#dante x fem reader

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sooo what if Dante falls in love with Enzo’s pretty little niece who’s in town for a visit or for work? Like they have a little meet-cute when Enzo asks her to run an errand for him and instead runs into Dante? (Love your stuff!!🩵)

How to pick up a package, almost die and accidentally get a hot boyfriend: A beginner’s guide

Pairing: Dante x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: All you had to do was pick up a package. Simple, right? Instead, you faceplant into a silver-haired menace, survive a monster attack and somehow leave with a date. Family errands have never been this dangerous - or this attractive.

Warnings: Dante isn't as flirty in this one (but still hilarious no worries), reader is a normal chick in this fic for once, apart from the usual, nothing to fear lol

My Dante request are still open so HIT ME UP

Enzo doesn’t give you much to go on.

"Pick up a package from Vito’s," he practically orders, short and impatient.

"Tell him it’s for me. In and out. No big deal. And don’t talk to anyone except Vito, got it?"

You don't even hesitate. You’re just visiting for a few weeks before returning back home - a favour for family sounds easy enough and never hurt nobody. After all, Enzo is your favourite uncle. Well, to be specific, he’s your only uncle. But still your favourite.

You dart around the area he described to you with no real aim. What are you even looking for? A supermarket, a gun shop? Given Enzo’s shady business, nothing is impossible.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally spot it. The shop's tucked between two boarded-up buildings, the neon sign crackling like it’s one cough away from dying. You hesitate only a second before pushing inside. Oh, hopefully this doesn’t mean trouble. Your uncle wouldn’t send you straight into danger after all…

Right?

The bell overhead gives a tired rattle.

And before you’re really able to focus on anything inside, you slam into him.

Tall, solid, wild white hair falling into light, piercing eyes. Blue? Silver? You can’t tell, and honestly, you’re too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

"Easy, princess," he drawls, a rough little laugh curling out of him as he catches your elbow before you hit the ground.

You flush, muttering something like an apology. No, no, no. As if running someone over isn’t worse enough, why does he have to be this handsome?

He doesn’t let go right away, his touch lingering around your arm just a few seconds to long.

His gaze slides down you. Not rude, not predatory, just… curious. Focused. Like he’s cataloging you, every detail.

You pull yourself together enough to finally speak up, force your body to finally cooperate again.

"I’m just picking something up. For my uncle. Enzo. Are you Vito, by any chance?"

You idiot. As if some random guy in a shop named Vito’s would know your uncle. As if this man looks like someone named Vito.

And yet, his expression shifts the second you say the name. Subtle. You wouldn’t catch it if you weren’t still embarrassingly focused on him.

"Enzo, huh," he comments, voice dipping a little lower.

"Didn’t know he had family. Why did he send someone like you here?"

You shrug awkward, caught completely off-guard again. Why on earth does your uncle know men like him? And why are you still single if he does?

"Just visiting. I’m not, uh… part of anything."

You mean business. You mean the shady stuff you know Enzo keeps quiet about. Not that you know what it is, exactly. To be honest, you really don’t want to. But

He smiles at your clumsy words - slow, almost dangerous. Like he knows exactly how little you actually know, like he knows all too well what “anything” means.

What a cute little thing you are.

"Yeah," he murmurs, his thumb brushing absently against the crook of your elbow before he finally lets go.

"You don't look like you are."

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine. You can’t tell if it’s a warning or a compliment. Maybe both. Or maybe nothing at all.

You clear your throat, trying to shake it off. Focus. You aren’t 12 anymore, that guy isn’t Gojo Satoru. Talking to handsome guys might not be your daily business, but to get this flustered by it is still embarrassing.

"So, uh… you work here?"

The laugh that bursts out of him is genuine, rough and amused.

"Hell no," he replies casually.

"Just passing through. Like you. What’s your name, by the way?"

“(y/n). And…yours?”

“Huh, nice to meet ya. It’s Dante for you.”

You nod, fiddling nervously with the strap of your bag. Dante…not a name you’ve heard that often until now. Does it suit him? You eye him up and down as subtle as possible, catch a glimpse of his tones upper body and wild eyes. Oh, it definitely does.

 "Right. Cool. Well. I’ll just-"

Before you can finish, a low, almost vibrating sound rumbles through the shop.

Your heart drops to the floor.

Not a machine.

Something alive.

The easy-going tilt of Dante's body sharpens instantly. His hand is already moving toward the weapon slung across his back you haven’t even noticed before you have the chance to realize something's wrong.

"Get behind me," he mutters, stepping between you and the shadows gathering near the back wall.

"Wait, what-?"

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck. That sounds exactly like the shady business, like you should have never been here in the first place. What are you supposed to do? Run? Hide? Stay behind Dante? Get away from him as far as possible? Your mind races back and forth, stiff body not able to move a single inch.

And then they lurch into the light, creatures that should not exist, and the room explodes into chaos.

You barely manage to scramble behind a rack of rusted car parts as Dante moves.

He fights like a storm. Fast, wild, beautiful in a way that’s terrifying. His sword sings through the air, cutting down the creatures one by one.

You can't look away. Not from the monsters. Not from him.

When the last body hits the floor within what feels like the blink of an eye, smoking and twitching, he straightens, breathing steady like he just finished a jog, not a slaughter.

What.

The.

Hell.

