sex pollen/fuck or die, dubcon, breeding (one-sided), reader is not of sound mind for most of this

Not-so-newly single but only recently starting to get over it, your night out was supposed to end differently. Alone at the very least, in bed with someone else as the true best ending of this scenario — but not back in bed with your ex. The friends you’d gone out with would be so disappointed should they hear that Dante had managed to weasel back into your apartment after you spent two weeks looking at the tshirts he’d left behind before finally throwing them into a box that lived in your closet. They wouldn’t believe it was a life or death situation that had you clinging to Dante in an alley, it sounded so stupid. “Hey guys, some demon attacked me on my way home haha!” 

Crazy. Certifiably insane, even. To say that a demon attacked, sprayed you with…something and as a result you fucked your ex like a rabbit in heat until you passed out from exhaustion was a first class, one-way ticket to a mental institution. 

But that was the unfortunate truth.

The night had started in the club, you’d finally accepted the invitation to go out and get over Dante. Losing your hot kinda-boyfriend was truly a tragedy but it was time to move on and stop grieving the relationship and alcohol was the way to do it. The goal was to get into bed with someone else, a good lay to get over it before trying to secure a rebound — but even just dancing your problems away would’ve been a good use of your time. 

The music was loud, bass and drums rattling your ribcage and you were having fun. A couple people danced with you, one guy was actually very attractive and you were hoping something could come of it — which was why you agreed to leave with him. Your hand in his and a wave to your friends as they whistled and cheered you on, all proud that you’d taken a huge step in getting over Dante. 

That was the last time that night you truly felt like you were in control. 

He lived only a few blocks away from the club, so you didn’t mind walking with him to cool off a bit and get to know him some more. His name was Kyle, he worked as a bouncer at another club in town, and he was also getting over a bad breakup. He was cute, told bad jokes that you couldn’t help but laugh at, and it felt like there was a chemical reaction happening between you two which gave you hope that maybe this could stretch past just a one night stand. 

Until the demon appeared. 

Dante had told you enough about his line of work that you were aware of demons and hell being real rather than just something put in the Bible to scare people into “behaving”. You also knew that you stood no chance if you were ever toe-to-toe with one without the white haired menace acting as your protector — and quickly learned that Kyle stood no chance either. 

The sound of his pained screaming registers moments after the demon struck, and you can only stand in horror and watch the…creature claw at him until the screaming finally stops. You couldn’t help, but you were next in line to get ripped apart in the well lit alley by the monster that looked a bit like an insect. Maybe a cicada? Or a locust?

A sweet smell wafts through the air, lavender and — was that vanilla? Or maybe a cake-y smell? Too sweet for an alley but your thoughts start to scramble and it feels too hot now. You want to leave, but your feet are rooted to the asphalt below your shoes and you don’t know where you would go if you could leave? Were you supposed to be anywhere but here in front of this creature that was clearly meant to be your mate?

“Chosen.”

The whisper sends a shiver down your spine; it feels so wrong yet also calms you at the same time. You were chosen by such a wonderful creature, a superior life form chose you to be its mate. To carry its offspring and produce a new, stronger generation.

Chosen. You. Only you. Special girl. A strong girl. 

“Chosen.”

“And here I thought I had squished enough bugs tonight.”

That voice was familiar, comfortable — safe? Possibly. 

But he was now driving his foot through your intended mate’s head. That wasn’t good. 

“The only thing she’s chosen for is a long life and good night of sleep.”

You can only watch, horrified as the owner of the apparently safe voice hacked and slashed at your mate. It must be customary for two males to compete to prove dominance to the fertile female, because your mate fought until he finally fell to the familiar white haired man. 

“...I thought he’d be crunchier. Oh well.”

“You killed him.” Your whisper brings his attention from the corpse back to you, and he moves quickly to stand before you as he talks. You don’t really hear what he’s saying, too focused on the gory scene deeper in the alley, until he’s kneeling in front of you with his hands carefully holding your shoulders as he tries to hold your attention. 

“Hey, hey, it’s me — can you hear me?”

“You?”

“Me. Dante. C’mon, honey, talk to me.”

“Dante?” That was familiar. You know the name, know how it connects to the voice, the eyes, the lips. Dante, he used to be your lover — he could be a mate. He could help you fulfill your purpose. “Need-“

“Yeah, baby, I’ll get you home.”

Home sounded good. Sounded right. 

“Need you to fuck-”

“Not right now, a pretty girl like you needs to be put to bed properly.”

He’s able to throw you over his shoulder and stand effortlessly, and your loins are practically singing at how lucky you were to have been selected by two capable mates and the more capable one was carrying you home. He was going to bed you, breed you as you were born for – you! 

The walk to your apartment feels long, and is made kinder by the way his hands held you firmly on his shoulder. One large arm wrapped around your waist to keep you secured to his shoulder, fingers of that hand pressing into your side to maintain a good grip while his other hand rested on your ass — and you assume there’s no functional reason for that hand to be there aside from just feeling you, and that thought makes you giddy at the thought that he found you attractive. This strong man, your mate, was admiring your child-bearing hips. Did he feel the warmth of your core through your jeans? Did he know just how badly you wanted him, how slick you’d gotten just being in his hold?

You’re set down on your feet once your apartment door is open, but the world around you is spinning which makes staying upright near impossible. Thankfully Dante is there to steady you, letting you lean forward into his sturdy figure as he guides you backwards into your apartment. 

“Did that bug hit you or something? Did you swallow something?”

You shake your head, but your hands move of their own accord to his belt to get to what you needed. He was going to breed you, you could help him get undressed. 

“H-hang on. You’re not okay enough for-“

“I was chosen.” 

“You were basically drugged.”

You don’t know why he’s arguing with you — he fought your mate to win you. He was supposed to be breeding you right now, claiming you as his mate, but now he’s not? Did you do something wrong? The thought pierces through your core, almost as if your womb itself was getting prodded at by a sharp blade in search of the most vulnerable part. 

“Oh, shit, please don’t cry.”

“Hurts.”

“What hurts?” Your shaky hand grips his wrist, guiding his hand from where it rests on your arm to settle over your stomach where it felt like you were getting stabbed repeatedly. The warmth of his hand soothes the pain but only barely, a whine leaving you when his fingertips press into the soft skin of your stomach in an attempt to massage you. “Let’s get you laid down. I’ll stay tonight and if you’re not better by morning we’ll figure that out.”

You’re reluctant to agree, but let him guide you to your bedroom while his hand stays planted on your stomach. You feel much better after he’s gotten you out of your clothes, opting to stay in just your bra while telling Dante that clothes made you too hot. At least you think that’s what you said, his confused expression suggested that he didn’t understand what it was you said but that was a problem for later. Right now you were feeling too hot, too empty, and you needed him to keep touching you.

“Hurts, Dante.”

“I don’t know how to help you, honey.”

“Touch me.” 

He had to. He chose you, he brought you home, he had to breed you. Claim you. He could make this all better if he did what he was supposed to do as your mate. 

You can only stare at him as he looks away from your half naked body, clearly thinking hard about something. Was he second guessing his choice? Did he-

“The bug blasted you with pheromones. That’s the same bug that…oh.” Your head tilts in unison with his, legs opening wider when he leans in closer to make room for him. “You're so horny this likely won’t register but if I don’t make you cum you will die from those pheromones.”

Didn’t he understand that you’d been asking him to fuck you all this time? Had you really been chosen by such a stupid man to be his mate?

“Please, Dante.” The whisper leaves you as his hand settles on your thigh, the other carefully pushing you back onto your mattress while he mumbles assurance that he was going to take care of you.

Your mouth falls open when his fingers push between your folds, the pain in your core dulled slightly by the stretch. This was what your body had needed — him, Dante, your mate. He was to claim you and ease the pain finally. A forearm is pressed to your hip, those two fingers that were once stretching you open are now parting your folds, and you sigh when his tongue slides through to lap at your essence while his thumb circles your already over-sensitive clit. 

The orgasm crashes over you before you could process it, your hands moving to his hair to try and pull him closer and give you more. Instead, his other hand comes to replace his tongue, two fingers pushing into your cunt easily while his thumb continues to play with your clit. 

“Are you going to cum again already?” He sounds amused, but you can’t formulate the words that you need to tell him that he was right. “Let me have it, honey. Cum for your mate.”

He keeps your hips pinned down through their attempts to roll and buck, what sounds like praise being mumbled into your pussy further soothing the pain in your womb. This was what you needed, and he was taking care of you like he had promised — as a mate should. You just needed him to fill you now, fill you and keep you full and breed you. 

“Dante, please,” you whimper, meeting his gaze and biting your lip as you watch him lick his. “Need you inside me.”

“Seems like you’re doing better.”

You nod your agreement; your skin didn’t feel as hot or itchy as it had previously and your brain doesn’t feel as foggy as it had previously. There were questions starting to form regarding Dante’s presence that you’d get answers for later, but the pain in your core still lingered and that needed to be addressed. 

“Still need me to fuck you?”

You nod, perhaps a bit too eagerly if the way he smirks at you is any indicator, but are rewarded by his hands releasing your hips so he could get himself undressed. You want to help, but are stopped by the sheer eroticism of Dante stripping himself of the various straps and belts that kept his weapons attached to his clothes. This was a man who was strong and capable, willing to protect you and proved earlier that he would succeed in doing so, and he was going to fuck you. 

…and then you’d remember why you were mad at him, hopefully. You’re not even sure where the thought came from, but there was a nagging feeling at the back of your mind telling you that you were very upset with the man who was now kneeling between your spread legs – you just couldn’t quite remember what you were mad at him for. 

The blunt tip of his cock coming to rest between your folds has your eyes closing your fingers digging into the soft linens beneath you as he presses forward and stretches you. There’s no time or consideration for adjustments, you’d wager that Dante had trusted in how wet you were and how much he’d prepped you – and you’re not complaining since this is what you needed.

“Just stay put,” he breathes into your ear, his hand taking yours and pressing it into the pillow beside your head. He’s still moving his hips against yours even as he speaks, the heat and desperation radiating off of him in waves as he presses a kiss to your cheek before he gently bites at your jawline. “Stay put and let me take care of us, will you do that?”

You nod, your compliance earning you another kiss before he’s pulling out. Before you have the chance to complain, he’s turning you over and pulling your hips up so you’d be propped up on your knees in front of him before he’s pushing back into you. There was no gentleness, no careful consideration of your human fragility, this was Dante on a mission to get you off and hopefully stop the pain that was still throbbing at your center and serving as a reminder that you were still unfilled. His hands grip your hips hard enough that you’re certain there would be ten little bruises decorating your skin later, and he muffles his own sounds of pleasure by biting into your shoulder, it hurts but in the best way possible as he fucks into you at a brisk pace that had your headboard knocking into the wall. 

“You feel so good, y’know that?” he breathes into your ear, every other word punctuated by a grunt that makes you weaker than the one before. There’s a new heat burning inside you, this one you knew how to cope with and were glad it was Dante making you feel this way. “Missed you s’much, princess. Glad I’m here with you. Savin’ your life and all that.”

“Can you shut up for ten minutes?” You ask, your voice rising in pitch when his fingers make contact with your sensitive clit. You needed more but at the same time it felt like too much, and that has you arching back into him at the feeling of the rough pads of his fingers against the nerve bundle. “Fuck!”

“Stop runnin’, baby,” he chides, pressing his face into your neck to ensure you felt his chuckle in your skin. “Gonna make you cum, gonna make you feel better.”

This time you stay put when his fingers graze your clit, and you feel all coherent thoughts leave you as your body continues to rock with his as his fingers begin rubbing quick circles while his thrusts increase in pace. All that mattered was him, Dante, your stupid ex not-quite-boyfriend, and your approaching orgasm – anything else would have to wait until you could breathe normally again. A thrust punctuated by a pinch to your clit has your body going rigid beneath his, and he’s talking you through the orgasm until his own hips stutter and he pulls out to release on your ass.

“You were supposed to–” 

“You are probably crazy fertile right now and the last thing we need is a baby.” The logic is sound even if the ache in your womb said otherwise. He was going to have to recall the last hour or two to help you piece together the scattered memories you did retain, but you know he’s looking out for your best interest. “More importantly, do you feel better?” 

“A bit.” There was still the ache but you didn’t feel like you were being stabbed anymore, and you could think a hundred times more clearly than you were previously, you’re confident you could manage the rest of the night. It was probably that the more you could orgasm the faster it would go away if he wasn’t going to cum inside you. Which was also smart, even if you hated that you were giving him credit for a good idea. 

“Give me ten minutes and we can go again if you want.”

“Clean your cum off my ass first and I’ll think about it.”

“Always makin’ me work.”

Looking back, it still feels like a fever dream but you know that pain was too real. Your body was too sore after going round after round with Dante until well after sunrise with a couple naps scattered between for your night to have gone in any other direction. 

And now you’re sitting naked on your couch with said ex as he drank coffee from the mug that had always been his. Crazy, stupid, and just plain dumb. After it took so long to get over him, here you were – and all because of a stupid bug demon. 

“Are you gonna keep starin’ at me or do I have to fuck you again?”

“Why are you still here?”

“Makin’ sure we got it all out of your system, silly girl. Can’t have you going out and fucking the first person you see.” He even has the nerve to tease you — after he broke up with you. Just because he saved your life didn’t mean that he could act like that. 

“Why not?”

“You’re not that kind of girl, even if you tried to be last night. Yes, I was keeping an eye on you — that dude in the true religion was not your type. Too douchey.”

“I dated you.” 

“At least I don’t walk around covered in rhinestones like I’m trying to be the disco ball.”

“You stalked me.”

“Bet you’re glad I did, otherwise you would’ve been a demon’s fleshlight and then its dinner. Or worse, left to die in that alley.” 

You did remember how much it had hurt before Dante finally gave you what you needed, and it felt ridiculous to say that having sex with Dante saved your life — but here you were. 

You fucked your ex and it saved your life. Stupid.

I’m so happy you were born

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: your birthday is coming up! But Dante has a mission he has to do, will he miss your birthday completely? Hurt/comfort, Dante is a great bf, so much fluff

You’re listening to some music while cleaning up Dante’s bedroom. He always tells you not to and he will “do it later” but later never comes. Plus you enjoy cleaning especially since you’ve been staying with him more recently.

Just as you’re finishing up making the bed you hear a crash and yelling coming from the office. You’re praying it’s not a wild demon wanting to attack Devil May Cry or someone wanting Dante to do a job and trying to trash the place because they didn’t like his answer.

You slowly make your way downstairs not wanting to get in the middle of anything but wanting to make sure everything is okay. When you’re at the bottom of the stairs you peek your head around the corner to look at the office. You don’t see anyone new there and don’t see the place torn up indicating there was no fight. You look down on the ground and see a pile of Dante’s work related stuff and him standing at his desk seething while on the phone.

You come to the conclusion that Dante’s mad at the person on the phone and threw the stuff that was on his desk to the ground. He normally is super chill about jobs whether accepting or declining so this is a bit out of the blue. You decide to stay in your hiding spot and listen in.

“I don’t give a damn if I’m the only one you got. I’m not taking the job!” Dante yells into the phone.

He’s growls at whatever the person on the phone said, “Find someone else.”

Dante then slams his hand not holding the phone on the desk, “I’m not doing a long mission! It’s her birthday next week and I’m not fucking missing it. I’m not doing that to her.”

Oh so he got assigned another long mission. You two have been together for about seven months but most of it you two actually haven’t spent much time together. He’s been sent out on many long missions which keeps you two apart for weeks sometimes even a month. You were so excited when you found out he didn’t have a mission on your birthday. Once you brought it up Dante made a lot of plans for your special day.

Hearing that he might miss the birthday celebration he planned shatters your heart. He has been so excited and kept most of the plans secret to surprise you. You get why he’s so upset and mad now.

A part of you also gets the other side. His job is very important and he is the best. Longer missions normally means a stronger demon. If there is a stronger demon out there causing trouble and pain to innocent people you want Dante to take it. But there is a selfish part of you that just wants you to yourself especially on your birthday.

You focus your attention back onto Dante and whatever the person on the phone made him stiffen. “You can’t cut my pay. You know I need the money…” he says while running a hand through his messy white hair. He’s obviously stressed so you decide to walk over and make your presence known.

You place a hand on his back and rub it up and down. He isn’t wearing his signature leather jacket so you feel all his muscles. He turns to you while wearing a frown. You don’t return the expression, you opt to give him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “It’s okay Dante.”

His eyes widen and you can see the conflict behind them. You know he wants to be with you but he can’t turn down the job especially not when he’s getting threatened with a lower pay.

“Fine I’ll do it,” he murmurs while slamming the phone down. He places both hands on the desk and hangs his head. In his movement your hand disconnected from his back. You hold it in their air not knowing if you should comfort him or let him have a moment.

Dante lightly calls your name, “I’m so sorry. Fuck I’m so sorry.”

“Dante.” He doesn’t look at you. “Dante, please look at me.” He turns to look at you and you see just how exhausted he is. He’s been working so much recently and was suppose to have a couple weeks off to rest.

You walk over and place your hands on his cheeks trying to bring as much comfort to him as you can. “Dante it’s not your fault. I get it. Your job is important and you’re so good at it that you can take on anything. You’re helping so many people continue to live in peace, and I’m so proud of you.”

“But you’re so important. You’re the most important part of my life. I promised you and now I can’t even celebrate your birthday. You were so excited-“

You cut him off, “I’m not going to lie yeah I was excited and I’m upset now because of how everything played out. But again you’re needed.”

“Yeah by you.”

“Dante, we can always celebrate when you’re back-“

Now he cuts you off, “No it’s not the same. It’s doesn’t have the same spark and it feels off.”

You bite your lip, “Dante I don’t want to fight about this. The last thing I ever want to do is fight with you before you go on a mission. So let’s just forget about it? There’s always next year and your birthday.”

“Wait but-“

You give him a pleading look to not fight you on this. He closes his mouth and sighs. You rub your thumbs against his cheeks to soothe him. Dante leans down to connects your foreheads.

“I hate this,” he whispers.

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” You know there isn’t much to say back but he isn’t holding you against you.

You decided to spent the rest of the day in bed cuddling. Dante has a vice grip on you. He doesn’t want to think how he won’t be holding you like this at this time tomorrow. He’s so mad. You’re sacrificing so much to be with him. He has so much planned and now he can’t do it.

You can tell Dante is not in the moment but you don’t want to bring it up. You don’t want to fight and you’d probably start crying because now it is really hitting you. You’re not going to be spending your birthday with the person you love the most. The day you and him (well mostly him) planned isn’t going to be happening.

You two mostly stay quiet besides some small conversations here and there. As you’re about to fall asleep Dante whispers in your ear, “I promise I’ll make this up to you.” And presses a kiss to your cheek.

You know he will but you also won’t be holding him to it. Anytime you get to spend time with him is special and great. So you don’t need a grand special day, you just need him.

You’re standing by the front door watching Dante finishing getting all his weapons onto his body. Once he’s done he walks over to you.

“Please be safe Dante.”

He puts a hand on the back of your head and pulls you into a quick kiss. “I promise. I’ll be home soon. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You place another quick kiss to his lips. Once you pull back he gives you a quick hug and heads out. Knowing if he looks back or stays a second longer, he won’t leave.

You quickly lock the door when he leaves and lean your back against it. You then let the tears you didn’t know you were holding in fall. You honestly didn’t think it was going to bug you this much. But you were so excited. He saved up so much money to be able to get a reservation to a fancy restaurant and even bought you a new dress to wear to the dinner. He also had the rest of the night planned after.

You wanted it. You want it so bad. It’s so unfair. Maybe you should have been selfish, you should have agreed with him and just let him not go. You should have begged him not to go. You knew he would have if you asked. He’d do anything you asked and you don’t want to take advantage of it.

You stay there sobbing until you drag yourself off the door and do random tasks. Cleaning, showering, cooking, and other things to keep your mind off of this situation.

You follow that schedule for the next couple days. It’s hard because it means you have to accept the truth and the truth hurts so bad. Especially when your birthday is tomorrow. You don’t even know what you’re going to do. You don’t even want to celebrate it anymore. You don’t want a cake, you don’t want presents, you don’t want birthday wishes, you just want Dante.

You walk into your shared room and head to your closet. You go right for some of Dante’s clothes since this is the closest you’re going to get to him at the moment. You then go lay on Dante’s side of the bed trying to soak up every scent of him you can. You bury yourself under the blankets and just hope tomorrow will pass quickly.

You wake up on your birthday really early. Today is definitely trying to play with you. Shouldn’t you have good karma since you weren’t selfish and had Dante go? You stare at the ceiling and contemplate what you should do. You feel like if you stay in Devil May Cry today you’re going to be so depressed all day. You end up deciding to treat yourself to the cafe down the street.

You get ready and head out. The walk is only about five minutes so you get there quickly. You decide to get a tea and muffin. You sit at a seat by the window watching people walk by. A worker brings out your order and you thank her. She nods and head off. You enjoy your muffin while you slowly sip on your tea.

The world really must be after you because all you’ve seen today is couples. In the cafe or walking by the window. The world really wants to remind you that you were suppose to be like that today but you aren’t.

You decide you can’t take any more of this so you knock back the rest of your tea and leave. You can barely hold your tears back as you walk back to Devil May Cry. You can’t wait until you can bury yourself under the blankets again and hide from this awful day.

Little did you know while you were out Dante bursted into Devil May Cry. He’s huffing and puffing with a bouquet of roses in his hand. He calls out to you but doesn’t hear you respond. He quickly strips himself of his weapons and places the roses on the table.

He goes to look around but doesn’t see you anywhere. You must have went out. That makes him a little happy because now he can surprise you more. Dante goes to take a quick shower then set everything up.

He got decorations earlier this week. He starts by hangs up a big “happy birthday” sign. He then blows some balloons and tie them to little weights he got. He is thanking he has extra stamina due to his demon side after blowing up all those balloons.

He then goes and grabs your gifts he hid in his armory. Dante got you a necklace with a red gem stone to match his own. He then got you a camera because you’ve been talking about how upset you were because your old one broke. He topped it all off with getting you some of your favorite treats and snacks.

Dante sets those up on the table in front of the sign then quickly runs to put the roses in a vase. He grabs the confetti he got and throws it on the table to add a little more birthday flare.

He takes a step back and looks at the setup. He is super happy with all it has turned out and he is so happy he finished the mission extra fast. There was no way he was going to miss this. Especially after he heard you crying after he left. He stood outside the door for a couple minutes hoping you’d stop crying. Sometimes he really curses his skillful hearing because hearing you cry shattered him. He told himself he was going to make this quick and celebrate your birthday.

Now he just waits for you to get back.

You’re almost back and you are barely holding it together. You feel some tears slip out. You keep your head down until you get back.

You get back to Devil May Cry and go to open the door. You realized it’s unlocked. You mentally slapped yourself for forgetting to lock it. You open the door and are greeted with a decorated room with your boyfriend standing in the middle.

Dante’s smile widens when he sees you. “Happy birthday!!” He excitedly says.

You stare at him with your jaw dropped. “Dante, is that really you?”

He smiles lightly and shakes his head, “Yeah it’s me baby. I’m here.”

Dante opens up his arms and you drop your purse and run over to him. You jump into his arms wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and legs around his waist.