He turns, catching you staring.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he questions, and this time the nickname lands softer, even gentle, as if he didn’t go berserk a few seconds ago.

You nod, because your voice is lost somewhere back by the register, back where you came from.

Dante crosses the ruined shop in a few strides, reaching out his hand again. This time, when you take it, your fingers curl instinctively into his, shaking by the aftermath of what just happened.

You didn’t even register what was going on. That creatures just destroyed the shop and that stranger, that handsome stranger named Dante, slaughtered them like a turkey at Thanksgiving. What on earth was that?

"C'mon," he urges, voice low and rough with something you can't name while softly pushing you back onto your wobbly feet.

"Let's get you outta here."

The walk back is quieter, but not awkward. Well, at least not as awkward as it should be, given the scene from earlier. Every few steps, Dante’s hand brushes against yours like he’s checking you’re still there.

You sneak glances at him, trying to fit the man you just met with the man who just tore monsters apart like it was nothing.

"You’re... not exactly normal, are you?" you ask finally.

He huffs a laugh.

"Depends who you ask."

"And those things-?"

"Pests," he explains briefly, smirking sideways at you.

"Wrong place, wrong time."

You squint your eyes while tilting your head. Pests, seriously?

"Pests don’t usually have that many teeth."

He chuckles again, slow and warm, and without thinking about it, he slings his arm around your shoulders.

You freeze for half a second. This came so sudden, so out of the blue that you can’t help but shamelessly stare at him with big eyes. After all the things you just saw, after it is more than clear that this man isn’t just a friendly neighbour from next door while you’re nothing but an ordinary woman, he still cares about you?' At the moment, none of this matters. Before you can convince yourself otherwise, you lean into him, because it feels weirdly natural. Like you fit there. Like this is somehow where you belong. Like this is where you should be.

It has to be the white hair. It’s always the white hair.

By the time you reach Enzo’s assaulted front step, you're tucked snug against Dante’s side, his hand draped lazily along your jacket as you still hold onto him for what feels like dear life. Getting comforted by a handsome stranger after almost dying definitely wasn’t on your bingo card for today. That doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy it, though.

He rings the bell with a cocky little smile.

“That’s gonna be fun.”

When Enzo opens the door, he stops cold, taking in the two of you - your bright, nervous smile, Dante’s possessive arm, the wrecked look in your eyes that says you’ve seen way more than you were supposed to.

Dante grins lazily. "Special delivery," he announces proudly.

Enzo’s eyes narrow like a threat he’s definitely going to make, taking a step back before inspecting your body carefully.

“Did you get hurt?”

“No, but if it wasn’t for Dante, I might be death by now. I owe him my life.”

“The only thing you owe me is a date, sweetheart. Can you believe I met your niece? You never told me you have one!”

Uncle Enzo doesn’t answer. The second you disappear inside - still shaken, still clueless - Enzo grabs Dante by the arm and drags him onto the porch.

"You’re outta your damn mind," Enzo hisses, voice low but furious.

"She’s not part of this world."

Dante smirks, unbothered, dragging a toothpick from his pocket and slipping it between his teeth.

"Yeah?" he says lazily.

"Seems like the world found her anyway. And by world, I include myself too. What a cute little thing she is. Never thought your relatives could look like…this."

Enzo steps closer, jabbing a finger into Dante’s chest.

"Stay away from her. She's not built for this. She’s not-"

He cuts off, running a hand through his thinning hair, suddenly looking a hell of a lot older.

"She’s just a kid, Dante. A good one. Innocent. Don’t ruin her."

Dante’s face shifts.

For a second, just a second, the mask cracks - and you see something fierce and guilty flicker in his pale eyes.

He bites down on the toothpick harder.

"I know," he mutters, voice low.

And because you’re standing just inside the door, because you heard the whole damn thing,  you press your back to the wall, heart pounding, not sure whether you want to run away from him...

...or straight toward him.

The door creaks under your weight, giving you away with a loud squeak.

Dante's head snaps toward the sound, a slow grin spreading across his mouth like a sunrise. Enzo groans like a man being personally victimized by the universe.

"Shit," you blurt, caught red-handed even though you try desperately to escape last-minute.

"Well, well," Dante drawls, stepping back inside like he owns the place, that cocky swagger back in full force.

"How much of that did you hear, princess?"

You lift your chin defiantly, cheeks burning.

"Enough to know you called me cute."

Dante winks, completely unrepentant.

"That I did. You gonna sue me, sweetheart?"

You open your mouth – and absolutely nothing comes out except an embarrassing, flustered squeak.

Enzo watches the two of you like he’s witnessing a car crash in slow motion.

"I swear to God," he mutters under his breath, rubbing his temples like he can already feel the headache brewing, "if you two idiots start dating, I’m moving to Alaska."

"I like Alaska," you comment brightly, before your brain catches up with your mouth.

Dante snorts, delighted.

"See? She’s got good taste. First me, now Alaska."

"That’s it. I’m getting the shotgun," Enzo grumbles, stomping toward the kitchen.

You and Dante just grin at each other like you're already plotting how to make everything worse.

“Dinner tonight, sweetheart?”

“I…I’d love to!”

[icycoldninja]

Hey Icy, how are you, a request after a long time if it's open. It is for Dante, a fanfic. I want all the tooth rotting fluff, angst and swirls of emotions, from Dante proposing his long time fem!reader gf to their very intimate wedding under moonlight with DMC crew and Morrison walking the reader down the aisle, while Vergil officiates the wedding. Idk, but I think Vergil will agree for once. nero can be the best man and Trish can be the reader's maid of honour.