He quickly returns the tight hug. He places a hand on the back of your head to place yours into his neck. You cry into his neck, “You’re really here,” you choke out.

“Yeah I’m here baby. I couldn’t just miss your birthday.”

You squeeze him tighter, “Thank you but how?? I thought the mission was suppose to long?”

“Yeah it was but I got rid of the demon quickly,” he said all cocky. “Wanna open your presents before you get ready for our reservation?”

You pull your head out of his neck, “You got me gift!?”

He looks offended by your question, “Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I?” He lets you down but grabs your hand and walks you over to the table.

Dante stands behind you and wraps his arms around you, “Go ahead, open them.”

You start with the biggest bag and pull out a bunch of snacks and treats. “Ohh!! We have snacks for a movie night!”

He laughs at your reaction but guides you to the next gift. You then unwrap the rectangular shaped box and see a camera. Your eyes widen, you’ve been talking about getting one but only brought it up once or twice. He’s been really paying attention. That warms your heart, “We are going to try this out tonight.”

“Whatever you say baby,” he says after kissing the top of your head.

You go to the little box and unwrap it. You see it’s a little jewelry box. You open the box and see a beautiful silver necklace with a red gem stone. It reminds you a lot of his, did he get you this so you two can match? This also must have been so expensive.

“Dante this is all amazing and I can’t thank you enough. But wasn’t this all expensive?”

“Nothing is too expensive for you. I don’t mind, I want to spoil you.”

You spin around in his hold and pull him down into a soft and slow kiss. He tightens his grip on your waist and keeps you close to him. You break and smile up at him, “Thank you Dante. I love you so much.”

He smiles back down at you, “I love you so much too baby. But now it’s time to get ready!”

You laugh at his excitement. You grab your new necklace and head to your shared room. You go to put on the new dress Dante also got you. It’s a long red dress with a slit going up your right leg. You’re having a hard time zipping up the dress so you call Dante.

He walks in and whistles, “Hot damn. You look gorgeous.”

You flush at his comment, “Thank you, but can you help me? I can’t get the zipper.”

Dante walks over and stands behind you. You feel his warm hands on your lower back. You got some of the zipper but couldn’t get all of it. You feel the zipper going down and you roll your eyes, “Dante, up not down.”

He lets out a deep laugh, “Right I knew that.” He then zips up the dress and kiss your bare shoulder. “There you go,” he lightly whispers.

He goes to walk away but you stop him, “Can you help me put the necklace on too?”

He nods and holds out his hand to grab the necklace. You place it in his hand and he goes to stand behind you again. You pull your hair out of way so he can easily clip the necklace. Once he’s done he moves your hair back.

You step away from him to go look in the mirror. You are so glad your little cry session didn’t mess up your makeup too much earlier. You just need to touch up your mascara. You quickly do that and then get a good look at yourself. You look great! You can’t wait for Dante’s reaction to the final look.

You walk back downstairs and see Dante sitting on the couch. “Dante.”

He looks up and stares. He gets up and slowly walks over to you. He holds out his hand and you take it, he has you do a little spin. This has you beaming up at him.

“God baby, you look so fucking breathtaking. I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly, “Thank you! You look very handsome too.”

He laughs again at your compliment, “I’m not wearing anything different or new.”

“I know but you’re always handsome, especially when you have that smile on your face.”

He brings up your hand to kiss your knuckle, “Well thank you. You ready to go?”

You just give him a simple nod. He leads you out of Devil May Cry and to a car parked in front. “Uh Dante where did you get this.”

“Oh Enzo let me borrow it. It’s the least he can do for almost making me miss today.”

You two get into the car and he takes off to the restaurant. He places his hand on your thigh rubbing it and down your leg.

The drive was pretty short. Dante quickly finds a spot to park then gets out to lead you inside. When you get to worker they ask for the name and Dante says his name. You two then get lead to your table.

While you two ate, you and Dante talk about his mission and what you “did” while he was gone. When you’re almost done you ask Dante, “So what are we doing the rest of the night? You had this big plan.”

Dante smirks, “Now why would I tell you? That ruins the fun.”

You roll your eyes but decide to go with the flow. He’s been doing great so far, you bet it’s going to stay this way. When you two finish eating Dante pays then leads you back to the car.

Dante pulls out of the parking spot and heads in the opposite direction of Devil May Cry. He drives to the edge of the town and up this uphill terrain. Once he’s at the top he makes sure the back of the car is facing the view.

He parks the car then turns to you, “Stay right here and don’t look back. I’ll come get you in a minute.”

“Okay.” He leans over and kisses your cheek then hops out of the car.

Dante opens the trunk then flattens the back seats down. He then sets up the blankets and pillows he brought in the back. After he gets it perfect he then focuses on the cake box that was back there too. He lights the candles then goes to grab you.

He opens your door and holds out his hand, “Take my hand but close your eyes until I tell you to open them.”

“Okay but you better not let me fall.”

“The only falling I’d let you do is falling for me,” he smirks.

You smack his arm and he just laughs. You take his hand and close your eyes and let him guide you. You walk to the back of the car. He stops you for a second then grabs your hips and lifts you up. You quickly grab his shoulders and hold onto him tightly. He places you in the truck then lets go of you. Dante then grabs the cake and stands in front of you.

“Okay open your eyes.”

You open your eyes to see him standing there with a cake in hand with a bunch of candles. The cake has a cute design with your name and “happy birthday” written on it.

You look back up at him and he’s smiling at your reaction, “Happy birthday baby, make a wish.”

You think for a second about what you want. You then realize what you want. You want this every birthday. Just you and him doing whatever. You say your wish then blow out the candles.

Dante then hops in the trunk beside you and hands you a fork. You two dig into the cake and enjoy the night sky.

“Dante,” you call out to him.

He is stuffing his face full of cake so he makes a humming noise to let you know to continue.

“Thank you for making this birthday so special. It means a lot to me you worked quick so you could surprise me and celebrate my birthday. Thank you for all the incredible gifts and memories. I’ll cherish these always. I love you beyond words Dante.”

“No need to thank me this much. I’m just happy I could make this day so special for you. Seeing you so happy makes me so happy. I’m so happy you enjoyed your birthday with me. I love you so much, you don’t understand.”

You two both lean in to share another kiss. This kiss is messy and not in a heated way. You both have frosting on your lips which is smearing over the both of your lips and chins but you couldn’t care less. You have your favorite person with you and that’s all that matters.

After you two had your fair share of cake and watching the stars you two pack up and head back home. The car ride back you’re almost falling asleep. You force yourself to stay up though so you can spend all the time you can with Dante. You know he’s not going anywhere any time soon but you still have a little fear that this was just a dream and he’s not actually going to be here when you wake up.

Once you’re back you head straight to your shared bedroom and get ready for bed. You get done at record speed because you just want to go to sleep.

Dante is already in bed curled up under the blankets. When he sees you coming to bed he lifts the blankets for you and you dive right in. You cuddle up next to him and instantly fall asleep.

He chuckles a bit and kisses your forehead, “Goodnight and sleep well.”

After a few minutes of silence and he knows for sure you’re asleep he murmurs out, “I’m so happy you were born.”

Magically Attached (Please Help)

Pairing: Dante x GN!Reader

Summary: You are a grumpy apothecary who hates loud, flashy hunters like Dante—until he becomes your most frequent (and irritating) customer, constantly busting through your door with injuries.

Authors Notes: This is my first attempt writing, so please bear with me 💔 Please give me some tips and feel free to give some criticism

The apothecary preferred silence. The kind that hummed between glass bottles and bloomed in the scent of crushed sage. So when the front door slammed open with all the grace of a hurricane—nearly snapping off for the third time that week—and a bleeding man staggered in with a shit-eating grin, you were tempted to throw an entire jar of ghost pepper salve at him.

“You again,” you spoke up flatly, not bothering to look up to see who just came in. You already knew who it was with how they opened the damn door.

“Miss me?” Said the injured devil hunter, Dante. His voice rang out through the room, sounding far too casual for someone whose arm was currently bleeding.

You looked up from the potion you were working on, eyes slightly narrowing as your gaze landed on Dante. “That’s the fourth door this week, and I just reinforced it. You owe me a new hinge.”

Dante swaggered in, leaving muddy boot prints all over the carefully swept floor. “I’ll add it to my tab.”

You held your tongue when you saw Dante leave foot prints on the floor that you had just cleaned minutes ago. “You mean the one you haven’t paid in three months?”

He grinned. “That’s the one.”

With a sigh, you motioned him to sit on the exam stool—well, it was originally meant for calm tea-sipping clients, not devil hunters bleeding onto the rug..but this was your life now.

You watched as Dante settled onto the stool with a wince as he dramatically groaned, shrugging his tattered coat off and letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. You winced as the dirty fabric hit the floorboards, unfortunately giving you more to clean up later.

“Bleeding on the rug and shredding like a stray mutt.. You’re really out to test me these days, aren’t you?”

Dante leaned back as he casually rested one boot on the edge of your carefully organized desk with arranged healing salves and herbs, earning a silent death glare from you.

“Come on, Doc.. Don’t act like you never miss me when I’m gone. I bet this place gets real boring without me.

You rolled your eyes as you grabbed a rag and tossed it at Dante’s head, “I make sure to cherish every moment of silence when you’re not here to visit.”

Dante swiftly caught the rag before it could hit his head and pressed the fabric over his wound, letting out a small chuckle at your words. You watched as the white rag got stained red with the hunter’s blood before you went to get some medicine to heal his wounds.

You put on some latex gloves before you walked over to the cabinet from across the room, carefully grabbing a vial there with some sort of magic purple liquid in it. You went to go behind your desk and grab some moonflower dust from the drawer beneath there, sprinkling some of that into the vial.

You then came over to Dante who was still wiping his blood off him and held your hand out. “Give me your arm.”

Dante blinked at you for a moment before he held out his uninjured arm.

“Other arm.”

His lips formed into a small “O” in realization before he held out his injured arm.

Your grip on Dante’s wrist was gentle but firm as you put the vial down onto the table and inspected the wound, “You know, if you didn’t leap face-first into every demon that blinked at you funny, you might actually stay in one piece.”

Dante winced as you prodded at his arm, smirk slightly faltering. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You raised an eyebrow as you reached for the vial. “You call this fun?”

Dante winked, “I call you fun.”

You poured the liquid from the vial into the wound with no warning as you glared down at him.

“Ack— You damn sadist!” Dante hissed, though there was no clear hate in his tone.

“Brat.” You murmured, more to yourself..

The potion fizzed on contact with Dante’s wound, glowing faintly with violet light. It smelled faintly of crushed herbs and something sweet, like sugar. You didn’t flinch at the sound of his pained groan, continuing to pour the liquid onto the wound until the vial was empty.

“You know,” Dante muttered through clenched teeth, “normal doctors use bandages.”

“I am not a doctor,” you replied dryly. “Now stop squirming or I’ll pour some more straight into your mouth.”

Dante dramatically sighed at your words, head falling back as if you had just stabbed him. “You wound me, Y/N. More than a demon does, honestly.”

You rolled your eyes again—it was starting to feel like they’d fall out of your skull if Dante kept this up. “Then maybe next time I’ll just let you bleed out in the alley.”

“Now that’s the grumpy bastard I know and love.” Dante smirked.

You paused, just for a second, before brushing it off like a speck of dust on your apron. “You’re lucky I have a professional obligation to keep you alive..”

“Ah, so it’s just business, then?”

You stayed quiet as usual. You just wrapped a bandage around Dante’s arm a bit too snugly for comfort.

“Ah, there’s the affection.” Dante said as he flexed his fingers. “Tight wrap. You trying to cut my arm off or get me to stay longer?”

“Neither. I’m trying to keep you from bleeding all over my floorboards.”

Dante settled back against the stool as if he owned it. “Y’know, I come here for the customer service.”

“And I keep wondering why you don’t stay dead.” You muttered.

“Maybe I like the company.” Dante spoke, his voice quieter now. Still teasing, but the edges had dulled.

You stepped back, peeling your gloves off. “There. Don’t use that arm for the next two days. Which means no fights, no lifting anything heavy, and absolutely no breaking down any more of my doors.”

“Awh, come on! I just got invited to a big nest-clearing near the city walls. Easy job. Two hours tops.”

You shot him a look sharp enough to curdle blood.

“Okay, okay. No fighting. Just resting.. got it.” Dante said, reaching for his coat, wincing a bit.

“You’re pushing harder than usual.” You suddenly spoke up.

Dante raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, pretending not to understand. “Demons don’t kill themselves, Y/N.”

You paused, not looking up just yet. “They don’t need to. Not when you’re this damn determined to do their job for them.”

For once, Dante didn’t have a snappy comeback.

Silence lingered between them, rare and strangely heavy.

You walked over to a small wooden shelf in the corner. You grabbed a small glass jar with blue powder inside and returned to Dante’s side, unscrewing the lid carefully.

“This will numb the pain and speed up the healing,” you explained, more quietly this time. “It’ll sting like hell for a second.”

“Already stinging, Doc.”

“Not a doctor.” You muttered again, then gently smeared the powder across the wound. A sizzling hiss filled the air, followed by Dante swearing under his breath.

“Yup. Definitely a sadist.”

“Keep talking and I’ll stitch your loudmouth shut with your shoelaces.”

Dante let out a breathless laugh, the tension in his frame easing slightly. “Bet you say that to all your favorite patients.”

“I say that to all the idiots who won’t stop wrecking my door every damn week and staining my floorboards with their blood everyday.” You corrected.

A beat passed.

“Same thing,” Dante said with a half smile, watching you work. “You just don’t wanna admit that you’d miss me if I just suddenly stopped showing up one day.”

You didn’t look at him, sprinkling the last of the powder onto the wound.

“Maybe I would,” you said softly. “But not for the reasons you think.”

Dante blinked.

Then you stood up straight and turned away swiftly, already reaching for your broom to deal with the mess Dante made on the floor. “Now get off my stool before you bleed on something else. And fix the damn door on your way out.”

“..Sure thing, Y/N.” Dante said, a little more quietly this time, his eyes lingering on your back before he slowly pushed himself up.

Dante paused at the threshold of the store, stopping in the middle of the doorway, watching you clean up the remains of yet another chaotic visit. The broom swished rhythmically against the wood, as if you were trying to sweep him out too, like he was some persistent pest who kept bothering you.

“Y’know,” Dante leaned against the doorframe, “for someone who pretends to hate me, you patch me up with a lot of care.”

You didn’t even look up. “That’s because if you die in here, I’ll have to clean that mess too.”

Dante smirked. “You sure it’s not because you like me?”

You paused at the hunter’s words, stopping your sweeping.

You stood there for a moment, broom in one hand, gaze stuck on a spot on the floor like it held the secrets of the universe. Then, very slowly, you looked up until your gaze landed on Dante.

“I like quiet.” You slowly spoke, “I like organized shelves. I like not getting half of my store covered with some guy’s blood mixed with chunks of demon ichor.”

You set the broom aside.

“But..” You crossed your arms and leaned against the counter, tilting your head at Dante, “I don’t hate the way this place doesn’t feel… dead anymore.”

Dante blinked.

“Not dead, huh?”

You shrugged, eyes narrowing just slightly. “It used to be quiet because no one really came in everyday, until you came..”

Dante blinked yet again, watching you like he wasn’t sure if he really heard that last line or if he had imagined it. You, as usual, didn’t wait for him to catch up, you just turned back towards the cabinet, rummaging through a drawer for something as glass and wood gently clattered against each other.

“What about now?” Dante prompted, stepping in again, a hint of curiosity in his usual smirk.

“Now it’s quiet between the noise,” You muttered. You pulled out a wrapped bundle of dried herbs and set them down on the counter, keeping your back turned. “That’s different.”

Dante folded his arms, his teasing grin widening. “Y/N…is that your poetic way of saying you enjoy my company?”

“It’s my very restrained way of saying I’ve gotten used to your stupid face showing up at random times,” You muttered, gently biting your tongue before you spoke any further. There wasn’t any heat in your voice—just that tired fondness that slipped in when you forgot to watch your tone.

Dante chuckled, taking another step inside and letting the door creak shut behind him, gentle this time. “Careful, Y/N. If you get any softer, I might actually think you care.”

You turned around to finally face Dante, gave him a deadpan stare, and shoved a small paper pouch into his chest. “Here, this will help for the fever you’re definitely going to pretend you don’t have in about two hours.”

Dante blinked in surprise.

“Boil them in water. Drink it. Go sleep, maybe somewhere that isn’t my shop.”

Dante looked down at the pouch in surprise, then back up at you. “..You made this already, didn’t you?” His smirk grew.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Of course I did. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re about to be a stubborn idiot.”

Dante held the pouch against his chest like it was something rare and unobtainable. Maybe it was.

“Y/N,” his voice was quieter now, “you’re kind of a miracle, you know that?”

Your mouth stayed shut.

But the tips of your ears turned the faintest shade of red as you grabbed your broom again and muttered, “Get out of my shop, Dante.”

“You’ll miss me tomorrow.”

“I’ll miss the peace.”

Dante opened the door carefully this time, leaning against the frame before leaving. “Try not to miss me too much, Y/N.”

You huffed and turned back to the counter. “Don’t make me to lock you out next time.”

“Like that would stop me.”

You muttered something unintelligible under your breath—but waited until the door shut (gently, for once) before you allowed the faintest smile to pull at your lips.

“Idiot..” you murmured,

“Don’t die out there.”

Hi! Can I have maybe a head canons or scenarios request for Dante (DMC 5 and Netflix version) with a fem s/o who's loyal towards him and very caring towards him.

As if the reader would do everything they can to make him happy and show how they love him or cared for him. What would both versions react about this?

I don't just write for Dante, yall can send in requests of Vergil, or V or Nero >3

Thank you for this, it's so cuuuute

DMC5 Dante absolutely loves it.

♡ His s/o is a morning person. Always up before him unless he hadn't went to sleep in the first place, or he makes her sleep in with him. She'll show her love to him with acts of kindness.

♡ Keeping the place clean is one of them. Dante knows not to dirty something reader has cleaned unless he wants to be the one to reclean it. One time, he had to mop the whole place from stepping in with mud.

♡ By the end of that day, the two of you were dancing to the music you had playing to help motivate him. The floor didn't get clean, but that was okay. A memory with Dante that's filled with smiles and laughter, shared kisses... that meant more.

♡ Definitely has a habit of showering him with kisses on the daily. Doesn't matter what he is doing - as long as their are safe - she'll walk up to him, cup his scruffy face in her hands and pepper kisses all over his face. Each time saying something so tooth rotting sweet.

"handsome," kiss "strong" kiss "you always do such a good job" kiss "I love you."

♡ Surprises him with strawberry sundaes. And most of you money goes to pizza - but that's fine. You're not the one in debt.

♡ What really gets him is when he's noticed how nothings went out yet. Electricity, his water, it's all still on even though he knows he hasn't paid it in months. Tries to ask Morrison about it, but all he gets is, "You have someone who cares, Dante."

♡ Shaving. He doesn't do it often, since how fast it grows back. But when he does shave - you're more than happy to do it for him. Settling upon his lap with the cutest expression of focus as she is careful with shaving him. When done, she can't help but to rub her check with his affectionately. Reminding him of a cat.

♡ You practically do everything for him, it's how you show your love. But don't get it wrong, Dante tries his best to show you that kind of love in return. Except, his comes in the way he practically worships you.

2025 Dante doesn't feel like he deserves it.

♡ His S/0 is someone he's known for a long time. Having started out as friends until he decided he would try. Just for her. He's scared to become attached to anyone, and this shows whenever he subconsciously pulls away from you.

♡ You're patient though. And with every action you do, you make sure to poor every ounce of care and love into it. Making him know he is truly loved.

♡ Not a hunter, but you're not defenseless. For from it. When his s/o has discovered what he does, she spent the whole night learning what she could from him. Every now and then, you'll try to sneak up on him, but he always knows it's you.

His hands automatically gripped beneath your thighs when you jumped on his back. Hands covering over his eyes as you tried to change your voice, failing. "I'm robbing you!"

The silliest grin appears on his face. "Oh, yeah? What're you taking then, pretty?"

You groan, before smiling. Removing your hands and leaning more over his shoulder. Hands cupping his face. You declare, "You're heart!" before kissing him.

♡ He appreciates your loyalty. He see's it in how you reject any other man who wished to be with you. In how you stay by his side no matter the dangers. even when he's having a difficult day and say's something he shouldn't have.

♡ You love him in the way you would start a warm bath or shower whenever he returns home a completely mess. In how you join him and wash the gunk from his hair. And he feels it when you hold him at night. Fingers running through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. In how you whisper, "I love you..." In such a soft, sweet whisper.

♡ Dante doesn't like caring. Always makes it a point not to. When in reality, he cares the most. And even though it is still difficult for him to voice or show this, he tries his damn hardest. Just for you.

The night is still young, they said, with the club still buzzing with chatter, loud music, and DANTE SPARDA leaned against the side of the bar, swirling his glass of half-drunk whiskey, when he spotted a familiar, wobbly figure stumbling out of the women's bathroom door.

(Name) was an eternal beauty—even drunk off her ass, even barefoot now with one heel swinging dangerously in her hand. The champagne dress clung to her, or at least it tried to, her hair wild but still looking gorgeous, her eyes suspiciously inspecting her surroundings as she tried to stay upright.

Dante grinned, getting up from his seat, leaving some money on the counter next to the unfinished drink. Oh, this is going to be good.

“Hey, princess,” he called, stepping toward her. Without warning, she shrieked and threw her heel at him like a makeshift dagger, or like a catapult, either way she used all her strength, even though she was not in a sober state. How cute.

He caught it midair, laughing. “Easy there, Tiger. I’m not here to mug you.”

(Name) blinked, squinting at him. Her nose wrinkled adorably. “Who—who the hell are you?” she slurred, swaying slightly.

He spun her heel lazily in his hand. “Just a guy lookin’ out for a lady in distress.”

She pouted. Pouted. This is their best "date" so far, especially when she's not making fun of him or playing hard to get. “M’not in distress. M’fine. Jus’... jus’ tired. Damn dress... stupid shoes…”

Dante chuckled, slipping her shoe into his coat pocket. “Sure you are, sweetheart. Come on, lemme walk you home.”

She eyed him suspiciously, clearly debating if he was trustworthy. Then she nodded, swaying again, and nearly face planted into him. He caught her easily, steadying her with hands at her waist, as he gently squeezed her, clearly enjoying how vulnerable she is right now.

“You’re warm,” she mumbled into his chest, snuggling more into him. “And you’re drunk,” he teased, looping her arm around his to keep her close.

They started walking, the fresh air hitting just right, and now left with one heel clacking against the pavement when she tried to limp along on one foot before finally giving up and walking barefoot.

Halfway down the block, she sighed dramatically. “You know, you’re real cute for a stranger.”

Dante smirked. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” She hiccupped, twirling a lock of her hair, unintentionally making his heartbeat go faster, “Got a stupid face.”

“A stupid face?” She nodded, almost falling over again. He gripped her tighter.

“Y’know what’s worse?” she continued, voice rising. “I got a crush on someone with a stupid handsome face like yours.”

He bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Really? Must be tough for a lady like you.”