Thank you for listening

HEY HEY, I'M DOING GREAT! HERE YOU GO AND ENJOOOOY!

Moonlit wedding (Dante x Fem!Reader angst/fluff)

Dante stood on your doorstep, knees knocking together and mind a frenzy of panic, excitement, and fear. He'd promised a date a few days earlier, saying he was going to take you to a nice restaurant as a way to make up for lost time, since he'd been working really hard to pay off his debts lately. He was doing this because he wanted to have a clean slate when he proposed to you, which was the true reason why he wanted to take you out tonight.

While this sounded easy enough in his head, Dante found that gathering the courage to actually go through with these plans was very difficult. He was, to put it simply, very scared, for various reasons. He was afraid of rejection, afraid of what would come after marriage, and afraid that he'd fail to protect you, like his father Sparda failed to protect Eva.

Even though you two had been dating for a long time, Dante was still worried you'd say no. He had no way of knowing whether or not you really wanted marriage, since you'd never sat down and talked about it, and if you did reject him, then what? How could you continue? What if your relationship deteriorated because of this one little question? What if he lost you?

"C'mon, Dante," His mental voice said, surprising him with its existence since it rarely ever made an appearance. "When'd you get so indecisive? Just go on and ask her already."

So Dante took a chance and followed his gut, and he never regretted it.

Dante stood by the altar outside in a simple tuxedo, Nero at his side in similar clothes, a boutonnière in his suit pocket. Despite 6 whole months having passed since the proposal, Dante was still as terrified as the day he stood upon your doorstep, waiting to pick you up. Shaking slightly, Dante looked over at his nephew, and the two men locked eyes for a minute; Dante forced a nervous little grin and Nero let out a small chuckle.

"You'll be fine," He mumbled, so quietly only Dante could hear him. "She'll turn up. Ain't the type to run off."

Dante nodded, his nervousness leaving with that reassurance, and his humor returning. He looked over his shoulder, at the sharply dressed but frowning "officiant", and made a face. Vergil scoffed in return and looked away, but after a moment, a small smile crept upon his face. Truth be told, he was happy for his brother; honored to have been chosen to officiate your wedding even though he held no real position in the church.

"I wonder what they'd think of us now," Dante mumbled, reaching up and scratching his head.

"They would be proud, I am sure," Vergil responded softly. "I imagine Father would be up in arms and Mother in tears, fussing over our outfits."

"That does sound like them," Dante chuckled. "Well, actually, I bet Dad would like Y/N. She's a keeper."

"Indeed," Vergil agreed, reluctant to say so.

"Hey," Dante began, after a moment of silence. "Since you're basically Dad reincarnated, speak on his behalf. Ya like her or not?"

"I...suppose," Vergil grumbled, folding his arms. "A sweet girl, one who could do much better...but it is a good thing she chose to stay with you."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Dante laughed.

"It means you need all the help you can get and that girl is the only one who can and will give it to you."

"Huh," Dante shrugged, thinking about it for a moment. "Guess you're right."

Almost as soon as he finished that sentence, the famous song "Here comes the bride" played by an organ filled the room, providing the perfect background music as Dante beheld your white-clad form as you walked down the aisle, dress shimmering in the moonlight, Morrison at your side, holding onto your arm; Trish behind you in a simple but elegant gown, throwing flowers petals onto the floor as you walked. Even though your face was obscured by a lacy veil, Dante could see you had a wide smile on your face, and found himself grinning from ear to ear as well.

In just a few moments, you'd reached the altar. Trish hsd emptied out her basket of flowers onto the floor and followed Morrison to their seats in the front row, leaving you and the Sparda boys standing at the altar. After exchanging looks with you and Dante, Vergil began to speak.

"We are gathered hear today to witness the joining of these two in demonic matrimony. Do you, Dante Sparda, take Y/N L/N as your sinisterly married wife?"

"I do."

"And do you, Y/N L/N take Dante Sparda as your sinisterly married husband?"

"I do."

"Then by the power vested in me as a son of Sparda, I pronounce you two husband and wife."

Nero then handed Dante the rings and Vergil the Yamato, which the latter used to tap your shoulders like a king bestowing knighthood while you and the former slipped rings onto each other's fingers.

"Go ahead and kiss already, you fools," Vergil grumbled fondly, sliding the Yamato into the sheath on his hip and watching as Dante tenderly lifted the veil up over your face, taking a minute to admire how the moonlight danced upon your features, making you seem to glow like an angel.

"You're so beautiful," He mumbled, leaning in and kissing you deeply.

You responded by hooking your arms around him and tugging him even closer, trying to savor this moment for as long as you could. You would have been disappointed when he finally pulled away had you not known that this moonlit wedding marked the beginning of a fulfilling and happy marriage that both of you deserved.

[cottoncandy-cult]

Birthday Trash

Dante x Half demon! Reader

(Y/n) watched from a tree in the distance as a silver haired male had cut down another demon in the park, the (H/c) head was a half demon herself and though she feared the man as he was quite fearsome, she was also enamored with him. It was late at night when the girl went walking after work, she had heard a series of sounds coming from the clearing at the end of the trail. A brief flash of the silver blade in the moonlight had told her it was him; she had climbed up a way to get a better view but also to try and hide herself from his icy eyes.

(E/c) orbs watched as he re-sheathed his blade, once his back was turned and the male had taken a several steps away (Y/n) had hopped down from her hiding place. Her back was to his general direction as she had to walk the opposite way of him to get home, that was when she felt warmth radiate from behind her, a soft and teasing tone uttering a quiet "boo" before she found herself pinned to the tree. Bright blue eyes locked with her own and froze the female in place, this man was a threat to her existence from what she had witnessed and now she was trapped. "So how did you like tonight's show? ~" He gave a playful chuckled, both hands on either side of her head. She could have died then and there, he had clearly known or noticed she had been watching and she wasn't even sure for how long. She was almost shaking, this didn't go unnoticed by him, his eyes softening as he realized she wasn't one for fighting. "Calm down now I'm not the kinda guy who would hurt a lady with no reason, besides... You aren't even a full demon."

That had been the start, she had explained about hearing the demons talk about a slayer that used the town as a base. How at first, she watched him out of fear, keeping tabs on him in case he got too close to her usual haunts. Of course, he had known from the start, and admitted that he did observe her as well and knew she wasn't some kind of violent beast. He had apologized for scaring her, and she had apologized for seemingly stalking him.

It had been 6 months since then, Dante had become a regular at the cafe she worked at and the two had become fast friends even though she was much quieter and shy.

Tonight, was a special night, it was (Y/n)'s birthday but she had no one to celebrate with. At least until Dante managed to convince her to come with him to a bar, they had been drinking together at a table on the far side from the door for over an hour. Despite being a half demon, she didn't drink a lot, so her tolerance was rather low. At some point Dante had dismissed himself to the bathroom, leaving (Y/n) alone with her fruity drink in the crowded establishment. At least until 2 males approached her, one leaned against the wall and the other sat next to her.

For about 5 minutes he was flirting with her, the socially awkward girl in her drunken state couldn't convey her disapproval in a comfortable way as she didn't want to be rude. She was turned slightly to pretend she was listening to the one sat beside her, because of this she missed how the male against the wall had emptied a small clear vile of liquid into her colorful drink. When the one flirting began to get more disgusting with his comments she took a drink from her cup to try and help her generate an excuse to leave such as a refill or potty break, then it occurred to her Dante was still in the bathroom. So, she slowly stood, waiting for the male to finish his sentence. "I'm s-sorry, I need to use the restroom..." She had figured she could hide in the women's bathroom next to the men's until Dante came out of the restroom, the male simply smiled and waved her off and she fast walked to the bathrooms beside the door that leads outside.

When (Y/n) was weaving through the crowd she didn't notice that so were the two men as they were a few feet behind her and hidden in the mass of bodies, the music pulsed around her and didn't help as everything surrounding her seemed to spin. The girl just got to the front door when she felt her body begin to drop, by that point she had fallen unconscious and no one in the dark and crowded room had noticed the men who caught her and began to carry her out. They had just reached the dimly lit parking lot when Dante spoke up from where he sat on the hood of a car, his guns in hand. "You morons chose the wrong night to go hunting... Now why don't you put my girl down, and I might send you home quickly." His words were colder than the steel of his blade, as the slayer slowly stood the darker haired male of the two kidnappers left the blonde one holding the unconscious female. The skin on his arm ripping away to reveal sharp claws and green leathery skin, he got two steps before he was a pile of dust on the concrete as a single shot echoed in the wind.

The half demon male then turned to the other kidnapper, who was quick to set the girl down and take off running in a last-ditch effort to appease the man, he didn't get far before a shot to the back turned him to dust. Approaching (Y/n) Dante was careful when lifting her up before he carried her off, he was walking out of the bathroom when he saw the men catch her body and carry her off. He initially thought it was just 2 guys taking advantage of a woman, then he realized that the woman was (Y/n) and their reflections in the glass door revealed their horrific true forms. He regretted they didn't just stay in and order a pizza like she wanted, but he wanted her to have a good time. He ended up taking her to his apartment in the Devil May Cry building, not wanting to go through her pockets for her key. He rested the girl on his bed and took off her socks and shoes as well as her jewelry, he sat the jewelry on the table by the bed, so she didn't lose or break anything of course. From there he tossed his jacket and shirt on the desk in his room, kicked off his shoes and climbed in bed.

- - -

It was about 10 a.m. when Dante woke up, (Y/n) was still asleep and Dante found himself hungry. Thinking about the time he decided to go ahead and order a pizza for lunch, he slipped from the bed and left to head downstairs so he could make the call without disturbing (Y/n). It had been maybe a half hour after he left before the sleepy girl awoke, her head was pounding with a hangover, and she hadn't even opened her (E/c) eyes yet. When they did peek open, she spotted a glass of water and 2 aspirin. This being confirmed by the sticky note that simply read "Take these. ~Dante" and she was quick to down them, the young woman simply sat up in place on the bed rocking slightly as she tried to wake up. As her brain finally started to kick start the events of the previous night came to mind, when she spotted Dante's coat over his desk, she knew that he had saved her.