“It is!” she whined. “He’s got this dumb perfect hair and a dumb voice that makes my knees all jelly and a body that's—ugh—so unfair!”

Dante couldn’t resist. He leaned closer, very much amused and intrigued by her description of her stupid crush. “Sounds like a real pain in the ass, sweetheart.”

“You don’t even know!” she slurred, poking his chest with one finger. “I see him and I’m like—” She made a frustrated noise and waved her arms dramatically, nearly smacking him in the face. “Why is he so hot? So annoying most of the time, but he's so kind and caring about me. Why does he make me lose all my senses and can't think straight?”

He was dying inside. Absolutely dying.

They reached her door, and Dante leaned her against the wall while she fumbled for her keys, muttering curses about “pretty demon boys” under her breath.

Finally, she turned around, glaring up at him with eyes that left him without the right to choose or say anything. “You stay.”

The demon hunter blinked, grin pulling wider. “Stay? Isn't letting a stranger into your home a little dangerous?”

She nodded, tugging him clumsily by the front of his red coat. “Stay 'cause I need to rant more about my stupid crush with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid cocky smile, and stupid abs...”

He leaned down, nose brushing hers, teasingly close. “Sounds like you got it bad, babe.”

“You have no idea,” she whispered, wide-eyed. He caught her chin gently between his fingers, lifting her face. Looking at her with those eyes and a smile, teasing and challenging her. “Maybe I do.”

(Name) blinked, squinting harder, vision slowly clearing. Her breath hitched.

“Wait a damn minute...” she slurred suspiciously, poking at his cheek. “You... you look like him…”

He laughed, warm and low, gently cupping her face, “Surprise, sweetheart.”

Before she could say another word, or throw her earring at him, he swept her up effortlessly, carrying her inside.

“Don’t worry,” Dante said, voice smug and fond as hell. “We’ll talk about your stupid crush in the morning. Over some pizza, my treat.”

(Name) just sighed against his chest, a little smile appearing on her face. “Stupid handsome jerk...”

And Dante? He’d never been happier to be called stupid in his whole damn life.

©2025 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

+ note: i intended this with dmc3 dante, but any version of him you desire works <33

minors dni!

dante sparda was an know for his appetite. he loved pizza, he loved strawberry sundaes. but what he most loved?

your pussy.

dante could spend hours between your thighs. he would beg for a lick, "just one, please?" you both knew that it would be way more than one. but how could you ever deny him?

he was messy, but skilled. one long, flat press of his tongue up your slit, fingers parting your lips as he dips his tongue in to lap at your walls.

he couldn't get enough!! his lips would wrap around your clit, tracing shapes and his name onto the sensitive bud. anything to get you to cum, anything to slurp up all your release.

dante never settled for one orgasm from you. no, he needed more. your thighs would be coated in your slick, release, and his drool, his chin wet, a puddle soaking into the bed or couch, where ever he could get you.

your legs would be slung over his shoulders, mouth desperately making out with your cunt, like he was starved for days.

he even asked you to not shower after work. he loved your natural scent, the taste of your day on you.

dante was a hungry, sloppy man, never satisfied. he craved you. it got him off watching you fall apart under him.

or better, on top of him. he loved having you sit on his face.

that's an understatement, he needed you to sit on his face. caging his head in between your thighs, rutting your hips against his mouth, it was heaven for the man.

his eyes would close in pure ecstasy, hands keeping your hips fully seated on his face as he slurps away. he doesn't do that hovering bullshit, he needs to feel you against him, on him.

dante has no shame using his devil trigger as well, fucking you with his long tongue, hot breath against your wet flesh. it was primal, he felt almost animalistic with the way he would get.

what could he say? dante really just loved the taste of you.

©2025 spikesbunny- please do not repost/translate my works on other media sites ♡

Did I mention I'm wildly in love with this deranged little bitch? Don't even ask where this idea came from-my brain's basically a cursed fanfic generator fueled by chaos, thirst, and questionable zero impulse control

Locked & Loaded

The alley was slick with demon blood—everywhere, sticky, and steaming where it hit the pavement. The stink of it clung to the night air, thick and metallic, crawling into your lungs even through the adrenaline.

Dante wiped his blade on his coat, standing over the remainings of what had once been a gangly, hissing demon.

"Ugly bastard" he muttered, nudging the corpse with the toe of his boot. "That’s the last time I take a bounty that pays in IOUs and moldy pizza"

You scoffed, stepping over a pile of broken crates. "You weren’t complaining about the pizza when you ate half of it"

"Low standards. Occupational hazard"

You shot him a look over your shoulder as you sheathed your own blade. The two of you made quite the pair—blood-splattered, sweaty, and absolutely unbothered. Dante had his usual swagger, that half-cocked grin that never quite left his face, and you? You were the calm to his chaos. Cool hands, sharp eyes, and a pistol always ready—until tonight.

Because, as fate would have it, both your guns had hit the ground mid-battle. His were kicked across the alley; yours had slid under a rusted dumpster in the middle of dodging a particularly aggressive hellspawn.

You figured you had enough time to grab them—until the second wave hit.

The growl echoed before you saw it. Low. Guttural. Disgusting.

Dante turned just as the wall behind you shattered, bricks flying. Something huge and snarling lunged out from the smoke, claws like meat cleavers and a mouth full of jagged teeth that glistened in the moonlight.

You both dove—instinct, perfect synchronization—but you hit the ground hard, knees scraping.

"Shit—Dante, your guns—"

"Gone" he grunted, rolling to his feet. "Yours?"

You looked under the dumpster. No glint. No chance. "Buried. We’ve got nothing"

The demon roared, charging.

Dante grimaced. "Alright. We’re doing this old-school"

But you held up a hand. Calm. Focused. And very much not panicking.

"Nah, twin" you said smoothly, voice cool as the metal you were about to introduce to the situation. "I got this"

Dante blinked. "Babe, unless you’re hiding a shotgun in your boots, I don’t think—"

You reached into your jacket, tugging at the zipper halfway… then lower.

He paused.

"Wait—are you—?"

And with one confident pull, you drew a sleek, silver pistol from right between your chest—tight holster, custom fit, hidden in plain sight. You cocked it without missing a beat, the click loud and sweet in the tense air.

Dante stared.

"Holy hell," he muttered, visibly stunned. "Is that where you keep it this whole time?"

You smirked, stepping forward with a roll of your shoulder. "Emergency backup, babe. You think I wear this top for style?"

The demon charged again. You raised the pistol.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Three shots. Each one precise. The demon reeled back, screeching in pain as black ichor burst from its eye socket and shoulder.

Dante watched you—barely breathing, maybe because you looked like a literal fever dream. Bloody, glowing in the alley light, sweat clinging to your collarbone, your weapon still hot in your hands, smoke curling from the barrel.

He let out a low whistle. "You just became the hottest person I’ve ever seen"

You didn’t look at him—too focused, too in the zone. "Flirt later. Cover me"

“God, I love you” he muttered, dazed, as he grabbed a crowbar from the ground and dove in with you.

It was fast, brutal. You moved in tandem—one fluid, lethal machine. The demon never stood a chance.

By the time it crumpled into a pile of twitching limbs, you were breathing heavy, hands on your knees. Dante came up behind you, slow, still catching his breath.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

"I’m not even mad about losing my guns," he murmured. "That was the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen. I mean, between the boobs? That’s genius"

You laughed, low and smug. "Told you I had it handled"

He nuzzled your neck, shameless. "You have me handled"

You turned in his arms, lifting the still-warm pistol and tucking it back into its secret holster. His eyes followed the motion like a man hypnotized.

"Stop staring"

"Can’t," he said. "My girl pulls a piece from her tits and kills a demon with three shots to the face. What do you expect me to do, not get turned on?"

You kissed him then—sweaty, blood-spattered, and giggling. He tasted like adrenaline and praise and something wild.

"You’re shameless" you whispered.

"And so hard it's concerning" he said against your mouth. "Now let’s go home. I wanna see what else you’ve been hiding under that top"

FANCY SEEING YOU HERE II

- DANTE SPARDA (DMC)

Thanks for all the love on part one, much appreciated. FSYH is not finished but it’s also not fleshed out (pure brainrot) so if you have ideas you would like to see here, you’re more than welcome to comment or send an ask my way.

Happy reading!

Part one

6:57pm.

You were waiting at the front doors of a grand hotel lobby. Enzo assured that this was an intel only mission, however the heavily armed security posted on every corner had you thinking otherwise. Whoever was in there was considered a risk, and while you hadn’t known Dante for long, you doubted his ability to act tactfully.

As another man held the hotel door open for you, you politely waved your and in rejection, “Just waiting for someone, thank you.”

The man looked down your figure once more, sending you a wink before disappearing inside. You fought the urge to cringe in disgust, and looked around once more into the dark street. It was bustling with traffic as cars pulled into the valet parking, you hoped Dante would be here soon. You were starting to freeze you ass off in this thin dress, although floor length, the fabric did nothing to warm you.

A low whistle called from behind you, “Damn sweetheart, holding out on me earlier were you?”

As you turn around you can blatantly see Dante staring you down, his eyes glued to the way the dress highlights your curves. It’s not really the low cut of the dress that gets him going though (although it certainly helps) it’s the deep red colour you’ve purposely chosen to wear. The symbol alone, the idea that you’re an item is enough to make his mind jump off the deep end into his fantasies.

“Can’t show all my cards now can I?”

“Guess not,” he mutters absently, watching the way your heels clack against the stone pavement.

Once you’re close enough, you lean in, “Did Enzo send you the target details?”

Naturally, Dante reaches forth to place a hand on your waist. To outsiders you look like a couple getting comfortable, and he’s fighting to keep the act up. “Yeah, some hotshot boss man right? Has information on some demon hoard,”

“Not just a demon hoard, rumours have it that he has access to his own portal, did you read all of the report?”

Dante hums dismissively, his thumb circling your hipbone, “I was thinking about other things,”

“Like what?” You scoff.

“What’s our backstory?” He questions, eyes peering up at you.

You frown, tilting your head, “Sorry? I didn’t see a backstory in the plans,”

The man laughs, gently tugging you closer as he watches another couple walk through the doors of the hotel lobby. They nod towards each other out of curtesy, “I’m thinking we met through work friends, everyone said you were too good for me, but I, ever persistent, refused to back down,”

You laugh out of disbelief, “Are you forming our dating history? I don’t think that’s necessary, no one is going to pick up on that,”

Dante looks down at you, his expression shifting into a tense furrow, “They are going to catch us in an instant if we can’t blend in, I’m not risking that.”

This makes you pause, the break in his usual flirty character makes you second guess yourself. When you look over your shoulder into the hotel lobby you can see multiple partners chatting and drinking. Had Enzo set you up for failure? This didn’t seem like a usual business gathering. The fancy dress code, affluent crowd, and security made it seem more like a private gala.

“How long were you chasing me before I agreed to a date?”

Dante smirks, “Three and a half failed attempts over two months,”

Your eyebrow quirks, “Half attempt?”

The man sighs, waving his hand in distant memory, “You were drunk, I drove you home, and you kept spouting on about how handsome I was—”

You raise your hand with a scoff, “Not likely,” you tap your chin in though, “How about, I agreed to a fake date at a work function to avoid an ex boyfriend?”

Dante hummed, “A jilted lover huh?” He shuffles closer, in the name of keeping up appearances, he justifies, “Seems likely, poor guy I’d almost pity him.”

You shake your head in disbelief, you’re almost tempted to break out of his grasp but the thunk of car doors behind you signals that people are still walking past into the building. Instead of shying away you lean forward, tilting your head and completely invading his space.

You raise your hand, a manicured finger gently tracing his cheek, “Well, he was a disappointment. His ego couldn’t keep up with his performance, if you know what I mean,”

Dante feels a spark crackle down his spine, he’s pleasantly surprised by your adaptability. Most people like wouldn’t humour him for this long, and he’s starting to mourn that he’ll never experience this again.

His eyebrows furrow together in confusion. You roll your eyes, “Don’t make me spell it out for you Dante, have a little bit of taste,”

His sly smile gives him away, “I’d never disappoint you darling, promise,”

You hum, “We done now? I know I’m getting paid overtime, but I have got to get to my bed at some point tonight,”

“Can I join?” The quick response makes you slap his arm. Not wanting to humour him longer, you grab his hand and turn around. Dante falls in step with you as you walk towards the lobby doors, he props the door open, ushering you in with his other arm around your waist.

A door man greets you instantly, offering to take your coat. You smile warmly, turning your back towards him but before he can step forward, Dante intervenes by placing his body between your back and the doorman.

“Allow me, sweetheart. Why don’t you go ahead and find our table?” Dante murmurs.

You can see the doorman back off instantly from the corner of your eye. When you look over your shoulder at Dante, you can see why. His gaze looks murderous as he slips your coat off, you mentally applaud his dedication to the role.

Following his lead, you nod both to him and politely at the doorman, “Sure, don’t take too long,”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmurs, gently dropping a kiss on your shoulder before backing up. The slight feel of it makes you pause, a tingle remains in the spot but you refuse to make a deal of it. Instead, you look over at him once more to see him walking towards the coat room before making your way into the venue.

The person of interest tonight it Marcus Wicks, a man with some very deep pockets, and interesting ties with some unorthodox scientists. Information on him is limited, as he has done a good job sticking close to the shadows or having other informants do his work for him.

You catch sight of the man as you walk over to your table, he’s standing near the corner, surrounded by what you assume is associates chatting around him and security behind him. He looks over his shoulder to ensure they’re there before being pulled into a conversation.

Paranoid much? You look over the name plates on the table, stopping when you see yours and Dante’s. You’re not sure how Enzo managed to get you both into this venue, but you’ve learnt not to question it if it’ll save you the headache. You’ve barely just sat before the lady to your left turns to you.

“My, my that gown is gorgeous, what a beautiful colour,” she gushes.

You smile politely. “Oh, thank you, you’re too kind. I could say the same about you,”

The lady waves her hand, “Oh, this old thing. I didn’t even bother buying a new dress, I’ve been to so many of these things by now, they’re starting to get boring. I’m glad to see a new face,” she grins, “Are here with someone?”

You lean in closer in an act of interest, if she’s been here for a while she could offer some insight about Marcus. You’re about to ask but she cuts you off with a wide flourish of her hands, “Wait! I’ve got the perfect guy for you! He recently moved here, tall, good looking,” she leans in a closer with a whisper, “Rich too,”

A hand drops on your shoulder, “Goodness sweetheart, trading me in already?” You look up to see Dante had made his way over, “I know I was in the doghouse but I didn’t think you’d get rid of me that fast. What can I do to make it up to you, my love?”

You laugh, placing your hand over you chest and on his, “Don’t be dramatic, I was just about to introduce you,”

The lady in front of you gasps, “I’m so sorry! I just assumed because you had no ring, my husband is always telling me to think before I speak, oh god how embarrassing,”

You smile in reassurance, “Please, don’t apologise, it’s not a big deal,” you pat Dante’s hand, “This is Dante, my partner,” the sentence rolls off your tongue smoothly.

Dante squeezes your shoulder, “Pleasure to meet you…” he draws out.

“How rude of me, I don’t believe we introduced each other. Vivian,”

You introduce yourself in turn. The first thing you learn about Vivian is that she is one nosy lady, she has gossip on just about every person present in the building. Dante stands as a steady shadow behind you, thumb rubbing the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone gently as he half listens, half surveys the room.

“Mr.Wicks, or Marcus, is a new addition to our little events. I can’t remember who invited him, he just showed up one day and quickly became a popular patron,” Vivian takes a sip of her wine, “Probably because he has all the money in the world to burn,”

Your eyes widen, “He really has that much?”

“That much, and more darling. He’s got a very successful data broker company that keeps his hobbies afloat.”

Dante leans over your shoulder, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to introduce myself to the others,”

You look over at him, “Sure, I’ll see you soon,”

You watch as Dante walks over to a group of men nearby the open bar. He bumps his elbow into one of the men in a friendly gesture, shaking his hand with a broad grin. He’s a natural at this. You almost shake your head in disbelief, it’s like he has a pull that draws people in. One that you’re starting to fall victim to.

Vivian chimes in, “You two are gorgeous together,”

To save yourself from an embarrassing flush, you reach for your drink, “Thank you,”

“No, really, I’ve never seen a man so enamoured,” is that jealousy you hear? “It’s like you fit in each others shadows, a complete match,”

You take a sip of your drink before responding. Pondering how you should go about this conversation, “We’re not perfect,” you laugh, “We’ve had our fair share of fights, that I can assure you of,”

Vivian hums thoughtfully, “What’s your secret then? What keeps you two together?”

At this, you grin, “Stubbornness.”

After a few moments you manage to get out of Vivian’s spotlight and steer the conversation back to Marcus. You lean that his hobbies include everything about demonology, and portals.

“Gateways to other dimensions, he calls it,” she waves her hand dismissively, “I couldn’t tell you anything else I tuned out after that. Honestly, what a load of garbage right? Who believes in any of that?”

You nod and take it all in while Vivian has another sip of her drink. Heavy drinker. While what she has told you isn’t anything new, it’s good to have your information solidified by another person.

Before your conversation can continue, a man walks up on stage, “Ladies and gentlemen if you could please make your way to your seats. The event will start soon.”

You watch as every begins to weave between tables to their seat, whispering to each other. It’s not long before Dante drops himself down beside you, he places his hand on your thigh and leans over to whisper in your ear.

“How was your gossip session?”

You hum, “Information was confirmed, nothing new though. What about you and your gentlemen club?”

You can hear Dante inhale, his hand gently rubbing up and down your thigh, “Afraid the club brings bad news,” this makes you frown, “Apparently Marcus is unveiling a project tonight for his loyal followers,”

You tense, rigid enough that Dante squeezes your thigh in reassurance, but that alone is clarification enough of your suspicion.

“He has a demon. Here?” You murmur, trying to keep your breathing even but your heart rate has picked up.

“Yes,” he exhales, “You should sneak out now, I can meet you—”

The lights abruptly cut out, you can make out a screen being lowered as a projector clicks on. When you look over your shoulder you can see Dante is already seeing the same thing. Security closes the door and swiftly locks everyone inside.

“So much for plan A,” Dante mutters.

You don’t know how he can be so calm. Well, you do know, demon hunter and all, but you’re freaking out. Heart rate elevated, your breathing gets heavier, and you think you’re getting dizzy but that could either be the alcohol or paranoia talking.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,”

You whip your head around, facing him directly, “You can’t promise that,” you hiss hysterically, “We don’t even know what we’re up against,”

Vivian looks over at you quizzically, concerned about your rising tone. You smile pleasantly, and pat Dante’s chest patronisingly. She smiles knowingly before turning back to her husband.

Dante leans closer, talking lowly, “Have some faith in me please, sweetheart, this is my job we’re talking about,”

You search his eyes, in the light of the projection screen you see nothing but confidence. Everything from his expression to his body language suggests he has nothing to fear.

You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, when you look back at him, he has an unreadable expression on his face, “I swear Dante, if I come out of this with even a scratch, I’ll be pissed off,”

Marcus makes his unassuming entrance onto the stage. There’s nothing out of the usual with his appearance, just an average looking business man if you didn’t know any better.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining me tonight. As you may know, all your efforts and contribution to my project has come to fruition,” he raises his wine glass, “Please join me in a drink, for this is a celebration of our hard work.”

Applause erupts around the room, you hesitantly join in but Dante remains still with his arm draped across the back of your chair. The rooms becomes quieter as security rolls out a large cage, the contents are covered— typical— by a white sheet.

Marcus goes on, with what you honestly think, is a tangent about his passion for otherworldly dimensions and demons from hell. You can’t find yourself tuning in as much as you should, far too distracted by the cage that sits quietly on stage. Why is it quiet? You would have thought the demon inside would be kicking up a storm in its captivity, but not even the sheet is moving. Is it sedated? Who has their hands on demon grade sedative?

You tense when Marcus walks over to the cage, “And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” his hands grasp the sheet, “Feast your eyes, on what is only the beginning of our journey.”

The sheet flies off with a flourish, falling to the ground below the stage, gasps sound from around the room including your own.

The cage is empty.

“Oh, fuck,” you panic.

“Fuck.” Dante sighs.

A strange shadow crosses the projector lens, cause the screen to flicker. You look up at the ceiling, in the darkness of the room you can see a bulking shadow. Hovering right above you.

You clench Dante’s thigh, “Dante—”

“I see it.”

Through your peripheral you can see him gazing up at the ceiling, “Get under the table.” He demands.

You don’t really want to let go of him, it feels more dangerous separating from him than finding cover. Hesitantly, you start to shuffle off your chair slowly to not cause suspicion.

Vivian looks confused as you go, “What are you doing?”

You’re already sitting on the floor when she asks, you make a shushing motion, “Follow me,” you whisper, taking her by the wrist and not taking no for an answer.

Once you’re under the table, she asks again, “What on earth is going on?”

You can hear a chair dragging across the floor beside you, “Where is it then?” Dante calls out. You cringe at his brash attitude.

“Where’s what?” Vivian she asks quietly.

You don’t answer, but Dante does, “The demon? I was promised I would see one tonight.”

You can’t see Marcus’ expression but you assume it’s not a friendly one. You can hear footsteps closing in, security probably, trying to search the perimeter. A unearthly growl reverberates across the room, silencing everyone.

You can see Vivian open her mouth but you slap your hand across it before she can speak. She’s frowning, you’re about to try and placate her when something heavy drops onto the table about your head. It rattles the cutlery and you can see wine glasses fall off the edge.

“Wow,” Dante whistles, “Now that’s what you call an entrance.”

The room erupts with screams, people frantically getting out of their seats and dashing for the exit. You stay perfectly still, even as the table worryingly starts to rattle and tip.

“What is that?” Vivian cries.

“A demon,” you try to say as evenly as possible. You can hear Dante in the background trying to lure the demon off the table.

“What?” Suddenly she looks around frantically, “My husband, what about—”

“I really wouldn’t suggest leaving here right now,” you whisper, “Wait for Dante to lead the demon off the table,”

She stares at you for a moment, “You’re being serious,”

Sounds of cutlery falling crashes around, “Yes,”

“And just what does you partner do?”

You look away, “He’s a demon hunter,”

“A demon hunter,” she frowns, “How did you get in tonight? Who do you know here?”

You sigh, looking at Vivian squarely, “Now is not the time for the full story but I think you’re smart enough to piece it together anyway,”

Vivian looks at you for a long moment, “I want to get out of this alive,” she says finally.

You nod, “Me too.”

You both agree to stick together in solidarity, holding each other’s hand tightly. You hear the demon screech terribly above you.

“That one hurt big guy? Why don’t you come do something about it?” Dante taunts.

Heavy footsteps crack the table, causing splinters to rain down on you. They reach the end of the table, slowly you shuffle back, bringing Vivian with you. When you reach the opposite end, you hesitantly peek out from under the cloth, you can see the stage, now empty, but surprisingly no blood spilt. You hope it stays that way.

You can see an emergency exit door beside the stage, you could make it if you dashed for it. The tablecloth drops as you slip back under, you tug your dress up and reach for your heels.

“What are you doing?” Vivian whispers.

“Take them off,” you respond, “We have to make a run for it.”

Vivian quickly follows your direction. With heels abandoned, you wait for Dante’s signal. Listening carefully you can hear something being thrown before landing with a thunk, the demon responds with a resounding roar.