That was when her internal organs decided to try and summon Satan again, at least that's what it sounded like as she became abundantly aware that it was almost lunchtime, and she was hungry. She was just glad that she didn't have to go in to work that day until 4. As the girl pulled herself from the bed the owner of aforementioned furniture stepped into the room, chuckling softly as he watched her stumble a bit. "I ordered a pizza already, there's a clean towel on the bathroom sink if you wanna shower?" The mention of fresh hot water brightened her mood, making the girl smile but cringe from the motion and sound. "Awesome, thanks...and Dante?" She giggled and tilted her head slightly, placing her hands on her hips. "Next time let's just chill and watch movies alright?" She walked off and into the bathroom, leaving the smirking male behind. "Whatever you say, but it's not like I'd let someone hurt you anyways."

[lipglossanon]

Neighborly Affections

Dante x fem!reader (one shot)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slight flirting, PWP, Dante is probably OOC (sorry, I tried!), dirty talk, blowjob, ball sucking, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie

looked over but not proofread

thanks for all the likes and follows! 💜 💜 we’ve crossed the 3000 threshold which makes me wanna throw up from nerves but here we are lmao. enjoy!

Everyone kept telling you that you’ve moved into a rough neighborhood, but you’ve been able to scrape by without any issues—that is, until now. 

A crash from downstairs wakes you from a dreamless slumber. Mind still fogged with sleep, you creep out of your room and over to the stairwell. A loud, otherworldly screech makes the blood in your veins freeze. Goosebumps break out along your arms and you hold your breath.

Some thing begins to climb your stairs. At first you thought it was a deformed monkey, your mind struggling with placing the abomination; but, as it jerkily walks up the steps, you realize it has too many arms for any kind of animal or human. Its limbs all end with hands and weird bulbous eyes litter its body. 

Another unholy wail drives you back into your room, fear suffusing your thoughts and actions. Your hindbrain is in control now, driving you to hide, make yourself small, to stay quiet. Shuffling steps can be heard outside your room now. Clasping a hand over your mouth, you squeeze your eyes shut and hope it goes away. 

Another loud yell from the creature is discordantly silenced by gunfire. Your eyes shoot open and you strain to hear over the beating of your heart. More gunfire interspersed with male grunts come from just the other side of your door.  

Your bedroom door bangs open and you cry out, hands coming up to shield yourself. 

“Nice digs, this your place?” 

You blink. A man meets your stare, crooked smile gracing his stubbled face. His white hair shines in the low light, giving him a supernatural glow. Eyes dipping down, you quickly take in the rest of him. Chest peeking out of an unbuttoned black Henley shirt, a faded red coat ending at his knees, and his hands, covered with black gloves, match his black pants. 

He checks over his guns and slips them back into their holsters as you stare. 

“T-thank you,” voice cracking on the first word; you clear your throat nervously.

“No sweat,” he grins outright, “not every day I get to save a pretty lady in distress.”

Shoulders finally relaxing, you move closer to him, catching a thick scent of gunpowder and leather oil. Seeing him up close, you realize he’s actually quite handsome. A strong jaw and light eyes that easily draw you in.

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

He waves you off, “All in a day's work. ‘Sides, we’re neighbors,” he jerks his thumb to the right.

A lightbulb dings in your mind’s eye.

“Oh! You own Devil May Cry,” you smile, and his grin widens. 

“That’s me. Dante, at your service,” he performs a mocking little bow, fluttering his hand out.

You laugh softly and introduce yourself, fear long forgotten in the wake of this charming stranger. Offering to walk him back to the front door, you chat amiably. 

“It’s safe now though?” You ask just as he crosses your threshold into the street. 

“Safe as houses,” he knocks on your doorframe. “But I’ll be keeping an eye out on ya.”

Biting your lip, you tilt your head. “That’s nice of you. Are you sure I can’t pay you back in some way?”

He tips his head back, cupping his chin with his thumb and forefinger while he thinks. Clicking his fingers, he points at you.

“I got it. Just swing by this,” he glances up at the night sky, “afternoon, and you can file some paperwork for me.”

“Really?”

He nods, lips turning up at the corners, “Posolutely absitively.”

You smile, “Okay, I’ll drop by later.”

Holding up two fingers near his head, he salutes you, then makes his way back to his place next door—gait easy and nonchalant. Closing and locking the door, you slowly walk through your house, taking in the few things that must’ve been broken by that creature. 

In the grand scheme of things, it’s nothing you can’t take care of—you're alive, and that’s all that truly matters. Thanks to Dante, you think, heart fluttering with excitement to see him again. Heading upstairs and climbing back into bed, you fall asleep much easier than you anticipated. You wake up late, but remain unhurried as it’s the weekend (thankfully).  

The rest of the day is spent cleaning up your house—and keeping an eye on the clock—until you feel it’s late enough to pop over to Dante’s place. It’s a little daunting, you muse while you glance up at the flickering neon sign bathing the brick facade and wooden doors in a soft red. Although the sun is still out, this part of the city feels as if it’s perpetually shadowed—the tall buildings crouching around the area like hungry felines. 

Rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a beat until you can hear a man’s voice calling out to enter. Pushing open the heavy oak door, you greedily eye the room in front of you. It’s all wood and leather with minimal lighting, giving the whole space an intimate and cozy atmosphere. Not much furniture except an old desk with a comfortable looking chair, a bar in the back corner next to a jukebox, and a couch near the wall.

��Right on time!” Dante grins at you, feet kicked up on the desk and leaning back in his chair. Lowering his legs, he rests his elbows down on the desktop, propping his chin up on his clasped hands. 

“I’ll let you get to it,” he watches you make your way to the other side of the desk. “All of the papers are here and I just need someone to file’em. It’ll get some of my… associates off my back.“

Nodding, you fight to keep your hands at your sides and not pick at your nails. “Sounds easy enough.”

“Thanks, you’re really doing me a favor,” he winks, lumbering to his feet with a groan. 

Stretching his arms above his head, Dante’s shirt rides up, showing off his lower belly and a trail of hair leading your eyes down before being cut off by the band of his pants. A spark of heat pulses in your body, dropping your eyes down further and seeing a bulge pressing against his zipper. Mouth watering, you snap your gaze up to his face and mentally breathe a sigh of relief knowing his eyes were still shut. 

He doesn’t say anything else, walking over to the couch and flopping down onto the supple leather. Using one arm, he covers his eyes and promptly dozes off. Turning your attention back to his messy desk, you slowly start to organize the papers into quantifiable piles. Hours quickly pass this way until it’s dark outside once more. 

Dants’s still napping on the couch when you finish up the last of the paperwork. Biting your lip, you let yourself indulge a little and run your eyes from his broad chest down to the bulge enticing you like a siren’s song. Clearing your throat doesn’t do anything, so you walk over to the couch. Lightly touching his arm, you try to call his attention. 

He stretches out, shirt riding up again—the visual making you squeeze your nails into your palms. Yawning, he raises up into a sitting position, scratching the back of his head. 

“Damn, finished already?”

Smiling faintly, you shrug, “Yeah, it honestly wasn’t that bad. Whoever did the filing before had an easy system to follow.”

He nods, “I’ll let’em know.” 

Inadvertently, your eyes are drawn to his lap before you jerk them back up to his face, embarrassment suffusing your body.

“See something you like?” His lips curl up into a snarky grin. Spreading his legs wider, he tilts his hips up at you. “Promise it doesn’t bite.”

Not letting yourself think about what a poor decision this might be, you quickly drop down to your knees between his thighs. Gripping the hem of his shirt, you glance back up at him. He nods down at you and you’re quick to push it up, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. Leaning down, you run your tongue across the skin of his belly before nuzzling into his happy trail. Neither of you are even undressed and you feel like you’re going crazy. 

Whining, you fumble with his zipper until he chuckles, hands sweeping yours out of the way allowing him to undo his pants. You eagerly watch as he tugs himself free, no underwear to worry with, only his leaking uncut cock—thick and heavy. Moaning, you press a sloppy kiss to the head. 

“Whoah, whoah, slow down there,” he laughs at you and it sends a frisson of heat to your cunt. “Promise it’s not going anywhere.”

He grips the base in his hand and taps it against your lips. “Such an eager girl, couldn’t wait to kiss it, could you? Practically gagging for it.”

You nod, eyes taking in how big his cock looks, his heavy balls making your mouth water. Without consciously realizing it, your face drifts down. Lolling your tongue out, you lick a stripe up the seam of his balls.

“Ohh, that’s nice,” he sighs out, spreading his legs as far as he can with his pants still bunched around his thighs. “I won’t say no to a pretty girl slobbering over my nuts.”

Whining, you open your mouth wider, messily sucking and licking at his sac. He holds his cock up towards his abdomen, giving you more space to suck his balls. He lounges back on the couch, draping one arm behind him across the back and using the other to grip your head. Eyes fluttering shut, you moan, gliding your warm wet mouth up to his stiff cock. You kiss and suck at his leaking tip, tongue delving into his slit to taste his precum.

Musky taste sitting heavy on your tongue, you hum, dragging your mouth down his fat dick to suck at the base before kissing his balls. Parting your mouth on a soft sigh, your tongue eagerly laps at the soft skin. He grunts, fingers twitching against your head. Eyes half lidded, you watch his head tilt back in pleasure. You suck on his squishy sac, lips and tongue working together to make his cock leak more precum.

You ignore your aching cunt—panties sticky with slick, hugging the lips of your pussy and making your clit throb. Nuzzling his balls, you moan, the vibration rumbling against the sensitive skin. You suck his balls back into your mouth, spit pooling at the corners of your lips.  

“So good,” he slurs, thighs twitching, “‘m really sensitive there.”

You whimper, tongue gliding up the seam of his sac before licking broad wet stripes all across his heavy balls. 

“Mmm suck me,” he groans, “use that messy mouth to suck me.”

Pulling away with a wet kiss to his balls, you run your tongue up his length and lick up the sticky mess dripping from his slit. You concentrate on his fat tip until he’s bucking up with a moan. 

“C’mon suck all of it, wanna be buried in that wet throat,” he croons, hand gripping your head and guiding his cock in deeper.

Your mind’s a blank canvas, head completely empty except for the driving need to get Dante’s cock in you. You choke, trying to slip him into your throat. Pulling back with a retching cough, you watch his cock blurt precum all down the shaft. 

“Try not to hurt yourself,” he jokes, cock flexing against your lips. 

You nod, and he groans loudly when you go right back to trying to deep throat him. 

“Such a messy girl,” he murmurs down at you, hand guiding your head to bob up and down his cock. 

A gargled moan vibrates down his cock as you sloppily suck him harder, spit spilling from your mouth to leak down to his balls.