“I have enough knives to throw to last me all night,” is he being serious? “Are you gonna make the first move? Or do I?”

The table creeks once more, you grab Vivian’s hand. “Get ready.”

The table tips with the demons weight, exposing your place of hiding. You take your chance as the demon launches itself at Dante. Keeping low you dash for the emergency exit door, Vivian close behind you. Vivian lets out a terrified gasp, alerting the demon. Its head whips in your direction but you keep going, dragging Vivian even closer.

The demon is about to turn around when Dante runs for it, you only catch a glimpse of it but you swear you see him summon a sword out of nowhere.

“Oh no, I’m not done with you yet.”

You shoulder the exit door open, shoving Vivian through and then slamming it closed again as if that would be enough. Once it’s closed, you grab her hand again and leap down the stairs until you see the doors leading outside.

You gasp, breathing heavily. It’s not safe yet but at least you’re out of the perimeter. It’s raining heavily now, and you’re getting soaked to the bone.

You glance over at Vivian in her deep purple dress, she wraps her arms around herself. “What do I do? My husband…is he alive?”

You swallow, “I don’t know,” you whisper, “But Dante is doing all he can, don’t lose hope yet.”

She nods absently. You can hear police sirens in the distance.

Not long after, you were ushered away from the lobby doors by paramedics begrudgingly, despite explaining you weren’t hurt. But they insisted you get out of the rain to avoid hypothermia, so now you sit increasingly anxious in the back of an ambulance with a blanket over your shoulders. You can hear gunshots, even a few windows shatter.

It felt like forever before it finally went silent. Moments passed before you saw police securing civilians out of the building. You leap out of the ambulance, despite the worried shouts of paramedics you run for the doors. Staying behind the parked police but looking anxiously.

Familiar white hair can be spotted easily amongst the crowd, “Dante!”

You can see him more clearly now, his clothes are torn from what looks like claw marks. And there’s bloodstains, of either his or the demon’s you can’t be certain. His head turns in the direction of his name, spotting you instantly. He walks over, mid-conversation with the police, which irks them you can see but they don’t try to follow him.

“Missed me?” He smirks.

You exhale, relieved to see him okay, “All pieces of you accounted for?”

“All the important ones anyway,”

He smiles, tucking your drenched hair behind your ear, “I told you, you’d be okay. Look you even made it out with no scratches. Damn, I am good at my job,”

“You scared me half to death,” you exasperate.

Dante looks at you for a moment, “You care about me, sweetheart?”

Your eyes widen at the insinuation, you look down at your bare feet to avoid his gaze. You were just put through an intense situation, one that you were nowhere near prepared for. And you don’t appreciate that being downplayed.

“Yes, I do care, for you wellbeing,” you hiss, “You are one of my hunters, and what you did in there was reckless at best! Taunting a demon like that, are you fucking stupid?”

“I like it when you call me yours,”

“Don’t deflect the conversation—”

He steps closer into your space, you’re practically chest to chest, and the height difference causes you to look up.

“I am fine,” he emphasises, “Renowned demon hunter, remember? I know my limit, and I don’t need you to worry about me,”

“You’re impossible,”

Dante shrugs, “Get used to it angel, because you’re going to see a lot more of it.”

You can head Vivian in the background shouting her husband’s name, when you look over you can see her leaping into his arms. You let out a sigh of relief, you’re glad they got reunited. Her husband hugs her tight as she sobs into his arms.

“Saw what you did in there, brave of you,”

You look away, “Kinda stupid separating them though, worried her for nothing,”

Dante hums, “He was lucky this time that I was there, you though, you saved her. Sure we can’t make a hunter out of you?”

You look up at him, eyebrow raised. “Maybe not,” he second guesses, “Then who would greet me after my missions?”

“Enzo?” You guess.

Dante scrunches his nose, “Nah, he’s no way near as hot as you,”

You roll your eyes, “Walk me home?”

Dante nods, removing his damaged jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

It's "dmc anime Dante is hot-" this and

"Young Dante is so hot -" that

DMC 5 DANTE??? IS SO SLEPT ON???

THE THINGS ID LET THIS MAN DO TO ME

DUDE ARE YALL BLIND??

IM OUT HERE LIKE

hear me out, gun sex but with ivory and ebony being interchanged betixt your spread legs with a younger dante.

the boy is full of spunk and charisma, so you can't really say no to his sideways smirk and flashing eyes. he's full on pretty boy swagger and curling drawl that makes your heart melt and weight shift to lay on your back so dante can get to his show.

the cold gun metal heats to molten pussy, and slick threatens to clog the chamber after the 'nth orgasm you cream onto the muzzle. the safety flicks on and off every once in a while, when you fight back and whine way too shrilly for his ears. its a total mood killer and he really needs to set you in your place, so a little threat here or there really makes you shut the hell up and let your hole stretch out around his pretty girls.

at one point he makes you blindly guess which ' girl ' is fucking you so good right now. the next door neighbors are thinking you're having an orgy, but in reality you're just getting brainfucked by ivory's trigger guard rubbing your clit in vicious motions.

he loves his girls.

My whole world

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, friends with benefits to lovers, no smut but there is sexual innuendos, confessions in the rain, you guys argue.

I fall in love with him more and more everyday.

Today was a great day or so you thought. Dante brought you your favorite breakfast to bed and spent the whole morning cuddling you. You then went out with Lady and Trish to go shopping in the early afternoon. You saw a cute dog while walking back to Devil May Cry and the owner let you pet him then give him a treat. You then got ready for a night out with your little squad.

Now you’re at the same old bar your group always goes to but you have to watch many women ALL over Dante. If looks could kill they’d all be dead. Dante too on accident. Or is it an accident at this rate? You and Dante probably have the most complicated relationship.

You’ve know each other for a couple of years because he helped you move into your apartment. You ironically moved into the open apartment right next to Lady. They were coming up to her apartment when they saw you struggling to carry everything by yourself. Dante quickly rushed over to you and took the extra boxes in your hands and asked if you needed help.

Lady also pitched in and after a couple of hours, you three got everything into your apartment. To thank them you ordered a pizza and gave them some beers. You all sat down eating and drinking while introducing yourselves. Before they left they each gave you their numbers to keep in touch since you didn’t know anyone in town.

After that night you three regularly met up to hang out in your apartment. Within a couple of weeks they introduced you to Trish and she ended up moving the get togethers to the bar. You don’t mind of course because sometimes cleaning up after the four of you got tedious.

Dante would always stay to help you clean up though. He would also check your apartment to “make sure everything looks good still.” You believed him at first then once you found of the groups profession, you now know he was making sure no demons were lurking anywhere.

But that is the reason why you and Dante got close fast. The little clean up sessions would end up being late night talks or motorcycle rides. You two would talk everyday whether that be over the phone or meeting up.

The relationship didn’t change much until a few months ago. You two were hanging out in Devil May Cry watching a movie and eating pizza. Before you even realized you were in his lap making out with him. Neither of you two know how you two got there but that didn’t stop you two.

That night you ended up sleeping together too. You woke up before him, in his bed. You were also stuck in place because Dante had a tight hold on you. So you just laid there and thought about everything. How did this happen? Will this change things? What will Dante think? Will this ruin your friendship?

You hear a groan in your ear so you wiggle around to try and face Dante. He realizes what you’re trying to do so he loosens his grip on you. Just enough to let you turn around but once you’re facing him he holds tightly onto you again.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he mumbled deeply. You already thought his voice was deep and beautiful but his morning voice is something else. It sends a warmth back to your core. Trying to ignore the heat of your lower area you bury yourself into him.

“Good morning,” you murmur back.

“Want some breakfast? I think I got some stuff. I actually went grocery shopping this week.”

You laugh at his comment knowing that he hates grocery shopping and always “forgets” to do it. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He lets go of you and sits up. He lets out another groan while he stretches then hops out of bed. He grabs his discarded underwear from last night puts them on. He then grabs his shirt and throws it over to you. A silent request and you listen. You throw the shirt on and hop out of bed.

You follow Dante down the stairs and into the kitchen. Dante opens the fridge and looks at the small contents of food he has. He asks, “Is eggs and toast good?”

“Yep, sounds good to me. I’ll make the toast while you can make the eggs.”

Dante nods and goes to prepare the eggs. You grab the bread that is on the counter next to the toaster funny enough. You take out four pieces and pop them into the toaster. While the bread toasts you zone out thinking about this all again.

Dante isn’t acting any different than he normally does. So does he regret this? Is this a one time thing in his opinion? You don’t know. There’s so many questions unasked that are obviously going unanswered. But you don’t know how to start the conversation.

You then feel two strong arms wrap around you and pull you into a warm embrace. Dante’s whole body engulfs you. He leans his chin on your shoulder, “I was calling out to you. Are you okay?”

You just nod your head but that doesn’t convince him. He squeezes you tighter, “Are you thinking about all of this?”

He feels you stiffen for a second, that’s how he knows he’s right. Dante lets out a deep breath and tilts your chin so you can look at him.

You look into his beautiful blue eyes. You can see the message he’s trying to put across. It makes you ease up a bit because if he thought negatively of this situation, he wouldn’t give you such a tender look.

“How about we just go with the flow?” He suggests. “We both know I have a messy life and can’t exactly do relationships so let’s keep it casual. We do what we want when we want to. We can obviously set more rules later but what do you think?”

You think about his offer, so he wants to do a friend’s with benefits situation. The idea isn’t all that appealing because you’re more into being in relationships, but this is Dante. The man you’ve been into since he helped you. You selfishly want him in whatever way you can have him. If this is the only way then you’ll do it. Even if it means sacrificing your emotions.

You look at him and give him a light smile, “I’m in, let’s do it.”

Dante smirks and lowers his hand to your butt and gives it a squeeze, “Atta girl.”

Since that day for months you and Dante have been “secretly” hooking up. It was a secret at first until Trish walked into Devil May Cry and see Dante pounding into you on his desk. Trish then told Lady and those two jumped you one night after work demanding answers.

You sigh and lead them up to your apartment where you sit down and tell them the situation. They are not happy with you or him.

“You like him so why put yourself through that? Get a real man that will actually take you out and be your boyfriend,” Trish and Lady lecture you.

“But- I just… this is the only way I can have him. I’ve liked him for so long and I don’t want anyone else. If this is how I can have him then I’ll take it. Even if it means it’ll slowly break my heart,” you gently whisper not being able to look at them.

Trish walks over and kneels in front of you placing a hand on your shoulder. “I get it that you like him so much but he’s only hurting you.”

You snap your head up to look at her, you don’t like how she’s talking down on him. “No he’s not! He takes me out on dates all the time. We don’t always sleep together. We still hang out normally and do everything we use to just with the addition of sleeping together. He’s really protective and sweet. He’s even gotten me some gifts. So don’t talk down on him like he’s some random bar guy. I love him and I don’t want to hear you belittle him.”

Your eyes widen at your own confession and you slap your hands over your mouth. Trish and Lady both stare at you owlishly.

Lady clears her throat, “You love him?” You nod your head. “And he takes care of you?” She asks to confirm.

“Yes he does.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, “Then why isn’t it official?”

“It’s complicated. Don’t question it, let me deal with all of this.”

That talk was a couple weeks ago and now the two girls watch you seethe in your seat. They see the white haired man talking to all the ladies and making no effort to push them away. You all are too far to hear what they are saying. It’s probably a good thing for your emotional well being.

Trish turns her head to see you knocking back another shot. She’s lost count of how many you’ve done and that’s not good. Normally you barely drink and now you’re pushing it.

“Hey,” she calls out to you. “Take a break yeah?”

You turn to glare at her, “I’m perfectly fine!”

Lady rolls her eyes and just continues to watch this all unfold. Trish has the patience of a saint.

“Why don’t you go dance for a bit? Blow off some steam.”

You beam at her and lighten up. “Oh yeah! I’ll be back later!!” You then run off to the middle of the dance floor.

“Why the hell would you send her drunk and emotional self onto the dance floor?” Lady questions.

Trish slips slowly on her drink, “Because Dante is going to clean his mess up.”

As if she could predict the future Dante comes marching over, “Hey where the hell is she?”

“Who?” Trish asks.

Dante says your name aggressively. Trish then looks over Dante’s shoulder to find you. She finds you in the middle of a group of guys trying to feel you up while dancing. She smirks to herself thinking this situation is perfect.

“Oh she’s just on the dance floor with a bunch of guys over there.” She points to where you are.

Dante snapped his neck so fast. If he was just human he would have definitely broke his neck. He looks to see a crowd of guys all over you trying to lay their hands on you.

His blood boils watching the scene. Before he realized he is marching over to where you are. He’s pushing past people mumbling “excuse me’s” and “sorry’s”.

You don’t even fully realize what’s going on. You’re just trying to dance to one of your favorite songs then suddenly a group of men are around you. They all are trying to get close but you keep dodging them until they have you in the middle of the circle.

You try to keep your head down and keep dancing but that isn’t helping. They are trying to grind on you or try and wrap themselves around you. You hate this. You wanted to dance to get Dante’s escapades out of your head. But now you’re in a stupid situation.

You see a hand reaching out to you in your peripheral vision, you squeezed your eyes shut hoping to delay the event. But the touch never comes. You open your eyes to see Dante holding the man’s wrist. “You better leave her alone if you know what’s good for all of you.”

Then men feel this murderous aura pouring off of Dante. They all quickly apologize and scatter off. You’re happy that Dante helped but you’re still mad at him. You turn away from him but he places his hands on your waist and turn you to face him. He then takes your arms and wraps them around his neck before placing his hands back on your waist.

“What, no praise for your knight in shining leather?” He jokes.

You roll your eyes and ignore him. But that doesn’t stop him from pulling you closer and leading you two in a slow dance.

You keep your eyes off of him while you dance and don’t really seem focused in the moment. He can tell you’re drunk but there’s something else bugging you.

He calls your name, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing Dante,” you snap.

“Whoa there’s definitely something wrong. Come on you have my full attention so tell me what’s wrong.”

This makes your blood boil. You push him away from you and jab your finger into his chest, “You really have some fucking audacity Dante.”

You then spin around and rush out of the bar. Dante stands there in shock and confused by your sudden shift in emotions. You’ve never yelled and snapped at him before. He’s seen you drunk but you’re more of sleepy drunk. This is really coming out of nowhere in his eyes. He knows he can let your drunk self be by yourself at night so he goes after you.

He pushes open the door of the and steps outside. He feels the rain coming down and he curses to himself. He looks left and right then sees you and takes off after you.

You rushed out of the bar to be greeted by a downpour. Great! Just what you needed after this terrible night. You cross your arms over your chest to try and keep as much warmth as you can.

You sniffle which makes you realize that you are crying. You mutter out “fuck” and wipe your tears. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this agreement. You knew something like this would happen but you just couldn’t say no to such a tempting offer.

You feel someone grab your wrist while saying your name. You know exactly who it is. You try to rip your wrist out of his grip but he’s not budging. You stop the futile fight, “Dante, let go,” You beg.

“No, not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

You turn your head to face him and he gapes at your reaction. He sees your red eyes with tears streaming down your face. He’s never seen you fully cry before. He doesn’t even realize he loosened his grip until you pull your hand away and bolt again.

He quickly takes after you again and this time he runs in front of you to stop you. He’s breathing heavily not because of the running but because of his nerves. “Okay tell me what’s wrong.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“No. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you!” He yells finally tired of your constant dismissal.

You clench your fists and stare right at him, “You wanna know the problem?” Dante quickly nods. “It’s you Dante! You’re the fucking problem!”

Dante feels like he’s been punched in the gut. What do you mean he’s the problem? “What- how… what do you mean I’m the problem?”

You laugh at his answer, “Of course you wouldn’t know!”

“Oh enlighten me then,” he says sarcastically.

“Just go back to your other girls and leave me alone! You did a great job of doing it already, I bet it wouldn’t be hard.”

“Oh so you were jealous? That’s why you’re upset? I was planning on going home with you tonight and fucking you until the sun rose so don’t worry.” He deadpans.

Your jaw drops, the audacity he fucking has. You can’t even right now. You try to walk past him but he sticks his arm out preventing you from getting around.

“DANTE GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!” You scream.

Dante is even more confused, he thought he fixed this. “Why are you still mad?”

You push past his arm and continue on ahead. “Stop avoiding me!” He yells out to you.

You spin on your heel and stare at him. “You wanna know why I’m so mad?” Dante just nods.

“It’s because I love you Dante! I loved your crazy self ever since you helped me move in.”

You see Dante freeze up completely this time. He opens his mouth then immediately closes it a couple of time then finally mutters, “I didn’t know-“

“Of course you didn’t know because I couldn’t show it or tell you! I was so nervous that morning you were going to tell me that it meant nothing to you and that we should never talk about it. But then you offered the goddamn friends with benefits option and I just couldn’t turn it down.” You throw your hands up in frustration, “I knew doing it would hurt me but I didn’t care. I wanted you. I know it’s selfish but I couldn’t say no. Having you this way was better than not having you in some way. So I decided to do this even though I knew it’d kill me slowly.”

You let the tears flow now and you hiccup, “We gotten so close these past months and have basically acted like a couple. It made me think we really were one. But tonight made me realize we didn’t have a label and I’m not yours and you’re not mine. You can have anyone you want. I got ahead of myself and now we are fighting over my selfishness. We made rules and I broke them. Just do me a favor and go back to having your eyes wander all over those girls.”

You don’t bother to look at Dante. Your heart won’t be able to take it. You decide just to turn around and leave this in the past. You can’t come back from this, especially not after your confession. You start getting further and further from the man you love.

Dante has stood there frozen since your first confession. After every new confession it felt like he was getting stabbed over and over again. He couldn’t bear it. But you were obviously in more pain than him. Yet he is the one that caused it. How could he have been so stupid? He didn’t mean for all of this to happen.

He was in the same boat as you. He is in love with you. That’s why he made you the offer. He thought he would get to have you without forcing you to give up a lot of things to be with someone in his profession. But he ended up taking more from you. The exact opposite he wanted.

He watches you get further and further away. Dante can’t watch you get any further because he can’t lose you for good. He can’t turn his back on you two.

He yells your name but you don’t stop. That doesn’t stop him, he’ll chase after you no matter where you lead him.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath then yells, “WHY WOULD I HAVE WANDERING EYES WHEN MY WHOLE WORLD IS IN FRONT OF ME!?” Now he watches you freeze and turn around. You two are still at least a hundred feet apart still. He slowly makes his way over to you.

“I’m selfish I know. I caused you more pain than you deserved and I hate myself for it. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. All I ever wanted to do was keep you protected and happy. I’d do anything to make that happen. Those girls that were with me tonight did flirt with me at first but I shut them down. I explained how I am so in love with the woman I brought tonight but I don’t have the balls to tell her. So they tried to help me make a plan to confess.”

He runs a hand through his hair, “How funny is that? I can’t fight demons all day long but I can’t tell the woman I love that I love her. I made the arrangement because I thought like you, I thought I’d lose you. And god if I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t even bear the thought of you not spending the night anymore.”

He is now only a few steps away from you but stops to give you some space. Dante lightly calls your name, “I know I fucked up but please let me fix it.”

You slowly nod your head indicating him to keep going. He doesn’t waste his chance, “I love you. I am so in love with you and have been since I saw you. Please be with me. No more stupid friends with benefits. Just us in a relationship, where I am yours and you are mine.”

You stare deeply into Dante’s eyes and speak up, “Dante you better not be lying just to try and fix everything. I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it, I truly love you. I swear to you,” he responds without hesitation.

“Okay then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Dante smiles ear to ear and you can’t help yourself from mimicking his reaction. He doesn’t waste another second before pulling you into a bruising kiss.

His big hands brings back so much warmth you have lost in the rain. His tongue runs along the your lips begging for an entrance. You allow him access and he pushes his tongue to meet yours.

He easily dominates your tongue while having your teeth clash from the intense messy kiss. Dante then lightly bites your bottom lip which makes you moan. Dante pulls you closer after your reaction.

The kiss tastes like alcohol and rain. It feels so right and warm. You never will get tired of the intensity of which Dante kisses at.

After Dante feels your movements slow down a bit he breaks the kiss and leans back to look at you. You’re not crying anymore but you’re completely soaked from the rain.

You break the silence first, “Can we head back now? I’m really tired.” You request.

Dante laughs, “Yeah we can head back.” He turns his back to you then crouches down. He turns his head to look over his shoulder, “Hop on, I’ll carry you back.”

You hop onto Dante’s back and hold onto him tightly. You lay your head on his back and whisper loud enough for him to hear, “I love you Dante.”

“I love you too.” He feels your grip loosen a bit indicating you feel asleep. He smiles to himself then whispers, “Sleep well.”

❝ Girl, I hope he made you satisfied. Well, baby, i won't cry. As long as you know that, when I land, you're mine. ❞

After a messy breakup with Dante and a year of silence, you’ve rebuilt your life from the ground up. Now, Dante's back, and one thing is clear — he's determined to make you his.

▷ i

▷ coming soon...

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 4/20/25

cw/tags: TBA

i.

★ pairings: dante (netflix dmc) x fem reader

★ summary: After a messy breakup with Dante and a year of silence, you've rebuilt your life from the ground up. Now, Dante's back, and one thing is clear — he's determined to make you his.

★ ❝ It's been exactly 365 since I've seen your face ❞

★ c.w.:dante being a little shit, suggestive content. not beta'd, reuploading bc it got taken down?

★ a/n:HIIIIIIIII!!!! okay so i put out a poll asking about how y'all would feel if i posted a dante fic, and omg. so many of you replied. so now here go ahead and take this shit!! damn!!! jk i want him so bad so yk i had to rush to get this done LMFAOOAOA. enjoy besties! if you're from around here, you know the drill. if not, please leave lots of comments, i love the spam and your praise gives me motivation to update quicker!!

★ w.c: 10k

pretty ; chapter index

YOU AND DANTE had a messy breakup. Contrary to how it may have seemed at the time of “The Argument” (as you had begun calling it), there was nothing sudden about it. It didn’t detonate like some sort of time bomb, but disintegrated rather slowly – like water trickling through the cracks in the cement, soft and patient, until one day everything just caved in.

It didn’t always feel that way.

When you had first met Dante, it was… effortless. (Some of which was the rose colored glasses’ doing, you were sure). He was cute as hell, first of all. He was funny, too. He had no problems laughing you right out of your panties on the first date, and… well, practically every night after that. He looked at you like you were everything to him – like a dream come true, like he couldn’t believe someone like you would actually have chosen him. You got along famously.

For a while, things stayed that way. Six months, in fact. Things were good. Simple. You’d wake up to his arms around you, his voice in your ear, calling you names that only sounded pretty falling from his lips – princess, babydoll, sweetheart. His stupid jokes – the ones that always used to make you crack a tired grin. He used to make time.

But, somewhere along the way, his job started taking more and more of him. Late nights began to bleed into early mornings. You’d wait up for him with leftovers gone cold and shows paused halfway through. At first, he apologized. Said he hated missing out on time with you. But then the apologies stopped, and so did the explanations. You’d go days without hearing from him. Sometimes weeks. You’d text—hey, you okay?, can you call when you're free?—and the replies would trickle in too late or not at all.

You tried to be understanding. People get busy, right? Life gets in the way. You told yourself that a strong relationship should be able to weather a few quiet days. But it was more than just quiet. It was absence. It was like he was slipping through your fingers and pretending he wasn’t.

And when you did talk, it was always surface-level. You’d try to tell him how it made you feel—how the silence scared you, how you felt like you were in this alone—and he’d get defensive. He’d say, “I’m doing my best,” or “You know how much pressure I’m under right now.” And you’d bite your tongue. You didn’t want to add to the weight on his shoulders. But the resentment kept building. You weren’t asking for the world. Just a check-in. A sign that he still remembered how to love you when things got hard.

The miscommunications started small. A forgotten anniversary dinner. A vague answer when you asked if he’d be home. But they stacked up like dominoes, one after the other, until the smallest push sent everything toppling. You both stopped speaking the same language. You’d say, “I miss you,” and he’d hear, “You’re not good enough.” He’d say, “I’m tired,” and you’d hear, “You don’t matter.”

Then came the argument. The big one. The one that split the foundation.

You were setting the table when he buzzed the apartment door.

It was 10:18 PM.

You stared at the intercom for a second before pressing the button to let him in. No words. No "I'm here" or "Sorry I'm late." Just the click of the door unlocking and silence.

You opened the door before he could knock. Dante stepped in looking like hell—literal hell. Blood on his sleeve, eyes sunken from lack of sleep, hair damp like he’d tried to rinse off whatever mess he’d walked through before coming to you. He smelled like copper and smoke and exhaustion.

Still, your heart lifted for a beat just seeing him. Stupid, soft reflex.

“Hey,” you said.

He nodded. “Hey.”

You stepped aside and let him in. He didn’t kiss you. Didn’t touch you. Just dropped his duffel by the door like he was clocking out of something. The sight of him like this—tired, distant, barely standing—it tugged at something in your chest.

“I made dinner,” you said, a little too hopeful. “It’s probably cold by now, but—”

“I’m not hungry,” he cut in, already moving toward the couch.

You stood in the kitchen for a second, hands still resting on the back of one of the chairs. Watching him. He sat with a grunt, elbows on knees, head in his hands like gravity was pressing harder than usual. You knew that posture. It meant don’t ask questions. Don’t start anything. Just let him sit in the silence.

But tonight… you couldn’t.

It had been a week. A week without him. A week of one-word texts, unanswered calls, and too many nights alone, replaying old conversations in your head trying to figure out when exactly he started slipping through your fingers.

“I waited,” you said softly. “I thought you were coming at eight.”

He didn’t look at you. “Got held up.”

You waited. Hoped for more. An apology. An explanation. Something that showed he realized this mattered.

Nothing.

You took a slow breath. “Dante… you can’t keep doing this.”

That made him lift his head, eyes hazy with irritation. “Doing what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Ghosting me for a week. Showing up in the middle of the night like it’s nothing. Acting like I’m just supposed to—what? Pretend we’re fine?”

His jaw tensed. “I’ve been working.”

“I know,” you said, voice sharper than you meant. “I know you’ve been working. Risking your life. I get it. But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t care when you disappear. I can’t keep sitting alone in this apartment wondering if you’re alive.”

He blinked, like the words didn’t land right. Or like he didn’t want them to.

“You think I enjoy this?” he muttered. “You think I like being stuck in some sewer for three days bleeding out while some freak tries to tear me apart?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“You have no idea what it’s like out there.”

“No,” you snapped, stepping forward. “But I know what it’s like in here. Waiting. Checking my phone every five minutes. Making excuses for you. Pretending this doesn’t hurt because I’m scared if I say the wrong thing, you’ll just disappear again.”

He stood then, sudden and sharp. “You think I want to be like this?”

“I think you don’t know how to let people in,” you said, quieter now. “And I think I’ve been trying so damn hard to hold onto something that doesn’t want to be held.”

He stared at you, breathing hard, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“I didn’t come here to fight,” he said finally.

“I didn’t cook for someone who wasn’t going to show up,” you said.

The room went still.

He looked away first. Scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m tired.”

“So am I.”

Your voice cracked on that last word, and he looked at you again—really looked this time. And for a second, something in him softened. Like he saw the version of you that wasn’t angry or nagging or dramatic. Just hurting.

But he didn’t reach for you.

Didn’t say I’m sorry.

Didn’t say I missed you.

Just ran a hand through his hair and said, “Maybe this isn’t working.”

Not working?

Not working?

“You can’t be serious,” You huffed out a bitter laugh. Dante reached for you. You swatted him away. “You… We’ve been together for six months. What the fuck do you mean “Maybe this isn’t working”?”

He stood before you with his arms crossed, white hair still disheveled from his day, eyes narrowed, jaw ticked. “I mean that this…” He answered, gesturing to the space between you and him. “Isn’t working out. I don’t think– I can’t…” He swallowed, “I can’t be the man you need me to be. Not right now.”

“You’re gonna give up on us? Just like that?” You continued, still, with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Then, you stepped forward, raising a hand to reach out for him, “I love you, Dante. You’re not gonna fight for us?”

“This isn’t love,” He spoke, tone final, but the slightest trembling breath beneath his words betrayed his true feelings. His fingers slipped into his hair, trembling as they carded through his white locks and tugged at his roots. “Look at you– you don’t even see the problem. You shouldn’t have to worry about whether or not your boyfriend is gonna come back alive. You shouldn’t have to put your whole life on hold for me. You still have the whole world to see. I don’t want to have to live a double life anymore.”

“Then let me in!” You hissed back. Your arms were crossed, too. “Do you think I like feeling as if I don’t know the man I love? I could take some of the burden off your shoulders, Dante, if you just–”

“Enough,” Dante sucked his teeth. “I don’t want you wasting your life away worrying over me,” After a lengthy pause, he continued, “All we ever do is fight and fight and fight– I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore, not with you. You’d be much happier without me.”

He was probably right.

“Oh, fuck you,” you shouted, your voice cracking with fury, but even then, it wasn’t enough to hide the way your heart was shattering inside your chest. When your eyes finally met his, you knew he felt the heat of it—anger and hurt and betrayal, all coiled together like fire licking at his skin.

“You’re not going to decide what’s best for me.”

“Yes, I am,” he snapped, cold and absolute.

You took a step forward, trembling, jaw clenched so tight you thought it might break. “You don’t know what’s good for my well-being,” you bit back, chest heaving. “You don’t even know what’s good for your well-being.”

That hit him. You saw it in the way his lips pressed into a thin line, how his teeth caught the inside of his cheek like he was chewing on the guilt. Then he said the words that broke you:

“You could be so much happier without me.”

And just like that, everything inside you stopped.

Something in your gaze must’ve shifted then—something that startled even him. Because the anger didn’t burn quite as bright anymore. The fire was still there, but it flickered lower, smothered by something glassy, something wet clinging to your lashes. It was hurt. Real hurt. Deep, bone-deep heartbreak that swelled until your chest couldn’t contain it.

“Baby…” he sighed, and for the first time, his voice wasn’t sharp. His shoulders dropped like the weight of his decision had finally started to crush him. “I’m sorry. You know I love you. I just… I can’t live with myself knowing that one day I might not come back to you.”

You didn’t say it back.

Not this time.

Even if you wanted to. Even if your love for him still pulsed through every inch of your body, even if it begged for a reason to stay—how could you keep loving someone who was walking away from you like this?

Your lips parted, dry and trembling. You licked them slowly, like maybe the right words would come if you just gave them time. But all you could manage, hoarse and raw, was: “Take your shit…” You swallowed hard. God, it hurt. It hurt worse than anything he could’ve done. “And go.”

He froze.

“What?” he asked, stunned, like he hadn’t expected you to mean it. Like he thought you’d plead. Cry. Kiss him one more time just to remember what it felt like. Like you’d make it easier for him to leave you.

But you didn’t.

“I said…” You looked up at him, every inch of you on fire, your arms folded so tight across your chest they ached. You could feel yourself shaking—fists clenched, breath shallow. “Take your shit… and get the fuck out of my apartment.”

And you meant it.

Even if it destroyed you.

You saw the pain in his eyes then. The flicker of disbelief. The way his entire world seemed to crumble at your feet. Two years. Two whole years. Twenty-four months of laughter, late nights, shared secrets, and silent apologies. A thousand soft I love yous whispered between sheets. A thousand more unspoken.

Was he second-guessing it now? Did he finally realize what he was throwing away?

YOU

|  Guys we’re going out tn.

When you reached the bar, it was still early. There were a few people here, but not too many. The low murmur of voices and clinking glasses provided the background noise that you desperately craved.

You grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a whiskey, the burn in your throat just sharp enough to make you feel something—anything, really. It felt like you were drinking to forget, and the first sip seemed to help, dulling the edges of the ache, if only for a moment.

Your friends noticed you as soon as they walked in. They must have heard the difference in your voice when you answered their text. They could tell something was off, but they didn’t press. Not immediately.

The first drink turned into another. And another. You weren’t trying to get drunk; you were just trying to escape. To lose yourself in the clinking of ice cubes, in the low hum of the bar, in something that wasn’t him. But as the minutes passed, the alcohol didn’t do much to stop your thoughts from spiraling back to him.

You thought about the night before. The argument. His face, so conflicted, yet resolute. The way he walked away without even a second glance, as if he knew the decision he was making was the right one. How could he be so sure? How could he leave you like that?

“Another?” one of your friends asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. She was smiling, but there was a glimmer of concern in her eyes.

You didn’t even think about it before nodding. “Yeah,” you said, a forced smile on your lips. "Just one more."

You didn’t want to talk about Dante. Not yet. You didn’t want to explain to anyone why you felt like the world had been yanked out from under you. But it didn’t matter. Your friends could see it in your eyes. They didn’t need you to say a word.

No, a year ago, your life changed.

So, you can imagine how it felt to walk home from a day spent at the grocery store, bags tucked beneath your arms, and see him standing there.

Dante.

It had been a year since you’d last seen him, and you were doing just fine. Really. A little grocery shopping to get your mind off the usual stuff, a bag of chips here, some pasta there. You didn’t need Dante in your life anymore, and if you were being honest, you were doing better without him. You had a boyfriend now, someone who didn’t make you question your sanity. Things were... uncomplicated.

That was until you turned the corner and saw him.

Dante. Standing there across the street, looking like he’d just stepped out of a scene from some movie you hadn’t signed up for. There he was, all messy hair and that familiar red coat, like he didn’t have a care in the world. You froze for a second, staring at him as if your eyes were playing tricks. Was he actually here? In your world, in your life, right now?

Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he be? The universe had a sick sense of humor.

You immediately felt that familiar wave of annoyance—was it even annoyance? Maybe it was exhaustion, or some mix of both. You adjusted the grocery bags under your arms and took a deep breath. You were doing just fine. He was not about to mess with your day.

But Dante, being Dante, didn’t just stand there. No, he was coming toward you now, his long stride eating up the space between you with an unsettling familiarity.

Great, you thought, shifting the weight of your bags to one side as if they were the only thing that mattered right now. But in truth, you were already calculating the best possible escape route. The crosswalk? Too far. The alley to your left? Maybe, but the sidewalk was too narrow. Okay, girl. Focus.

You picked up the pace, shifting into a power walk as though your life depended on it. Sure, you looked a little ridiculous, but it was a small price to pay for a little peace and quiet. You weren’t looking back. Not now.

Behind you, you could hear Dante’s footsteps closing in, his voice trailing after you, “Hey, wait up!”

But you didn’t wait up. No way.

You’d moved on. You had a boyfriend now, someone who would never make you feel like a damn emotional rollercoaster. Someone who didn’t show up after a year of radio silence with that same unreadable stare, acting like nothing happened. No, Dante. No thank you.

Still, you could hear his footsteps, gaining on you. It was like an unspoken challenge. You had to admit, he wasn’t slow. But neither were you. You adjusted the bags once again—damn, this was turning into a workout—and picked up the pace.

You weren’t going to make it easy for him. You weren’t even going to acknowledge the way your heart still remembered his presence, the way it beat a little faster the closer he got. You weren't going to let yourself get sucked back into that mess.

His voice was closer now. “Come on, just—”

A sigh. You were really doing this, weren’t you?

A glance over your shoulder, just a quick flick of the eyes to see how much ground he’d covered, and what do you know? He was right behind you now, practically breathing down your neck. “I’m just trying to catch up, alright?”

Catch up? You weren’t sure whether to laugh or groan at that. This wasn’t a race, Dante, and you didn’t need a personal trainer chasing you down the sidewalk. You could already feel the annoying tightness in your chest. The one that had always been there whenever he was around, the one that reminded you of how difficult it had been to move on in the first place.

He was getting too close for comfort now, and you could already tell this wasn’t going to end well if you kept this pace. So, against every instinct telling you to keep walking, you slowed down just enough for him to catch up. You didn’t want to, but here he was, breathing like he’d run a marathon just to get you to stop. And for what? So he could talk?

He stopped beside you, his eyes searching your face with that all-too-familiar intensity. His chest heaved slightly, probably from the exertion, but you’d be damned if you showed any signs of weakness.

For a second, he just stood there, catching his breath. You, on the other hand, kept your eyes straight ahead, acting like you hadn’t just sprinted for your life.

“Alright, listen,” he said, voice softer now, “I know I messed up. But can we at least—”

You didn’t even look at him as you interrupted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I can’t. I have to go.”

And that was that. You didn’t need to say anything else. You couldn’t afford to.

You were done.

That night, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, hair tied up into a neat little bonnet. The faucet was running – lukewarm water trickling out – but you weren’t washing up. No, you were standing there, letting the water drip down your eyes, your cheeks, your neck. You were staring at your tired reflection.

You should’ve been washing away the exhaustion of the day, but instead, you just let it fall over you, droplets slipping down your face, down your chest, almost as if you were trying to wash away the past.

But you couldn’t. No matter how much water hit your skin, how much you scrubbed away at your tired reflection, you couldn’t erase him. Dante. He was there, in the back of your mind, in the way your pulse quickened when you saw him again, after all this time. It had been a year, and yet, when you looked at him across the street, the world seemed to stop for a moment. It was like stepping back into a dream.

You hadn’t realized how much of your heart you’d given to him, how much of yourself you’d let him take. And then, nothing. No texts, no calls, no explanation. Just silence, stretching on for months, the gap between you two growing wider, until you started to convince yourself that maybe that was for the best. Maybe you were better off without him, your life finally starting to take shape without the constant ache of waiting for him to come back, to acknowledge the mess he left behind.

Cupping your hands beneath the faucet, you splashed some more water onto your face. God, I need therapy.

But, being that your current rent situation didn’t exactly permit a visit to the psychologist at the moment, you threw your favorite fuzzy robe over your satin cami and shorts, popping your feet into your beat up pink slippers. You shuffled right over to your bedroom and plopped down onto the bed, limbs falling uselessly to the mattress.

Kill me, you thought.

That wasn’t viable, though. So, instead, you reached into your nightstand (past the vibrator you had bought eight months ago during the worst part of your dry streak) and pulled out a sheet mask. Biting into the package, you opened it and pulled the slimy thing out. The serum melted into your skin as you laid it over your face, leaning your head back against the pillows and relaxing for the first time in what felt like ages.

Your head was blissfully empty. There were no thoughts of men with precarious jobs and swords and… devilishly handsome faces. No, it was just you. You and your favorite pajamas and your favorite skincare routine.

You flicked the TV on. You didn’t have to change it back to your favorite channel. No, that was the glory of having a shitty little apartment in the city to yourself. It was on the same channel you left off on – your favorite drama.

The characters buzzed to life. You set the remote down and watched.

The characters on screen started a new conflict, one that you knew would keep you hooked for the next hour. You sank deeper into the couch, letting the familiar warmth of your apartment wash over you. Everything was quiet. Peaceful. The kind of quiet that only comes when you're truly alone.

Then, the sound came. A soft knock at the window outside your room, followed by a long, drawn-out silence. Your heart skipped, the peace broken. You froze, eyes still locked on the TV, the characters' voices fading into the background as your mind reeled. It was too late for anyone to be outside. Too late for anything normal to be happening. Another knock, louder this time. A rhythmic tap that sent a shiver down your spine. You slowly turned your head toward the window, your pulse quickening.

Oh, God, you thought. I’m going to die.

Still, because you couldn’t exactly ignore the sound, you slid out of your warm, comfortable bed and into your slippers once more. Then, hesitating every single step of the way, you snuck into the living room, glancing around in search of the source of the sound.

Another knock. This one louder. You held your breath, hand hovering just above the blinds. It was coming from outside. No one else came to your apartment at this hour. You knew who it had to be.

You glanced down.

There, crouched on the balcony just below your window, was Dante. His face was half-lit by the streetlights, a little smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he waved at you. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, like he hadn’t disappeared for an entire year. Like you hadn’t spent every sleepless night wondering if he was dead or alive, missing his presence as if your heart had been torn in half.

The audacity of it. There he was, grinning like nothing had changed. His hair was messy, his eyes gleaming with that same mischievous spark that used to drive you crazy. The same spark that made your chest ache, even now.

“He cannot be serious,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper, but he caught it, his grin widening.

You could almost feel his eyes on you, waiting, daring you to say something. But you couldn’t. What could you even say?

All you could do was crack the window open.

“Sorry,” He huffed out a laugh. A familiar one. One you… kinda missed, actually. “I tried calling, but I think you blocked my number.”

“I got a new phone,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose and squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make this situation any better – as if you would open your eyes and he wouldn’t be here.

But he was. 

“What the fuck are you even doing here– I mean– the balcony, Dante, really?” You threw your hands out, eyes full of exasperation. “You could have knocked at the door like a normal person.”

“Would you have answered?” He asked. “If you knew it was me?”

“Probably not,” You replied honestly. “I should leave you out here to freeze to death.”

“Oh, right, about that,” He laughed, rubbing the back of his head abashedly. The entire encounter was so absurd that a part of you firmly believed you were dreaming. “I found out I’m, like… half demon. Crazy, right? So I don’t think I would freeze to death. Demon stamina, or whatever.”

Demon stamina. You thought. Right. Definitely awake right now.

Still, that would certainly explain his… endurance.

“Okay…” You had many, many questions, but that was the only thing you could muster, “Should I be… scared?”

What the fuck is going on?

In all honesty, if he told you that the world was ending tomorrow, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“Nah,” He waved your concerns away with the back of his hand. “I’d never hurt you. Except for… well, when I broke up with you. That’s why I came here, actually. Sorry about that. I’ve done some reflection and I…” Suddenly appearing rather nervous, he trailed off, “I fucked up. I was a real asshole to you back then. God, this is hard.”

Your arms dropped to your sides as you stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “You’re… ridiculous.”

“I know,” Dante said, hands up like he was surrendering. “But hear me out—”

“No, no. You don’t get to just Spider-Man your way onto my balcony, confess your demon heritage, and then act like this is normal,” you said, pointing to him like you were trying to make sense of a hallucination. “You broke up with me out of nowhere. Then you vanished. For a year, Dante. Not a word. Not even a shitty text.”

“I didn’t have a phone,” he replied, offended. “I was on a mission. I was in Hell.”

You snorted. “Oh, please.”

He blinked at you. Then, very seriously, he hissed out, “No, I was literally in Hell. For a year. You can’t imagine what that was like for me.”

“Oh my god.” You pressed your fingers to your temples. “You’re insane. Hell? Really?”

“I’m not making it up! You think I wanted to ghost you for twelve months?”

“Well, you kind of did. You broke up with me, remember?” You crossed your arms. “Said I should forget you. That I should move on.”

A pregnant pause.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he muttered.

“Well, congrats. I moved on. I did the whole crying on the bathroom floor thing, I got a therapist, I drank my sorrows away, I bought this plant—” You gestured wildly at the lonely fern in the corner. “His name is Rico. And he’s thriving. Without you.”

Rico was not, in fact, thriving. He was an exotic plant. One you had purchased on impulse at a farmer’s market that you definitely should have researched prior. He wasn’t doing too well cooped up inside of your apartment in New York City. Who would?

Dante crouched down, tilting his head, squinting at Rico. “Looks a little dehydrated.”

You glared. “So do you. What do you even want, Dante?”

His mouth opened, then closed. He looked down for a second, suddenly quiet. “I want a do-over.”

You stared at him.

“I didn’t have much control over the whole… trapped-in-hell thing,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck again, “but I wasn’t happy with how we ended things. I could’ve been better to you. I kept rehearsing what I’d say to you if I ever saw you again, but I wasn’t expecting it to actually happen.”

He’s not being serious

… Is he?

One look at him, and you knew he was.

You let out a long, flat breath. “We can’t.”

“Why?”

You raised your brows. “Because we can’t,” you said again, quieter this time. And this time, it hurt.

“Why?” He asked, as if you hadn’t made yourself perfectly clear. “I’ve changed, honest. The past year I spent without you, I realized how good you were to me. How I took you for granted – I don’t wanna let you go. I don’t wanna make the same mistake twice.”

Aw, you thought, That’s… kinda sweet, actually.

No. Stop that.

Instead, you propped your hand up on your hip, “Does that mean you won’t be here on my balcony ever again?”

He paused, pursed his lips. “Okay, maybe I would,” He finally admitted. “But if you would let me in–”

You cut him off right then and there, rolling your eyes. “I can’t, Dante. I have a fucking boyfriend.”

That hit its mark.

His mouth opened, then closed again. The silence that followed made you uncomfortable in a way only Dante could manage—equal parts awkward and guilty. He looked down at the floor of the balcony like maybe it had some hidden message for him.

“Oh…” he murmured. “Oh. You… You really moved on.”

“Something like that.” You shrugged, trying not to sound as tired as you felt. “That’s what happens when you disappear for a year. Life goes on.”

“Not for me,” he muttered, lips curling downward into a pout that would’ve been funny if it didn’t come attached to so much damn history. “Fuck that guy. I could treat you way better, honest.” Then he added, almost too fast, like it slipped out before he could filter it, “I could probably fuck you better, too—”

He probably could. Honestly, your current sex life with your current boyfriend wasn’t the greatest. Still, he was consistent. He didn’t leave you hanging for nights in a row, wondering if he would come home. Not to mention the fact that, when you were with Dante, well…

You had some of the loveliest orgasms you had ever had. On the bed, on the floor, on the kitchen counter. The kind of orgasm you hadn’t achieved once since he had left. Not with your vibrator, and certainly not with your new boyfriend.

Your stare could’ve burned through glass. “I have to be up early tomorrow.”

He had the decency to look vaguely ashamed, but not enough to shut up. “Did you come here just to ask for a do-over?” you asked, already backing toward the window.

“No,” he said, and then paused. “Yes. I don’t know. Maybe.”

You almost respected his commitment. Almost.

You didn’t respond right away, just stared at him— hair as white as starlight, red leather coat, sword still strapped to his back, ridiculous expression like he genuinely thought charm could undo the year-long hole he’d left in your life. The silence made him fidget, scuffing the toe of his boot against the concrete.

“What do I have to do to convince you?”

You sighed. You really sighed this time, long and from the chest, because there was no point in even pretending this wasn’t exhausting.

“Goodnight, Dante,” you said.

Then… you shut the window.

The next day came with no promises of peace.