“Oh, you like that? Like choking on my cock, huh?” he chuckles. “Yeah, ya do.”

Moaning, you suck his thick cock harder, lips stretched wide. 

“Hell, you’ve already got me close,” he grunts, cock flexing as the tip kisses the back of your throat, “gonna cum all over your tongue, stuff your mouth full.”

He humps forward, letting your hot mouth slide up and down his dick, tongue lashing against his sensitive tip on every upswipe.

“God, I’m about to cum,” he pants, ���gonna swallow it for me? Yeah, you will—good girls always swallow.”

Dante grunts, eyes squeezing shut as he stuffs your mouth with his cock—your own eyes wet and hooded while you stare up at his face. His balls draw up closer to his cock. You're so turned on your nipples are tight buds, poking through your top; finally giving in to temptation, you shove your hand into your panties to rub at your soaked pussy. 

“Yes,” he hisses, cock kicking inside your mouth as he stiffens even more. His eyes roll back as he spurts hot and sticky your swollen mouth. “You take it like such a good girl.”

His balls twitch and throb as rope after rope of thick cum paints your throat, coating your mouth and tongue until you have to pull away with a cough, unable to swallow it all. His fat cock spurts a smaller load all over your lips and chin making you stick your tongue out to catch more. Arousal ignites your blood making you feel so hot you’re surprised you’re not catching fire. 

You lean forward and pull the head back into your mouth, tongue lapping up the weak spurts of cum you coax from his spent dick. He murmurs something under his breath, cock kicking inside your mouth—hungry for more of his cum. 

Pulling back, you whimper, burying your face against his thick thigh, fingers rubbing your swollen clit. You nearly go cross-eyed when his cock begins to stiffen in front of your face. Moaning, you drool, open mouthed against his muscled thigh, greedily eyeing his drippy cock.

“Get up here,” he moves his hands to grip your shoulders, tugging you up his body. 

Legs shaking from kneeling so long, you clumsily climb his body until you’re straddling his lap. Not even slipping your panties off, he just pushes them to the side, running his cock against your wet slit. 

“Please,” you beg, mouth swollen and sticky with cum.

“No worries, I got you,” he mumbles, eyes glued to your sopping wet cunt. “Now let’s see how much this little hole can stretch.”

Keening high in your throat, he guides the fat tip of his cock to push into your cunt. Without letting up, he pumps his hips upward while guiding yours down. It feels like it takes forever, your pussy drooling slick down his fat cock as he inches inside your hole. 

“God, you feel so good,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders as his dick grinds against the spongy spot that has your pussy walls fluttering like crazy. 

“You too,” he growls, hands gripping your ass, “this fat pussy’s a perfect fit.”

You can’t breathe, he’s buried so deep inside your body. If you hadn’t spent ages sucking him off, you’d swear you could taste him in the back of your throat. Tipping forward, you bury your face into his chest, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. Whining, you tug open more buttons, open mouthed panting against his pecs.

“Just a sec,” you feel his laugh more than hear it. He raises you up far enough to slip his shirt off, letting you go back to mouthing across his pecs. 

Dante’s chest hair tickles your face, but your fluttering cunt squeezing his cock says you like it more than you let on. His hot palms grip your ass under your skirt, bouncing you down harder on his cock.

“So soft and slick,” he groans above you. 

Splitting you open on his fat cock, you drool and whine with every pump of his hips. His tip knocks into the opening of your womb—sending shockwaves of pleasure pain throughout your body, making you dizzy with arousal. Your cunt gushes slick with every thrust into your stretched hole.

“Cockdrunk already,” he teases, jiggling your ass in his hands. “C’mon, bounce on it. There you go, good girl.”

Raising up, your hands drag down to his stomach, bracing yourself so you can ride him harder. The angle shifts and now he’s brushing against your g-spot with every roll of your hips. Eyes open but unseeing, you moan brokenly, pussy squelching as you fuck down on his cock. It doesn’t take long in this position for your body to arrive at the cusp of an orgasm. 

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you stutter out, making eye contact with the man rearranging your guts. “Fuck.”

He grins, blue eyes crinkling at the corners, “Yeah? Go ahead, squeeze down on me, let me feel this sweet pussy cum.”

Choking out a rasping moan, your cunt clenches down on his cock, body jerking while your brain detonates. It’s the strongest orgasm you’ve ever experienced with someone, and it has you seeing stars. Dante’s talking to you, but you can’t hear him over the blood roaring in your ears.

When you finally come to your senses, you find yourself slumped back onto his chest. He’s still slowly fucking up into your spasming cunt, and it makes your clit throb. 

“Did that feel good?” He murmurs into your hair. “Little pussy gripped me so tight, I didn’t think you’d ever let go.”

Sluggishly, you turn your head to look up at him. You realize you haven’t even kissed yet. Something in your face must give you away because he looks at you with regret. 

“Sorry, I don’t kiss and tell,” his low voice soothes the sting a little. “But I’ll make it up to you by making this little pussy cum ‘til she can’t.”

Faster than you thought possible, Dante has you on your back, pressed down into the couch cushions with him boxing you in with nowhere to move. A thrill of excitement rushes up your spine at the awareness that he never pulled out when moving you. 