You were behind the counter at the diner, hair tied back, apron smudged with flour, oil, and maybe a little bit of your sanity. The coffee machine hissed in protest as you filled another mug for a trucker in the corner booth. Your feet hurt. Your head hurt. But at least it was a different kind of ache than the one Dante stirred up last night.

And then, like the universe had a personal vendetta against your emotional wellbeing, the bell above the door jingled.

You didn’t have to look up.

You felt him walk in—like some twisted sixth sense. The air shifted, and you could practically smell the cologne he always wore, something smoky and leather-soft. A second later, a voice followed.

“Damn. This place got a lot prettier since I was last here.”

You looked up anyway. Because of course you did.

There he was. Dante. Leaning casually against the host stand, all devil-may-care charm and a ridiculous leather jacket that made him look like he belonged anywhere but this greasy spoon diner. His eyes found you immediately.

You blinked slowly, then turned back to the coffee pot. “I swear to God,” you muttered under your breath, “I’m gonna lose my mind.”

He strolled right up to the counter, pulling up a stool like he hadn’t trespassed on your balcony twelve hours ago. Like he hadn’t cracked open an old wound and kissed the air with apologies.

“You look good in that apron,” he said, grinning.

You didn’t bother looking at him this time. “You look like someone who doesn’t tip well.”

“I tip amazing,” he argued. “Just like I–”

“Do me a favor and don’t finish that sentence,” you warned, grabbing a towel and wiping down a clean patch of counter for the hundredth time. “Have you always been this petulant or is it something in the air?”

“I’m a lot of things,” he said, shrugging innocently. “I’m a man of many talents. Want me to prove it? I’ve got time.”

Oh my god.

You finally turned to face him. “Do you not have demons to fight or… hell dimensions to get trapped in again?”

He laughed. “You remembered.”

You deadpanned, “How could I forget? It’s not every day your ex disappears into Hell without a cell phone.”

Dante lifted his hands like he was surrendering. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair. But look—I just thought we could talk. Maybe over some waffles? Syrup fixes a lot.”

You were already shaking your head. “No. Nope. I’m not doing this with you. Not here.”

“I’ll be good,” he said, drawing an imaginary halo over his head with his fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout,” you replied flatly.

“And you were never this mean to me,” he said with mock hurt.

“You were never this annoying. Go piss off somewhere. You had no problems leaving me alone for a year,” you shot back. Then you waved down one of your coworkers—a sweet girl named Lila with a bright smile and no idea what kind of emotional tornado she was about to serve.

“Hey, Lila?” you called. “Can you take counter stool three for me?”

She blinked. “Uh, sure. You okay?”

“Peachy,” you said, handing her a menu. “He’s all yours.”

Dante blinked as Lila approached with her notepad, looking confused and a little betrayed. “Wait, seriously?”

You leaned over the counter slightly, voice low. “You want waffles? Order them. You want closure? Write a poem.”

And then you walked away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t have to. The ache in your chest was enough to tell you exactly what kind of expression he wore.

The living room was dark, lit only by the bluish haze of the TV screen flashing between killstreaks and loading screens. Your boyfriend was sunk deep into the couch, legs wide, controller gripped like a lifeline. He hadn’t looked at you in over twenty minutes, completely absorbed in his game, spewing half-hearted trash talk at some twelve-year-old with better aim and a louder mic.

You shifted beside him, stretching a little, brushing your leg against his. Nothing. So you leaned over, nuzzling your nose lightly against his neck, just beneath his jaw.

“Hey,” you murmured, your voice soft and sweet. You let your fingers slide down his chest, slow and teasing. “Want to take a little break?”

He flinched—not from desire, but because someone on screen shot him. Again.

“Babe, not now,” he mumbled, eyes glued to the game. “I’m in ranked.”

You pulled back a bit, blinking, mouth falling open in disbelief. “Seriously?”

He didn’t look at you. Just kept clicking buttons, dead focused on the screen. “Yeah, just like… fifteen more minutes. Can you make dinner or something?”

You stared at him, chest hollowing out in quiet, stunned offense. You’d offered him your body. He asked for food.

There was a moment of silence. Your hand dropped from his chest.

You sat back against the cushion, a little colder now, teeth pressing into your bottom lip. And that was when Dante’s voice—his voice—echoed in your head from the night before.

“Fuck that guy. I could treat you way better, honest. I could probably fuck you better, too—”

You closed your eyes briefly, scoffing under your breath. God, he was ridiculous. And yet…

You pushed yourself off the couch wordlessly, heading to the kitchen without a sound.

Behind you, your boyfriend called out, “You’re the best, babe!”

You didn’t answer. Not with words. Just slammed the fridge door a little harder than necessary.

And in the back of your mind, Dante's voice lingered like a splinter.

You turned the stove on, lips pressed into a thin, tired line. Maybe later you’d lie down and try to remember what it felt like to be romanced by someone who didn’t treat Call of Duty like a second girlfriend.

One incredibly sexless night later, you took the evening to decompress. That is, you lit up some candles, had a few slices of the pie you’d kept in your fridge for days just like this one, and blocked off an hour for the sole purpose of masturbation. 

What? You needed it.

The apartment was warm, dimly lit, perfectly still. You’d even put your phone on Do Not Disturb, because tonight was about you. Your fingers itched with anticipation as you laid out your night like a ritual: the robe slipping lower on your shoulder, the cool sheets turned down, your favorite toy already waiting on the nightstand like a promise.

God. You needed this. You were wound tight. Between work, the complete lack of passion from the man you were dating, and that absolutely deranged balcony visit from Dante… you were more than pent up. You were practically vibrating with unmet desire.

You let out a long, dramatic exhale, sinking down into your mattress with the kind of grace usually reserved for tragic heroines. Just you, a flickering candle, and the fantasy of literally anyone but your boyfriend.

You reached for the waistband of your pajama shorts.

Knock, knock.

Your hand froze.

You stared at the ceiling. Maybe it was a neighbor. Maybe someone had the wrong door.

Knock, knock. Louder this time. Three slow raps, followed by silence.

You sat up slowly, groaning into the air. Then, begrudgingly, you stuffed your vibrator back into the drawer, kicking your feet over the edge of the bed and walking into the living room. It was dark, of course, so you flicked on a light. When you stared into the peephole of your front door, it took all of the strength you had to not bang your head against the door.

It was Dante. Again. No leather jacket this time, just a black hoodie, hands jammed into the pockets of his sweatpants.

You blinked, then groaned into the back of your hand.

Another knock, like he heard you. And then, muffled through the wood, his voice.

“I can hear you in there. Demon hearing, remember?” He brought his head up to the peephole, staring right back at you. “I know it’s late, Just… let me talk to you? For just a second? Please?”

You pulled the door open.

Dante stood there in the dim hallway light, hair windswept, hands in his pockets like he’d been pacing outside for a while, working up the nerve. His gaze moved over your face with a kind of stunned reverence, like he hadn’t really believed he’d see you again.

“Hey, princess,” he said.

There it was. That nickname. The one you hadn’t heard in a year.

You stepped aside without a word. He walked in like the place still remembered him. Or maybe you did.

The door clicked shut behind you.

You didn’t speak. You leaned against the wall, arms crossed tight over your chest, watching him watch the room like it had changed without him. It had. You had. But he still looked at you like he saw the girl you were a year ago. That girl who let him ruin her, and smiled while doing it.

“I couldn’t stay away,” he said, voice low. “I tried.”

“Did you?” You answered.

“Okay, not really,” He looked at you again, more serious now. “I keep thinking about you. All the time. You’re in my head constantly, like—fuck—I’ll be walking down the street and I’ll see something and just need to tell you about it.”

You laughed. Just once. It came out bitter and exhausted. “Keep it to yourself.”

“I missed talking to you about anything,” he said. “Everything.”

You shook your head, pushing off the wall, pacing just a little—like if you kept moving, you wouldn’t fall for this again. “You don’t get to come back after vanishing for a year and say shit like that.”

“I know. I know I don’t,” he said quickly, stepping toward you. “But I can’t pretend anymore. I’ve been trying to act like– like I’m not completely in love with you still, and it’s killing me.”

Your breath caught.

After all of this time?

His hands reached for yours before you could stop him. You let him take them.

Okay… what the fuck is going on?

“You deserve someone who sees you. Someone who treats you like you matter every second of the day,” he said. “Someone who doesn’t take you for granted. I could be that. I want to be that.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Because you’d heard those words before, from people who never meant them. From the person you’d curled up beside just last night, feeling more alone than ever. And yet here Dante was, saying all the right things—but he hadn’t even asked. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know how long it had been since someone had touched you like they meant it.

Your voice came out hoarse. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” he whispered. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “I think about you when I’m trying to sleep. I think about your laugh. Your stupid, shitty taste in TV. Your coffee order. The movies you like. I want that back. I want you back.”

You yanked your hands away, jaw tight.

He’s got a lot of fucking nerve.

“Don’t do this,” you said. “Don’t show up and say these things and make me feel like this again. You don’t even know what you left behind.”

He looked at you, eyes open and raw. “Then tell me. Let me make it right.”

“Go away, Dante.” you snapped.

Silence fell between you like a slammed door. You turned your back to him, trying to catch your breath.

Then he stepped in behind you.

Not touching, not quite—but close enough that you felt the heat of him. Close enough that your body remembered every inch of him like a phantom limb. 

“Hey,” he murmured. “I know I fucked up. Can you be… like, not so mad? Just for two seconds?”

His hand slid to your hip, turning you gently toward him. You let him, still trembling, still so full of everything you never got to say.

“I’ve been in love with you this whole time,” he whispered. “And I’m so fucking sorry.”

The words were genuine. Genuine enough that you felt the tears begin to prickle at your eyes all over again – emotional at the mere thought of him, because truthfully?

You missed him, too. You just didn’t want to admit it. You missed the late nights and later mornings. You missed waking up next to him, hearing him talk about his crazy adventures as a demon hunter. You missed his kisses, the smell of him, his everything.

And, God, the sex… The sex was great.

He was taller than you. Always had been. But in that moment, it felt impossible not to notice how much he towered over you—how his shadow swallowed yours, how the air itself seemed to dip around him. You didn’t want to look up at him, but you did.

You stood frozen, breath shallow, pulse racing in your throat. You didn’t want this. You shouldn’t want this. But here you were, locked in place, every part of you screaming to walk away, and every part of you still craving the comfort of his touch.

“Please…” You whispered, trying to fight the overwhelming tide of emotion. “Please, Dante. Just go.”

His expression softened, like he hadn’t expected that—like he was expecting something more. You felt his fingers on your waist now, and they were warm, pressing gently into your skin. There was no escape now. You weren’t sure you wanted to run anymore, not when it felt like your body was already betraying you.

“I shouldn’t be here, I know,” he said, his voice quieter now. The distance between you seemed to vanish with each word. “But I couldn’t stay away. I tried to forget about you, I tried so damn hard, but I couldn’t. I don’t want to.”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “Don’t, Dante. I can’t… I can’t do this.”

His eyes searched yours, the guilt and longing mixing together in a way that made your heart ache. He was close now, so close that you could feel his breath against your skin. You knew what was coming, but you didn’t stop him. Not yet.

“I know I fucked up,” he whispered again, more softly this time. “But I love you. I never stopped. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t. I just—I can’t be without you.”

And then, without waiting for another word, he leaned in.

His lips touched yours, slow and deliberate, as if giving you time to pull away. But you didn’t. You didn’t stop him. For that moment, for that brief, heart-stopping moment, you let yourself fall back into the pull of him. Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching at his jacket like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

God, I missed this.

You melted against him, a wave of relief crashing over you as his kiss deepened, more urgent, more desperate. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, and you responded without thinking, your body moving instinctively against his. He groaned low in his throat, his hand sliding to your neck, the other pressing you closer.

You kissed him back like you were starving, like you had been dying for this. And for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered—like the last year of silence, the hurt, the betrayal, all of it faded away in the heat of his mouth on yours.

But then, just as quickly as the warmth had started, it turned cold.

You pulled away, gasping for air. Your chest heaved with the sudden rush of emotion. You couldn’t do this. Not again. Not after everything. Your hands shook as you pushed against his chest, creating just enough space to break the connection.

“No,” you said, your voice breaking as you stepped back, wiping at your eyes. “No. I can’t do this. I won’t.”

He blinked at you, stunned, his face pale, but he didn’t move. His eyes were full of confusion, pain, and something darker that you didn’t want to see.

“I can’t,” you repeated, voice steadying with every word. You took another step back, hand reaching for the door. “We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

There it was.

“I’m sorry, Dante,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I really am.”

He stared at you for a long moment, and for the briefest second, you saw a flicker of something in his eyes – something devastating.

But then, he nodded. The motion was slow, almost resigned, and he took a step back. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the door. As he passed you, he stopped for a moment, his gaze lingering on you one last time.

“I got a new phone. Same number,” he said, his voice raw. “You know who to call if you change your mind.”

And then, he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed was deafening.

You were sitting on the couch, the faint sounds of your boyfriend’s video game drifting from the other room, mingling with the hum of the refrigerator. You hated that noise—hated the sound of him so effortlessly immersed in a world that wasn’t yours, that didn’t care about the growing tension between the two of you. You tried to focus on the TV, tried to let the sitcom's canned laughter drown out the gnawing discomfort in your stomach. But it wasn’t working. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Dante had said.

I could treat you so much better.

Those words. God, they kept coming back to you. You didn’t want them to. You didn’t want to feel them pushing into every corner of your mind, making you question everything you thought you knew. But they did. And you were alone with those thoughts now. Alone with your insecurities that you usually kept locked away.

You huffed, pulling the blanket tighter around you as if it could protect you from the storm of doubt forming in your chest. You shouldn’t be thinking about him—about Dante. You should be thinking about how your boyfriend had been in and out of your life, barely there, barely present, always distracted. But the longer you sat there, the more it seemed like it was all just a reflection of the way you felt inside: disconnected, hollowed out, drifting.

And then, as if fate was timing it just perfectly, he left his phone on the counter.

Your breath caught, the phone staring at you like a challenge, like an invitation. You told yourself you wouldn’t. You promised you wouldn’t invade his privacy like this. But your fingers itched to touch it, to confirm the sinking feeling in your stomach that something—someone—wasn't right.

You pushed yourself off the couch, the decision feeling both slow and inevitable as you walked toward the kitchen. The phone sat innocently on the counter, waiting. You took a breath, a shaky, hesitant inhale. You could walk away. You could pretend you didn’t see it.

But you didn’t.

You picked it up, unlocking it with a simple swipe. Your heart hammered in your chest, adrenaline kicking in as if you were about to do something reckless. The phone screen lit up with messages from some unnamed number. And when you saw the first message, your throat tightened.

"I miss you so much. When can I see you again?"

It hit you hard. Like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t even had time to react before your eyes were scanning the next message, then the next, your stomach sinking deeper and deeper with every word.

“Last night was incredible. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

A sharp, painful gasp escaped you before you could stop it. You clutched the phone tighter, staring at the words, and then—bam—it all crashed into you. You hadn’t been wrong. You hadn’t been imagining the distance, the emotional coldness that had settled between you and your boyfriend. There it was, in black and white—proof of his betrayal.

You felt like you were drowning, suffocating under the weight of it all. This wasn’t just about the messages. It was about everything. About the endless late nights when he came home late from “work,” about the weekends when he’d disappear into his own world, leaving you to figure out where you fit into it. And now this—this confirmation that the man you had been with for so long wasn’t who you thought he was.

You could almost hear Dante’s voice again in your head. I could treat you so much better. The words felt like salt in a wound you hadn’t even realized you had, their presence almost suffocating in the quiet of your kitchen. Were you settling? Were you really going to let this happen? Let yourself get swallowed by someone who couldn’t even give you the decency of respect?

You exhaled sharply, your pulse quickening as the next message flashed on the screen.

“I can’t wait to see you again, babe.”

Babe.

The word made you sick, twisting your stomach into knots. You didn’t know why it bothered you so much—maybe because it wasn’t meant for you. Maybe because it was meant for someone else. Someone who got his attention, who got his time, his affection. It wasn’t you. You were just the woman he settled for, the one who wasn’t good enough for the effort.

The room felt too small, the air too thick, and you suddenly hated everything about this moment. The phone in your hand, the pit in your stomach, the way you had let things go on for this long. You could feel the tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You weren’t going to cry over this. You weren’t going to let him have that power over you.

But just as quickly, the rush of hurt was replaced by something else—a sharp anger that burned through you like fire. You weren’t going to keep doing this. You weren’t going to keep letting him make you feel small. You weren’t going to keep standing by, pretending that nothing was wrong when everything was falling apart around you.

You weren’t going to be the backup. The woman who stayed even though she knew she deserved more.

The sound of footsteps from the other room snapped you out of your thoughts, and you shoved the phone down onto the counter, just as your boyfriend entered the kitchen. His voice was casual, too casual, as if nothing had changed.

“Hey, babe. You alright?” He asked, glancing over at you.

You didn’t respond right away. You just stared at him, your chest tight with all the words you didn’t want to say, the emotions you didn’t know how to handle.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The raw anger, the aching disappointment—it was all building up inside you, suffocating you. You stood there in the kitchen, phone still in your hand, his lies echoing in your mind. Every text, every word, had become a blade, slicing through your trust, through your relationship. And now, standing face-to-face with him, it all came to a boiling point.

You couldn’t help it.

You walked up to him, eyes burning with fury, and before he could even open his mouth to explain himself, your hand shot out. The slap echoed through the small apartment, sharp and loud, breaking the tense silence between you.

His head jerked to the side from the impact. He didn’t even seem surprised. But you could see the flicker of guilt in his eyes. Too late for that.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your voice trembled with rage as the words spilled out. “You think I wouldn’t find out? You think I’m some kind of idiot, just sitting here while you lie to my face?”

He reached up, touching his cheek, and for a moment, he looked almost confused. “What the hell are you talking abou–”

“No.” You cut him off, stepping back, trying to breathe, to stop the angry tears from spilling over. “Don’t even try. I’ve been here, okay? I’ve been here, giving you everything, and this is how you repay me?”

You could feel the walls around you closing in. The kitchen—the place where you had made so many meals together, laughed together, fought together—it suddenly felt suffocating. This wasn’t your home anymore. It wasn’t the place you thought it was.

“I trusted you,” you spat, your voice cracking. “I trusted you, and you went behind my back. All this time, you were texting her—her—while I was sitting here, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.”

His eyes widened, but then he scoffed, trying to brush it off. “Come on, it’s not like that. She’s just—”

“Don’t!” You interrupted again, shaking your head, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care what excuses you’ve got. I don’t want to hear how you’re ‘sorry’ and how ‘it wasn’t like that’ because it was. I saw the texts. I saw everything.”

There was a cold silence, the weight of your words hanging heavily between you. He was quiet now, eyes downcast, as if he didn’t know what to say. Maybe he had no idea how to fix it—because there was no fixing it. Not this time.

“Do you even care?” You whispered, feeling the heartbreak seep into your bones. “Do you even care that you’ve been hurting me this whole time?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you could see the hesitation in his eyes. He was trying to form the right words, trying to make it sound like he cared, like he had some kind of reason, but it was too late for that.

“No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I’m done.”

He froze. For the first time in what felt like ages, there was an almost desperate look in his eyes. “Wait—what? You can’t—”

“Don’t try to stop me.” You took a deep breath, the anger dissipating just enough to feel the weight of the pain. “I’m not staying here. I’m not going to keep putting myself through this. I’m done.”

His face fell. You could see the regret in his eyes, but you didn’t care anymore. You couldn’t. Not after everything. Not after what you’d just found out.

You turned your back on him, heading for the bedroom to grab your things. You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. You could feel the tension in the air, but you refused to acknowledge it. Not anymore. You were done.

You grabbed your bag—your jacket, your wallet, your keys—and made your way toward the door. Every step felt heavy, like you were walking away from something you had invested so much of yourself into, and yet, there was a strange sense of relief settling in your chest. You were leaving behind a lie, a hollow version of something you had once wanted to be real. 

You were leaving him.

“Wait,” he called out, his voice strained. “Please, don’t go. We can fix this. We can talk—”

But you didn’t listen. You opened the door, stepping out into the hallway, and closed it behind you. The sound of it was final. You didn’t want to hear his excuses anymore. You didn’t want to be with someone who could betray you like this.

Still, weak thing that you were, you began to cry.

“I got a new phone. Same number,” he said, his voice raw. “You know who to call if you change your mind.”

As you walked down the hallway, your phone felt heavy in your pocket. You didn’t want to look at it. 

But then, your fingers moved of their own accord, slipping the phone out of your pocket.

And there it was: Dante’s old number.

The one you’d saved with the naive hope that he might have called. You hadn’t thought about it in a while. You hadn’t dared to reach out to him—hadn’t dared to even look at his name on your phone. But now, standing there in the hallway, your heart pounding, your chest tight from everything you’d just left behind, you thought about what he’d said to you.

I could treat you better. 

I’ve always been in love with you.

A cold shiver ran down your spine at the thought. You could still hear his voice in your head, still feel the weight of his words.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, uncertainty swirling inside you. You didn’t know why you were doing this. You didn’t know what you hoped to get from it, but you couldn’t shake the pull. You wanted—needed—someone who saw you. Someone who cared.

So, in a moment of weakness, you typed the words.

YOU: I need you.

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself. The words felt foreign, too raw, too vulnerable, but you couldn’t take them back now.

a/n: ok so whenn i say this is gonna be short... i MEAN IT THIS TIME LOL..... maybe. anyway! part two is almost done, so comment what you thought, let me know what you'd like to see, what you loved, etc! until next time, my loves x not sure why this got deleted? but ok

I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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wanna join the taglist? | pretty ; chapter index

Ngl im CRAVING dante content from the netflix adaptation and its not even funny anymore...

Trust im boutta BUST

Steamin Hot!

The door shut with a familiar thunk—heavy, careless, like the man himself. You didn’t even flinch.

You’d grown used to it: the clink of his weapons, the way he dropped his coat on your chair like it wasn’t your favorite, how his boots always left demon gunk on the rug you’d begged him not to ruin.

And still, your stomach fluttered.

He was already halfway to the bathroom, shirt hanging from his shoulder, the slice of pizza you’d made him take on the way up still dangling from his mouth like an afterthought.

"Long day?" you asked without looking up from your spot on the couch, cross-legged and wrapped in one of his shirts—oversized, a little torn, and still warm from the dryer.

Dante grunted. "Demons don’t take weekends. Apparently" He bit the slice, chewed, and finally turned to look at you. "You wearing my shirt again?"

You smirked, flipping the page of your book. "You left it here. Possession’s nine-tenths of the law"

"Is that so?" he muttered, already tugging off his belt. "Guess I should start leaving more stuff around, then"

You didn’t look—but you felt it. The weight of his stare. That flicker of something heavier behind the teasing. He was tired. You could see it in the way his shoulders slumped just before he disappeared into the bathroom, muttering something about "needing to boil off the stink"

The sound of the shower filled the apartment a moment later—hot, hissing steam bleeding into the hallway like smoke curling off a cigarette. You let out a slow breath and stared at your book without reading.

Five minutes passed. Ten.

You heard the water stop.

He didn’t come out right away.

Eventually, the door cracked open.

You didn’t look at first. You were trying to be normal. Chill. Unbothered.

But then you caught the sound of his bare feet padding across your wooden floor—and the scent hit you. Clean skin. Soap. A little sweat, still. All him.

He appeared beside the couch like a ghost: towel low on his hips, hair wet and slicked back except for the few silver strands that clung rebelliously to his forehead. Drops of water rolled down the carved lines of his torso, trailing down into the soft dip of his abs. His necklace—the one he never took off—glinted against his chest.

"Shower’s all yours" he said lazily.

You finally looked up, slowly, your eyes trailing from his face to the rest of him with zero shame. "Did you even dry off or did you just steamroll out to flex?"

He smirked, one corner of his mouth tugging up. "Can’t help it if you’re the one staring, sweetheart"

You tossed a pillow at him. He caught it effortlessly, didn’t even flinch.

"Cocky bastard"

"Your cocky bastard" he said, dropping the pillow and then—uninvited—dropping himself onto the couch next to you, his skin still warm and damp. "Unless that changed while I was gone"

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t move. His thigh pressed against yours. You could feel every heartbeat in that contact.

"I don’t know," you murmured, "depends. You planning on stealing all my hot water every time you crash here?"

He leaned in, slow, so close his breath brushed your cheek. "Maybe"

You swallowed. Your brain short-circuited for a second.

Dante noticed.

His grin deepened, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he reached behind you—his arm brushing your back—and grabbed a piece of cold pizza from the coffee table, taking a bite with zero shame.

"I hate you" you said softly.

"No, you don’t"

"No, I don’t" you agreed, even softer.

He leaned back, stretching with a low groan, his head tipping back against the cushion. The tension in his body—always there, even when he laughed—slowly melted out of him. His chest reflecting the light. His jaw relaxed.

You tilted your head, watching him.

He looked… younger like this. Almost soft.

"You okay?" you asked, nudging his knee with yours.

He cracked one eye open. "Took a demon’s blade through the ribs. You tell me"

You frowned instantly. "Dante—"

"Relax" he said, waving you off, but his hand found your thigh, grounding himself. "Didn’t hit anything vital. You’d be crying over my corpse if it did"

"I wouldn’t cry"

He looked over at you, serious for a flicker of a second. "Yeah, you would"

That shut you up. His hand stayed on your thigh.

You leaned into him, shoulder to bare chest. He didn’t move away.

Minutes passed like that. Just the two of you, half-dressed and quiet in your cluttered little apartment. The night hummed around you. Steam still curled in the hallway. The city beyond your window was loud and filthy and alive.

You turned your head slightly. "Hey"

He looked down.

You pressed your lips to his—quick, soft, but enough to remind him.

I’m here. You’re not alone.

When you pulled back, Dante blinked once.

Then he leaned in and kissed you again—slower. Thicker with something unspoken. His hand gripped your thigh tighter.

"You’re damn dangerous" he murmured against your lips.

You smirked. “hilarious coming from you"

⋅°₊ ♱ — oh, it's DANTE (reader!fem.)

Of course, you had no idea, or notion, that your plans for the evening would be to lie on an old, dirty leather sofa and, perhaps, with a little mold in a room that was also old. — Even maintaining an acceptable appearance, not to mention the presence of good, reusable real estate. — Looking at the peeling ceiling, as if it would fall at any moment.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't more used to that place than you should be. — Just like you were used to a needy demon hunter lying on top of you. — Classic.

“Did you say something, big boy?” — You asked, dedicating small and slow caresses to the boy's white hair; causing a moment of drowsiness, mixed with his need and need, for him. — Dante stammered, murmured words, completely, incomprehensible to understand.

Nothing out of the ordinary, in Dante's context. — The hunter's huge, strong body hid you, without any problems and with intention; as if he had swallowed you whole, it was ridiculous. — But not for him, of course. — He loved it.

No, actually, and always wanting to be honest with himself, that man loved the way his face was centered, in a playful and delightful way, on yours boobs. — Oh, Dante would give his life, both for you, faithfully, and to stay for the rest of his life with his face buried there. — He didn't hide it, and there was no reason to; Dante would follow his passion, his obsession.

“Dante?” — ​​Your low, restless voice, you questioned, again feeling his deep, muffled voice, becoming more of a growl than anything else, causing a tremor on your skin. — “Hey!” — Gloved hands, which were attached to your waist, ran a path from your ribs to the voluminous area and around your breasts. — Miserable, naughty and perverted.

In the curve of yours boobs, and without waiting for another word to come out of your mouth, Dante squeezed them; in the white-haired man's vocabulary, it was a gentle and affectionate massage. — You pretended to believe in this “love language” of your boyfriend, you pretended. — Producing another vibration, through the bold and excited laughter, in your body; awkwardly raising his head, placing a small and playful kiss on your neck.

“Honey, being between these two beauties is heaven for me.” — He sighed dramatically, being stared at by a slightly disbelieving and defiant expression on your face. — “I don’t know what i would do without them.” — With his index finger, he traced her right breast, feeling the material of your bra under your shirt; the shameless man bit his lower lip, trying unsuccessfully to hide his lascivious smile. — “I really don’t know.”

“I’m going to kill you, Dante.” — You pretended not to like that attention, but you knew you couldn’t escape the damn hunter.

“Oh, let it be with them then, ma'am.”

Imagine Helping Dante Shave

Dante X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Suggestive themes, steam

Word Count: 1.2k

(A/N:) Had this idea and it was just too yummy to pass up! So the Dante brainrot continues! Stay tuned for more as I continue to obsess! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Dante squirmed in his chair, his blue eyes staring straight into yours. He wasn't expecting to be placed in such a situation, not that he was complaining but you needed him to sit still. And you were the reason that was being a difficult task for him to accomplish.

"Dante stop moving," you grumbled keeping a sturdy grip on his scruffy chin.

"It's difficult for me with you sitting on me like that," Dante groaned, placing his hands on your hips. He just wiggled more causing the razor to lift from his cheek.

"Dante!"

"I don't want scalped babe," he whined.

"Then stop moving," you replied taking another strip of hair with the razor.

With you sitting on his lap, your legs straddling him it was enough to fluster the man. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with the seating arrangement and your body being placed upon his so inviting. Nope not uncomfortable at all, but you said not to touch you anywhere but your hips so he wouldn't distract you from your task. That was what he was struggling with, with your gorgeous face so close to his you were temptation wrapped in a perfect package.

"I can see that brain of your working behind those eyes," you teased him while wiping the razor clean.

"So you admit I actually have a brain," he purred moving his hands back some to cup your rear.

You slapped his hands and he immediately obeyed placing them back to where he was allowed. He pouted but didn't say a word.

"When it benefits you, now behave so I can finish this up."

"Do I get a treat when you're finished with me?"

"I'll think about it," you grinned before placing a kiss on his brow.

So in light of his possible reward after his shave, Dante remained quiet and kept his hands in place. Though he couldn't stop his thumbs from rubbing circles into your shirt. His gaze watched your every move and he couldn't help but grin whenever you would tilt his face. It was only when you would grow uncomfortable that you would abandon your task to flick his nose or give him a glare. It would only make Dante chuckle and sneak a quick kiss before retreating. But you could only shake your head and let him do what he wanted.

When Dante had said something about how scruffy he was looking, you volunteered to shave him pretty quickly. Dante didn't let people do much for him, as he was just used to taking care of everything himself. That's why this moment felt important to you, Dante letting his guard down for just a second. You could see the man underneath that he kept hidden. Jokes and his devil may care attitude hid a brokenness he didn't want others to see. As you worked the razor carefully across his face, you took in his features. Eyes that would make the clearest bluest day jealous, a jaw that could cleave a demon in two, and hair that could rival the freshest snow. He was handsome and strong and kind. Your heart beat harder as the razor stilled in your hand causing Dante to look up. He could see your chest rising and falling more rapidly and he knew he was to blame. So he took that as a pass to break the rules.

He took the razor from your hands, setting it on his desk with a gentle thud against the wood. He looked comical with shaving cream still staining his cheeks but at the moment all you could notice was the look he had. He looked at you like a water starved man looked at an oasis a beast that hadn't fed in weeks. He cupped your cheeks, yours so much softer and the feminine fullness of your lips calling to him. His thumbs lazily stroked across your cheeks, Dante reveled at the soft skin under his callouses. Seconds passed and he was kissing you, his mouth on yours firmly taking what he wanted. You kissed him back, tongues clashing as you held onto his shirt, wadding it in your fist like you could pull him closer. The cotton fabric beneath your fingers a contrast to the hard muscles underneath Dante's skin. He was darkness and light, soft and hard. He was everything you could dream of as his humanity always stayed close to the surface, overpowering the devil inside. He held you tightly not wanting to release you as he tasted and took and craved. One hand moving to cup the back of your neck and the other moving to bury into your hair. His chair creaked as you shifted on top of Dante's lap and he groaned. Your scent mingling with the scent of shaving cream and the leather chair he sat on. You reached up, fingers tangling in the gray strands on his head before pulling away as your lungs screamed for air. You both sit there panting for much needed air before you smooth your hair and clear your throat.

"I think you got your reward early," you rasped.

Dante with kiss swollen lips started to laugh at the image before him. Cheeks flushed red, lips plumped by his frenzied caresses, and smears of shaving cream on your chin, nose, and cheeks.

"Am I shaving you next," Dante asked picking up a clean towel that you hadn't used yet. He wiped the cream away revealing your blushing cheeks.

"You would probably try to use Rebellion to shave me if I let you," you snorted.

"Cleanest shave you'll ever have," he licked his lips still tasting you.

"I'm not letting you shave me with Rebellion sweetheart," you got back to your task.

Dante sighed, "You never let me do anything fun."

"Oh I know I'm just terrible," you made the last swipe with the razor.

"Kiss me again and I'll forgive you," he grabbed you bringing you closer until you scooted further across his lap and your knees hit the back of the chair. Your breasts pressed against his warm chest. You refused to let him distract you again before you finished wiping the remaining shaving cream from him. He grabbed the towel tossing it away for it to land in the floor somewhere to be picked up later. Leaning in for more kisses, you stopped him with your hands on his cheeks. Dante yelped at the burn as you started patting aftershave against his freshly shaved skin.

"Much better," you laughed before twirling a strand of hair between your fingers. "Now you just need a haircut."

"Maybe later I'm craving something sweeter than strawberry sundaes," Dante purred. Embracing you again as he held onto you tighter. He pulled away his lips barely parted from yours. "I think I'll have you help me shave more often."

"I think I can handle that," you whispered.

Life could never be perfect but when you had Dante and he had you, life was as close to perfect as could be. His shop a little slice of heaven when you were around.

Marks

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: yes I’m back again… anyways this is about Dante being mad about how his healing ability prevents him from being marked by you. I also put my hc of him wearing you scrunchie in this. No actual smut but it’s implied, aftercare, jealous Dante, also wholesome Dante <333

You let out a “umph” once you feel a heavy weight fall on top of you. You look down to see your white haired boyfriend breathing relatively normally especially after just pounding into you for most of the night.

Leave it to Dante to be all over you the second he’s back from a mission. Not that you mind it at all, you actually love it. But you don’t have the endurance he does because you’re not half demon.

You’re trying to catch your breath after the many highs he just gave you but it’s quite hard with him lying on top of you.

You try to push him off of you, “Danteee.”

Dante grunts, “What, want another round?”

You roll your eyes at his response. “I think you will break me if we go for another round. I need you to get off of me, you’re really heavy.”

“Oh shit my bad.” Dante pushes himself off of you and hovers over you then looks you up and down, “Hey beautiful.”

You giggle at his antics and reach your hands up to run them through his hair, “Hi handsome.”

“Wanna wash up or cuddle for a bit longer?”

“Wash up, I feel gross. But, you’re going to have to carry me. I can’t feel my legs…again.”

“I love it when you say that,” he smirks while going to stand up. You roll your eyes again and he lets out a deep laugh.

Dante leans down and whispers, “Wrap your arms around my neck.” You do as he says and he goes to grab the back of your thighs. He hoists you up and wraps your legs around his waist.

While he carries you to the bathroom you lean your head on his firm chest. You love being close to Dante no matter the context. His warmth is something you’ll never get over.

Once you’re in the bathroom he sets you down on the sink and goes to start the shower. He sets everything out so each task will have a smooth transition.

It warms your heart to see because he puts so much effort into this. Before you started dating him, he just went through the days not really caring. But now he seems to enjoy every day.

Dante catches you staring and asks, “Whatcha thinking about?”

“You,” you say firmly but giving him a light smile.

Dante freezes for a second then walks over to you and cages you between his arms, “Oh? I like the sound of that.”

You lean your forehead on his shoulder, “I bet you do. Is the shower ready? I’m getting sleepy.”

“Yeah it is. Up again you go princess.”

He carries you to the shower and gets in. He slowly sets you down being extra careful. Once you’re on your feet your legs feel like jelly. He really did good work tonight.

But that doesn’t help you from almost slipping. You hold tightly onto Dante trying to stay upright. He is quick to wrap his arm around your waist and hold you against him.

He leans down and whispers deeply in your ear, “I got you.”

Your heart races and stomach fills with butterflies after the comment. He can really just make your legs weak with a comment too.

You two stand like that for a minute until you feel confident enough to stand on your own. Once you do you push yourself away from Dante and grab his shampoo.

You put some on your hand then go to wash his hair. As you scrub his shampoo into his hair he lets out a deep groan. You smile to yourself happy he feels relaxes and calm.

You tell him to wash it out while you grab a wash cloth and put his body wash on it. Once he’s done rinsing his hair you scrub down his body. You do this multiple times. Not just to get off the remanence from your night together but to get off all the stuff that came back with him from his mission.

Once you’re finished washing him it’s your turn. He starts with your hair doing your shampoo and conditioner. Then moves on to washing your body.

This takes longer because he loves touching every inch of you. He starts by your collarbone and you wince a little. He didn’t react so he must haven’t heard it.

He moves down to your hips where he brushes over your right side and you wince louder and bend over a little bit.

Dante panics, “Shit! Are you okay!?”

“Yeah, that just hurt a bit. It did too when you were by my collarbones too.”

Dante steps back and looks at your collarbones and hips. He seems hickeys all over your neck and collarbones then bruises on your hips.

He laughs sheepishly. “I think I might have went a little overboard with the marking tonight…” he runs a hand through his wet hair.

“It’s fine, I like it when you leave marks. Just be gentle when you wash those areas.”

Dante nods the tenderly washes your body. He’s super focused to make sure he doesn’t hurt you again. He even has his tongue sticking out, cute.

Once he’s done you rinse off and get out of the shower. You two dry off but Dante finishes super quick. He walks over to the mirror and looks at himself. He looks at his back and neck.

You chalk it up to him just wanting to look at his muscles. You walk out of the bathroom and go to your closet to grab your pajamas. You end up just grabbing one of Dante’s shirts.

Once you’re done putting it on you look at the mirror in your closet and see your neck and collarbones. They are littered with hickeys from Dante. It makes a warmth go to your core thinking about how he marks you.

Through the mirror you see Dante walk into the closet. He gives you a kiss on the top of your head then goes to grab a pair of boxers to sleep in.

You walk out of the closet and go lay on your shared bed. You wait for Dante for a couple of minutes but he hasn’t come to bed yet. What could be doing?

You throw off the covers and walk back into the closet where you see Dante looking at his back again. You walk up behind him and place a hand on his arm.

“Dante does your back hurt? Did you get hurt on your mission?” You question.

Dante spins around and sees you looking concerned. “Oh no I’m fine.”

You stare at him confused, “Then why do you keep looking at your back?”

He mumbles something you can’t make out. You ask him to repeat himself because you couldn’t hear him.

“I hate my healing abilities.” He says without missing a beat. Dante looks you dead in the eye, “Your marks just heal. So I can’t walk around with them.”

You stand in silence for a second then reach for his hand. You drag him out of your shared closet and lead him to your shared bed.

You push him to sit on the end of the bed. He plops down following whatever you want him to do. You raise his chin exposing his neck to you.

You go right for his pulse point and pull his skin between your teeth. You lightly bite his skin then suck. Dante’s hands dart for your waist and holds them tight.

He groans once he feels you starting to suck even harder, “Sweetheart, I thought you said you couldn’t go for another round.” You ignore his comment focusing on what you’re doing.

You stop sucking his skin and run your tongue over the area. You lean back and look at what you just did. You see the hickey on his pulse point but after about 10 seconds it goes away.

You frown realizing that what Dante said is true. You can’t mark him like he can mark you. It makes you a bit sad but you could never hate his healing ability.

You run your thumb over his pulse point then grab his chin again. You make him face you so he can hear what you have to say.

“You were right. You just heal right away. I do feel bad that I can’t mark you like you can mark me. I like the feeling of being marked by you and walking around for people to see. I never knew it bothered you that you couldn’t so I’m sorry for not noticing.”

You see Dante open his mouth to refute but you place a finger on lips to tell him to keep listening.

“But I could never hate your healing ability because it was keeps you coming home. You fight powerful and scary demons that hurt you. If you didn’t have that ability you would have had so many broken bones and have bled out many times. Which means we wouldn’t have been able to get together.”

You run your hands through his hair again to ground yourself, “My biggest fear is you not coming home. That you died on a mission and I’ll never get to see you again. That I’ll never get to hear your laugh, see your smile, eat pizza and ice cream with you, have you make love to me, or even just have you in my arms. I am so happy you have your healing ability because it keeps you here with me. I love you Dante and I don’t want this to upset you anymore.”

You let out a little sigh after you finish and Dante just stares at you. His grip tightens on your waist and before you know it you’re falling. Your forehead then collides with his hard chest.

Dante lays a hand on the back of your head and just holds you close. You don’t dare to say anything because you don’t want to push him to say something. You’ll let him go at his own pace.

Dante calls your name lightly, “You know I’ll always come home to you right. No matter how strong and dangerous a fight may get, I’ll always fight my hardest so I can come back to you. I need to come back to you. I can’t give this up. Now that you put that perspective of my healing ability in my mind, I won’t ever complain about it again.”

He lets out a deep sigh, “It’s just I got a little jealous I can’t walk around with the marks you make. I know I would make it everyone business but I’m content with everything. The most important thing is that I have you at the end of the day. So I’m happy. I love you so much.”

You snuggle into Dante and hold him tightly, “I’m happy too. But how about we find a way to have me always with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“We find something that ‘marks’ you. So it reminds you of me and other people can tell it’s from me.”

Dante spins you around and hovers over you again. He looks like an excited puppy looking down at you. His eyes are shining with excitement, “Really!? Do you mean it!?”

“Yes handsome I mean it.”

“Okay so what will it be??”

You think for a second about what you can do to “mark” him. You look around the room and see something on your night stand. You shift under him and grab it.

You smile back up at him, “You wrist please.”

Dante balances himself on his left wrist and hold his right one out. You slide on your scrunchie onto his wrist. After you put it on Dante stares at it in amazement.

You speak up, “It’s the best idea I could come up with at the moment. We can always think of something bigger later.”

“No.”

You’re puzzled by his reaction not knowing what to say back.

“I like this. I don’t want something else.”

“Dante are you sure? If you give me some time I bet I could find something better.”

“Nothing will be better than this.” He thinks for a second, “Unless it’s naked photo of you.” He states.

You smack his shoulder and his lets out another deep laugh. “But seriously I’m happy with this. It reminds me of when my mom gave me my necklace. Now I have something I can wear from the two most important women in my life.”

You grab his face with both of your hands and drag him down to connect your lips with his. The kiss is passionate and slow. Your noses brush against each other and you two follow the flow of the kiss.

Needing air you break the kiss and look at him and state with such love and care, “I love you Dante.”

He quickly responds with, “I love you more.”

"AND YOU LOVE THAT, RIGHT?"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH DANTE

Pov: He feels different after his demonic awakening and you confort him ❤

I hope you like it! 💛😌☝

It had been a week since Dante had his demonic awakening.

During that time, he'd been quite distant from you, as if he didn't consider you worthy of your attention.

You decided to talk to him.

You walked over to where he was staring out the window of his shabby apartment and wrapped your arms around his waist, making him smile.

"Hey, baby," he whispered, his husky voice making you shiver, as it always did when he spoke to you with that tone so gentle yet firm.

"Hey," you murmured, placing a kiss on the back of his neck. "Hey, we need to talk."

He turned quickly, thinking he'd done something wrong that had caused you to get angry with him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking at you intensely. "Is this about the hunt the other day?" Next time I promise not to kill those demons so quickly and leave a couple for yourself.

"It's nothing like that," you murmured. "It's just that since you had your awakening, I've noticed you've been distant with me, different," you explained. He tilted his head to the outside before looking at you again. "You know you're still the same, right?" He nodded silently. "And you know that I still love you, right?"

"Even though I occasionally transform into a demon with huge red wings?"

"Even so," you smiled. "Besides, I…" You stopped due to the embarrassment you suddenly felt. He smiled crookedly.

"What were you going to say, precious?" He whispered, placing his hands on your hips to pull you closer to him.

"I…" You swallowed hard. "I was going to say that I like your wings." He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

"Oh yeah?" "He asked. You nodded. "Why?"

"I don't know… maybe it's because… they make you look bigger than you already are."

"And you love that, right?" He murmured, turning you so that you were now leaning against the wall. "Do you like feeling small compared to me?" He whispered, smiling crookedly. "Next time I transform, I'll wrap my wings around you," he promised. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes," you almost gasped. "But now I want you to kiss me."

"Not so fast, darling," he smiled, tracing your lower lip with his thumb. "I'll have a little fun with you first."

Pain and Warmth pt.1

🎶 The Midnight- Vampires

🎶 Deftones- Beauty School (slowed + reverb)

Dante Sparda x F reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, details of menstrual cycle, medication usage, L-word

Link to Dante x F reader Headcannons

16+

18+ if you squint

I finished the entire first season in 2 days, yall! I also get that it's not lore accurate in some aspects, but it's not really supposed to be. It's the director and wrighters interpretation. While I personally have never played the games, I did watch someone play a few years ago, along with watching the other anime adaptation (which I love dearly). Hopefully, I did this adaptation justice in this fic.

----------

As you walked to Dantes, place your cramps were getting serious. You'd have to take some ibuprofen when you got there. You huffed and puffed, trying to breathe through the pain as you finally made it to his doorstep.

You knock without much effort before just opening the door to let yourself in. You force out his name and hear his snoring stop with a snort.

As you pass the threshold into the room, he greets you. "Hey y/n! How's it going..." He trails off when he sees you. You're a bit unsteady on your feet, still panting with droopy eyes and your glasses slipping down your nose.

You cross the room to his side before he gets up, and you set your bag on the desk, pulling out your medicine bag. Taking an ibuprofen from the bottle, you pop it in your mouth and steal his soda from the desk to swallow it down. "Hey, that's my soda!"

"You give him a glare he's never seen on you before that shuts him up." He puts his hands up as he props his feet on the desk behind you again. You look at him analyzing something which he tilts his head at. "What is it?"

Suddenly, you're sitting in his lap, and he freezes as you lay against his chest. "What the hell are you doing!?"

"Ibuprofen won't work right away. Need warmth to stem the pain." Your shortened phrasing gives tell of the level of pain you're in. Suddenly, you grab his hand and slip it into the top of your pants, laying it over your abdomen. You sigh when the heat soakes into your skin.

He blushes, looking anywhere but at you. This is all so sudden! Are you in so much pain that you don't even care that it's HIM you're sitting on with HIS hand pressed against your bare skin!? He's freaking out internally. But suddenly, there's a scent in his nose. It's unmistakable yet tinged with something unfamiliar.

"You're bleeding... why are you bleeding!?"

You hiss and growl at him when he jostles you. Giving him an even more intense glare. "Stay still, Dante... or I swear I'll tear you to shreds."

"But why are you bleeding!?"

You sigh, not wanting to keep wasting energy on speaking. "I'm on my menstrual cycle."

"Ok, yeah, I forgot about that. But why do I smell so much?"

"I'm a heavy bleeder. It's normal for me."

"Shouldn't you get checked out for that, though? That doesn't seem normal to me."

"I'll schedule an appointment soon. Quit talking, I need sleep."

-------

By the time you've fallen asleep, Dante is bored out of his mind. He's already counted the cracks in the walls when there's a nock on the door. Enzo comes waltzing in.

"Hey Dante, I've got a..." Dante puts his finger to his lips with wide eyes frantically shushing him. Enzo spots you in his lap and gives Dante a knowing grin.

Dante mouths to him. "It's not like that, dude! She just jumped me!" He tries to free his other hand, but you grab hold of it, keeping it against your skin. A wave of pain hits you and you hiss. Opening your eyes, you look over at Enzo.

"Enzo my bag, please." He rounds the desk, handing you your bag, which you rummage through for another pill. "Soda." He holds it out for you, and you swallow the pill with another sip.

"Thank you, Enzo. Can you do me another favor, please?"

"Oh sure! What do ya need?"

"Call in a Subnautica Subs order for me. Italian bread with lettuce, spinach, provolone, ham, and mayo. You want anything, Dante?"

"Uh yeah, just get me the meat lover's sub."

"Dante can call you later about the job."

"How did you...?"

"Figured that's why you're here. That's usually why."

"Fair enough. See you two lovebirds later!"

You growl, but don't bother wasting your energy in retort. Dante yells after him. "I told you it's not like that!" The door clicks shut behind him.

You let out a groan, bringing his attention back to you. "I need to get up to use the restroom, but I don't wanna." He can hear the pout in your voice, and he lets a chuckle slip.

"You want me to carry you there?

"Please do." The slight bags under your eyes tell him just how drained you are as he frees his hand to scoop you up. You grab your bag on the way by.

He lets you down at the door, and you let out another uncomfortable sound, screwing your face up in a grimace.

"What is it?"

"The floodgates opened, so to speak."

He grimaced, too. "I'll wait out here for you."

"Ok, thanks, Dante."

-------

He pushes off the wall when you finally open the door. "Took a while. You ok?"

"Yeah, I had a lot of blood to clean up." As you walk past, the strong scent hits his nose along with your attempt to cover it with air freshener.

A nock on the door catches your attention. You're about to go answer it when Dante joggs past you. "Go sit down. I'll get it." You huff but a small smile cracks through your pained/irritated expression. The delivery guy hands him a bag from the restaurant. Dante hands him a few dollars and closes the door.

When he walks back into the room, he cracks a grin at you sitting in his chair. "Stealing my spot now, huh?"

"Hey, you just said to sit. You didn't specify where."

"Fair enoug.h. Here's yours." He sits against the desk beside you as he unwraps his sub, taking a bite. "Dat ibuwpofin wokin?"

You snort. "Yeah, I'm feeling a bit better now. And don't take such big bites you'll choke on it."

By the time he's finished with his, you're only halfway through yours. "Ya'know you're a real slow eater."

"Yes, I know. I prefer to savor the flavor than scarf it all down at once." You give him a pointed look. "You made a mess of yourself too." You stand boxing him in between you and the desk. "Hold still." You grip his jaw and, with your other hand, wipe the sauce from his mouth licking your thumb clean, and he glanced away.

Dante watches you put your wrapped up sub in the mini fridge. Totally not eyeing your rear before you turn back to him. He sits back in his chair, watching your fingers work circles into the skin of your lower back as your shirt rides up.

You move back over to him, and he thinks you're gonna sit across his lap like before. Instead, you straddle him. "Woah, woah, woah, what are you doing!?"

"Sittin' in your lap again."

"You-you shouldn't be straddling me!"

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you nuzzle into him. His muscles tense under you as he bites his lip, your body pressing into his. The heat from his lower stomach seeps into your abdomen.

-------

For a while, he just sits there holding his hands up awkwardly, not wanting to touch you without permission. Your voice muffled in his neck, startles him. "You can touch me, ya'know."

"Heh... I didn't want to assume." He gently lays his hands on your back.

As the time ticks by slowly, his hands start to rub circles into your back. When he adds more pressure, you practically melt into him. "A bit lower, please." He does as asked, remembering where you had massaged yourself earlier.

You let out a quiet gasp, gripping the back of his coat collar.

His hands freeze. "You ok?"

"I'm fine, keep going."

Pressing his fingers into your skin again, gently moving in circles. He sets his chin on your shoulder, letting his eyes close as he listens to your breathing.

The little pain left slowly seeps away as his fingers work across your muscles. You hold in any sounds that try to escape as you relax in his embrace.

This is probably the safest place in the world. The halfbreed demon hunter being one of the few things on earth capable of mass destruction should he choose it. And he's got you wrapped up in those demon killing arms with hands that can break bone being used to gently ease the pain in your back.

A wave of arousal washes over you. Those dang hormones surging through your body as you expel your uterine lining. You bite your lip as your mind races. What would it feel like to kiss him? Or have him kiss up your neck, leaving marks in his wake?

What if you kissed his neck right now? Would he be ok with it, or would he hate you for it?

Maybe you could just start slow? Just nuzzle under his chin.

You do just that, taking off your glasses and placing them on the desk behind you. You hook your nose under his jaw, closing your eyes as your breath tickles his neck.

His breath hitches in his throat at the feeling of your breath on his skin. You pull back just enough for him to see your eyes. They're lidded and glazed over with a familiar look. He turns bright red swallowing hard.

You trail your hands down to his chest, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Getting bashful on me darlin'?" He gives you a nervous grin. Leaning back down, you place a gentle kiss on his neck.

You feel his hands slip down to your hips, and his thumbs press into the sides of your abdomen, making you wince. "Easy big boy, I'm still sore." Suddenly, he moves a hand to your face, making you look at him. In a flash, his lips are on yours. You're stunned for a moment before your eyes slip closed, and you grip the hair at the back of his head.

Your heart races in your chest. You can't believe this is actually happening! The seconds go by before he pulls away, both of you panting for breath. He gives you a calculating look before his lips press into your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other pushing beneath your shirt. You feel the fabric of his gloves scratch against you.

A small sound escapes your throat as his mouth moves across your skin. Tilting your head back for him, you pull his white locks. He sucks on your pulse, likely to leave a mark. Your back arching into him as a moan bubbles up from your throat. His hands move to your thighs, and he picks you up, making you yelp.

"Wh-what are you doing, Dante?"

"Taking you to bed so you can rest some more. Don't worry. We can have a bit more fun before we hit the hay."

This time, you blush. "But I'm still bleeding."

"We aren't gonna do that. Not that I wouldn't be down for it either way..."

You blush like a tomato. Normally, guys gag at the thought of messing around when a woman's on her period. Then again, Dante's used to blood so it wouldn't bother him as much.

-------

He closes the door behind you with his boot and lays you down gently on the bed with your head on the pillow. "Just relax and let me do all the work." You give him a nod. "Good girl." He pulls off his gloves with his teeth and slips the grey Henley over his head.

As he settles in, pushing his face into your neck, you run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. A pleasured groan rumbles in his throat. You feel his tongue slide across your throat, making you gasp.

His hand gently caresses over your stomach, leaving a tingling sensation in his wake. You feel his hand slip under your wasteband and around to your lower back. His fingertips press into your muscles, gently moving in circles to ease their tension. You let out a pleasured sigh, arching your back a bit.

He shifts his weight so his other hand can slip behind your upper back beneath your shirt. You feel your bra pop open, releasing tension in your back and shoulders. You let a content purr escape your lips.

"I bet that feels better, doesn't it?" His voice a low rumble in your ear makes a shiver run up your spine. He can feel the muscles twitch under his fingertips. "Good, that's all I want right, now baby." He presses featherlight kisses all across your neck and lips before moving to your stomach.

More light kisses press into your skin as you relax and enjoy his touch. His teal eyes lock with yours as he pulls down your waistband just to the top of your pubic hair. With his thumbs, he gently presses into your abdomen. "Tell me where it's most tender." He moves his thumbs inward towards the center of your abdomen.

When they graze over your ovaries and uterus, you feel a twinge of pain. "Right there, huh? Alright, I'll be gentle. Tell me if it hurts." He presses in and moves in circles only to stop when you tet out a hiss in pain. "Too much?" You mumble to him. "Ok, I won't do that again. You're just way too sore there, baby."

You sit up and move to the side of the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Taking these pants off. The waistband is putting pressure on my abdomen. I also gotta take off this bra."

"Thought you were leaving for a second."

"Not after that massage you gave me."

He pouts with a hand over his heart. "Is that all I am to you!?"

Shucking off your pants, you scoot closer to him. With a hand on his jaw, you place your forehead against his. When you lock eyes with him, you smile. "I love you, Dante." His eyes widen, mouth agape.

"You-you love me?"

"Yes, honey, I love you."

He lets out a breathy chuckle of disbelief as he processes the revelation. His cocky facade cracking as overwhelming emotions burst forth. Tears glint in his eyes as he gives you the happiest smile you've ever seen on him, holding your face in his hands.

"I-I love you too! You're the best thing that's ever happened to me!" Tears of your own drip down your cheeks as you pepper his face with kisses. You lock lips again in a kiss full of emotion and genuine love for each other.

When you pull away to breathe, he hugs you tight, and you slip your arms around him in turn. He lets go sliding one hand down your arm to hold yours while the other wipes away his tears. You both sniffle, and you can't help the yawn that overtakes you.

"Getting sleepy again?" You nod and turn your attention back to the bra you need to remove. Dante watches as you pull it from your shirt like a magic trick. "You gotta show me how you do that trick with your bra sometime."

You roll your eyes. Always so romantic. A chuckle tumbles from your mouth. He grins and lays down on the bed. "Here lay down on me, I'll massage you some more."

"I don't want to leak on you, though. Or the sheets."

"In my line of work, I get blood on stuff all the time. Trust me, it's not that big a deal if it does happen. Im practically an expert at cleaning bloodtains at this point." His reassurance soothes your worries, and you straddle him again, laying against him with your hands on his bare chest and your ear over his heart.

You notice right away that it's beating a bit fast, he's nervous. His hands land on your back, and he pulls up your shirt to reach your skin. The firm circle motion of his fingers, making your muscles relax against him. Sleep begins to weigh your eyelids down as the soothing and strong beating of his heart lulls you to sleep.

Within minutes, your breathing slows, and you're completely relaxed against him. He pulls the blanket over the both of you as he begins to feel sleepy himself. "I'm the luckiest man on Earth to have a woman like you."

With his arms wrapped protectively around you, his eyes slip closed, and for the first time in a while, he has a great night's sleep.

⋆˚࿔ — TIRED ? YOU CAN JUST REST ON ME ; ➢ ; DANTE S .

☁︎ — wrote this for funsiess in a very tired state after work,, anyways need this to happen to me so bad,, 🙂‍↕️🫶 might be ooc dante, dividers by @/cafekitsune .

minor proof-read .

@shomatoriashi 💫

THE MOMENT you arrived at the doorstep of the all-too-familiar place around the late hours of the evening, the unwanted soreness sensation returns from within you, groaning out in a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

Relieved because finally— you could leave your workplace. It's not that all bad, to be fair. It wasn't so complicated, for you at least, but you're just glad to be back home and away from that exact place.

You didn't even bother to find him just yet; landing swiftly onto the quite old couch that's located nearby with a small sigh. God knows how much you wanted to rest up right now so bad, but you know that you needed to, at least, clean yourself up first.

But eh, maybe that could wait.

The bones and muscles within your body is almost seconds away from giving in— wanting to just shut down everything that's possibly existing within your own mind and even whatever's currently happening from the outside world.

Even without telling him directly still, Dante could immediately sense your arrival, despite of your efforts on not making too much noises, which is almost quite odd to him.

Usually, you would've at least greeted him in a cheery manner, even though you're actually tired. But today is a little different, and he took an immediate notice of it and tried to mentally think of ways on what to do and approach. It doesn't take long, however.

Because it is Dante we're talking about. He would know, regardless.

You're not even aware that the male had been standing near one of the room's doorframe, eyes observing over your fatigue form. It doesn't take long for him to actually, and effortlessly setting you down atop of his lap instead. You're too tired to care about your current position anyways.

At certain moments like these, Dante didn't really speak much. He somehow could sense the weariness radiating off from you alone, and so, he simply held you within his arms securely; as if protecting you so closely, and so dearly.

A soft sigh would escape from your lips, resting your head comfortably even more against his own; focusing on the way his heart beats right at this moment, the way one of his hands would hold you against him— the other would tenderly stroke your hair as a way to lull you even further into a state of slumber.

"I know you're exhausted.. Just rest up, okay? I'm here."

He would mumble several comforting words next to your ear, kissing the side of your head after while rocking you gently in that position, still. It didn't take long before you actually fall asleep on him, snoozing off with your mind elsewhere— feeling safe with him.

And even when you're asleep, he wouldn't stop holding you until you're properly awake later on.

— written by @luneariaa . reblogs are appreciated. do not repost; all rights reserved . 💫

I really, really like the Devil May Cry stuff you're writing ^-^

And I was curious- if you're okay with it of course.

Romantic headcanons for Dante x fem!Reader where she spends the night for the first time at his place? Like they're already in a relationship, but his girl isn't ready for s*x

you had been in the best relationship of your life with Dante, it was goofy, silly, stupid but deep at the same time where you could comfortably admit to anything with Dante and he would respond in kind with comfort and reassurance.

so when he invited you over for the night, your mind went elswhere and had stayed there even as you stepped through the door, stiff and worried when night quickly approached faster then you liked.

was he going to expect sex in your first time staying over?

was it the priamary reason you were invited over? for sexy times?

if so would he be dissapointed if you were to admit that you weren't ready, if you were ever going to be ready for it, would he be ashamed? after all it seemed as though society deemed sex a pivitol part in keeping a relationship happy, demanding of it even if one was nowhere near ready for that vital step.

even if you may disagree with that mindset.

no this was your Dante you were talking about, the man who alsot tripped over his own two feet when asking you out, the very man who insits on sharing his sundaes with you whenever you were sad, cuddled up on his lap, embraced in his warmth.

the very same man who wore the silliest pyjama pants to bed all the time, ones covered in pizza slices, or ones covered in little cartoon strawberry icecreams with cute little faces that displayed a variety of emotions.

the very man who kisses your forhead whenever your worries got the best of you, claiming that his kisses could wash them away, and they did as did everything often did with Dante to be your comfort, your safe haven and friend as well as your handsome partner.

however the fear still remained, making you unable to relax at all, muscles tense asn your sense on high alert from any indication from Dante.

only to sense nothing as he smiles at you that sweet smile that shows off his sharp looking canines. Nothing out of the ordinary, not yet at least as you felt your tongue loosen the moment you step into his bedroom.

‘We’re not having sex are we?’

Dante’s brows are raised as a frown replaces his smile from moments prior and your mind became worse then it was before, filling your head with poison and venom that you almost didn’t hear him or feel him in your state of numbness.

Not until you felt his warm hands grace your shoulders, grounding you as you managed to urge your eyes to look into his own, seeing the concern within them as his calloused thumbs caressed. ‘What ever gave you that impression sweetheart?’ He asks softly as he guides you to sit at the edge of his bed as he knelt in front of you.

‘Isn’t that how it always leads to? Sex.’ You replied as you toyed with your hands, eyes once again averting his gaze as you found interest in picking at your fingers almost in a violent manner. ‘Something I am in no way ready for and am scared that will run you away because of it.’ You added.

Dante was quick to put a stop to your violent finger picking/scratching by intertwining his fingers with yours, kissing them as he tucks your hands close to his chest. ‘Not always, and that’s not why I brought you here because I realise that I can’t sleep at all without you,’ he laughs to himself, ‘kinda like how a kid can’t sleep without a stuffed toy for comfort, you are that comfort to me and I want you nowhere else but by my side.’ He continues as he reads the emotions upon your face, seeing that you were starting to relax and let your guard down to rest.

‘Really? Nothing else.’ You said barely above a whisper.

‘It’s the furthest thing from my mind sweetheart.’ Dante reassures. ‘We won’t do anything like that unless you’re ready and willing, to do so without taking in your own feelings is just a dick move. A relationship is between two people who love each other, some have a sex while others might not, it’s still a relationship regardless sweetness.’ He kisses your finger interlocked with his, smiling.

‘So if we never have sex, that’s fine by me becuase I’m not going anywhere without you, you’re my person and I’d rather keep what we have then ever throw it away over something stupid as sex.’ He then moves from kneeling to sit next to you, letting go of your hands for a moment before reconnecting them, and letting you rest your head upon his shoulder as he gingerly placed his atop of yours, though not before kissing it.

‘We’re just going to share a bed and cuddle and fall asleep together and wake up together too just to be lazy about wanting to leave bed.’ He whispers and you couldn’t help but laugh at how true that might be, before feeling a little silly in being overly cautious about the reasoning for Dante wanting you here

yet you were also glad that he had cleared any and all misconceptions within you as now all you wanted to do was cuddle up to him, sleep and be very begrudging in getting up the next day, just like he promised.

May I have... Dante being a affectionate..towards reader.. 🥺

Most of the demon shit mentioned in here is made up by me because why not.

It doesn't take alot for Dante to be affectionate, he's so full of it that the slip of his arm over your shoulder was just as common as his lips pepper kisses across your cheek, jaw and neck; all the while he easily bats off your feeble attempts to put ditance between the two of you, laughing as he kept you within his strong embrace.

You could simply be exisiting and Dante would find the need to smother you in an abundance of affection, some even resulted in him leaving bite marks upon your skin, some even bleeding a little from his sharp canines digging in a little too deeply to be comfortable nor pleasant for the recipient; ie you as you scold him about it while he smiled deviously, proud of his handiwork.

'i don't see the problem with the biting.' Dante said defensively as you look at the bitemarks within the bathroom mirrior, glaring at him through it.

'sure you don't becuase you don't have to explain to Vergil about how much of a fucking menace his twin is when it comes to my neck.' You winced as you touched one of the bitemarks, mentally making preperations on how you could cleverly cover them up from prying eyes of friends and strangers alike, not that you mind him escenically marking you but certainly not when Vergil was walking the hallways with a knowing look in his icy eyes.

'Hes a smart cookie Vergil,' Dante replies carelessly as he crosses the room to hold you from behind, 'He's aware of the demonic nature that resides within us as well as human, so it's not hard dor him to put two and two together before walking the other way with a face of disgust.' He adds as he resting his head on your shoulder as his smile seems to widen upon seeing your unamused stare.

'How insightful of you, had i not know your brother personally i would've thanked you for that vital bit of infomation, but i do so i don't.' You said sarcastically, trying to show no reaction when Dante buries his head into your neck as he laughs, nosing the bite marks there as though maping them out, before soflty kissing them as if that would heal them.

You found that whenever Dante got affectionate like this you melted like butter within his arms, getting weak in the knees whenever his lips pressed to any part of you, his strong hands holding up on their own as you try to reciprocate his kisses with your own. only for Dante to pull away with a pout that you were certain matched yours, as he says; 'Let me love you sweetheart.'

'isn't it selfish of me to just let you love on me without loving on you aswell?' you asked, not liking leaving Dante out of the wamrth of a kiss, the tender but protectiveness of a hug, or even the serene feeling of having your hand atop of his chest as you felt his heart beneath your palm as though it too was trying to kiss you in some way.

To you Dante was the epiphony of warmth, of strength and protection with every touch he's had seered into your skin and your memories. Yet he was also soft, sweet as the strawberries you could taste upon his tongue from all the sunadaes hes eaten before, it was an addictive taste that you could never get enough of even if you tried, for he would always pull you back in with that stupid smile of his and silly quips that he would make that never failed to have a guilty smile creep upon your lips.

Dante smiles as he kisses your forhead. 'it's not selfish at all when i want to smother you in affection for being too goddamn perfect everyday for the rest of my life.' He admits to you softly, thumbs caressing your wasit. 'since you don't want to be selfish, i'll be selfish for the both of us.' was the last thing he said as his lips descended on yours and you complied to his wishes with no hesitation to speak of. He was your weakness and no one knew this better then the man who was still fruitless in his attempt to kiss away his sore bitemarks.

'im trying to help you here but it seems as though you don't want it at all.' He pouts against your shoulder- his grip on your waist tightning a little- as you wordlessly raised a haid to run through his messy strands of white hair upon his head on instict, making him let out a deep purr like sound that indicated his inner demon's fondness of you coming through however it could.

Speaking of his demoic side, his demon form was only best described as Dante on steroids in terms of affection, something you would've enjoyed had he not run hotter then a thousand furances, neverless towering overyou with it's great height, something that made you feel a multitude of ways as your face was smushed into his hard armoured chest of rough skin. This was not to mention how the ruby red demon was somehow three times more protective over you then Dante was, something Vergil has said in passing was that whatever he or his twin felt in human form, it was twice or sometimes three times more potent in their demon form.

'you often hinder then help.' you say but lift one of his hands to kiss the back of it before resting it back onto your waist. 'Yet each time i try to be annoyed with you and your bites, you come up to me with that puppy dog look, smother me in affection and suddently the words i forgive you leave my lips.' you finished as you looked at the mirror, seeing the fondess and love within your reflections eyes, forever fascinated of how effortless you fit with one another; as though you were two piece mades for each other by the gods above, just as you should be.

Dante moved his head from your neck, smirking to himself when he felt your hand attmept to guide his head back to your neck, not liking the sudden dissapearence of his warmth and wanting to be selfish in keeping him as close as you did now. 'so do you?' he asks.

you furrow your brows. 'do i what?'

'forgive me..and my bitemarks.' Dante says as he presses a kiss to the side of your head, his eyes never once leaving yours through the mirror, shinning like two diamonds or better yet sapphires in the artificial light.

You shrug. 'i don't know, do i?'

Dante groans as he kisses both your cheeks, your jaw and neck much like he always did whenever he knew he was in trouble and wanted to get out of i quckly as possibly. 'Come on! forgive me! pretty please sweetheart,' he kisses the corner of your lip once, twice, three times, 'pretty please with a strawberry sundae ontop.'

You couldn't help but smile at the mention of the sweet treat that you often joked had stole his heart long before you did, something that Dante would take seriously as he often told you that while he loves the sweet treat, you were the truest love in his life and every other life he lives afterwards. 'yes i forgive you, my silly half demon man.' You muttered just loudly enough for the both of you to hear as you then pressed a kiss to his cheek. 'I'll always forgive you.' you add while placing a kiss to his lips, solidifying your words as truth as you felt Dante smile against your lips, huming in content as he holds you tighter within your small but quaint bathroom.