He ruts his cock deeper into your fluttering cunt and you whine, hands reaching up to dig into the meat of his shoulders. Groaning, Dante sits back on his haunches, the head of his cock just inside your dripping hole. He humps forward, cock bullying its way inside your cunt. His hands grasp your hips, holding you down against the leather couch. Cunt leaking around his cock, you keen and toss your head back.

“Come on, let’s make this sweet pussy feel good,” he whispers, eyes lit up with mirth. 

Dante slips his hand down between your bodies, resting it across your mound. He rubs his thumb across the hood of your clit, pulling it back slightly to expose the swollen nub. 

“Look at how fat that clit is,” he whistles low, to himself.

He ghosts his fingertips across your clit, little barely there circles on your pudgy bud that has your thighs shaking. Bucking your hips up, you work yourself down onto his cock even further. Grunting at the sudden heat enveloping his dick, Dante pulls halfway out before rocking forward, fucking your pussy in quick strokes.

“Want me to cum in you?” He murmurs. “Stuff this pretty pussy full, have my cum dripping out of you.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, nails scratching at his bare chest. He bites his lip, cock flexing in your cunt. ”Please cum in me, Dante. Please.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll cum in you,” he groans, eyes squeezing shut, cock bullying in and out of your sopping wet cunt. “Don’t gotta ask me twice.”

A breathy chuckle escapes him as he moves his thumb down onto your clit. He plays with the swollen bud, rubbing it until your pussy walls clench down on his dick. Between the way he fucks you open on his cock and the pleasure pooling in your core from how he teases your clit, your orgasm crests violently. Back bowing, your legs clamp around his waist tightly, crying out in pure gratification.

“Good girl,” he coos, fingers pausing to tap on your clit. “Let’s go again.”

You can’t even form words and Dante begins purposefully grinding his cock against the soft spongy spot at the front of your cunt. His fingers don’t let up from tapping and teasing your clit, rubbing the slippery bud lightly enough it’s not too overstimulating. Your body is keyed up and he easily pushes you into another orgasm. 

Your legs spasm and twitch where they rest against his waist. Fireworks explode behind your eyelids, and your ears ring from too much sensation. You almost miss when Dante hits his own peak. Growling, he buries his cock deep inside your soft, wet heat and cums. Rope after rope of his hot, sticky cum spurts inside your clenching hole. You milk his throbbing cock, greedily working more of his thick spend into your pussy.

As you lay there, trying to catch your breath, the shrill ring of a phone pierces the room. Dante grumbles under his breath, pulling away from you with a tired sigh. He slips his cock out of your pussy, eyes tracking the globs of cum oozing from your used hole. Your walls flutter around nothing at his blown out gaze.

“Duty calls,” he gives you a lopsided grin, tucking his softening dick back into his pants. Patting your leg, he climbs up off the couch and walks over to the desk. 

“Devil May Cry,” he answers, phone pressed to his ear. You watch as a frown overcomes his face before it blanks out, lips pressed in a thin line.

“Alright, I’ll be there in ten,” he tosses the receiver back onto the cradle. “Sorry to cut it short, but I gotta run.”

Tossing on his shirt and jacket, he grabs up his weapons while you clamber up onto shaky legs—feeling like a newborn foal. Wincing, you brush down your clothing as well as you can. 

“Yeah, I’ll head on home.”

He follows behind you, making sure to lock his place up once you’re both outside.

“See ya around,” he says with a wink while tipping an imaginary hat at you. 

You shake your head with a smile, “Later, Dante.”

You watch him stroll around the corner before making the short walk to your own place, promising yourself a much needed shower. 

[mylovingkiss]

. ݁ ˖ ⌗ 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 . . .ᐟ ´-

♯ . 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 : dante sparda x fem!reader 𖤝

# 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 : 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭.

# 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 : 3.1k +

. ‿̩͙ . ݁ᛪ༙ . ‿̩͙ .

the lock sticks again. you shoulder it open, and like always, no one's there to answer.

you don't call his name. the lights are off, but the TV flickers. a cheap static staining the walls.

dante's out cold on the couch. one arm slung off the side, fingers barely hooking a can by the brim. his mouth is parted, and his soft snores were beginning to get lost in whatever dream.

he doesn't stir. not at the noise of the screen. or the creak of your boots dragging mud across the boards. not when the door shuts behind you, sealing the night's luminance back into the dark.

he looked so peaceful. it would've been sweet if you simply ignored how the world had been trying to gut you alive. clawing at your throat whenever you'd even try and breathe.

“g'night,” you mumbled tiredly, then mockingly to yourself, “oh, how am i, baby? i'm doing okay, sweet of you to ask.”

you step in. the apartment colder than you remember leaving it.

your gear settles in the armchair. gods know how the zipper of your bag managed to get caught in one of the loose threads of the cushions. sometimes it felt as if life was testing the last strings of patience you held.

but ignoring so, you took a few steps that led you to the AC. turning up the temperature to something more human. letting the warmth settle before joining your thoughts in the bathroom.

the mirror greets you, cracked through the corner, warped in age.

for someone who saves the world on a regular, dante still lives in it like it's falling apart.

not ‘one for being in debt’ he says. . . ironically contradicting the certain situation he has you both against.

the reflection replicates the impurities the previous fight brought. the hollow eyes and split lip, the ribbon of already-dried blood down your temple. not to mention the pale hues poisoning your features.

going out feels less like a mission and more like a jest at your expense. instead of being paid money and assurance, like any other hunter would love, you're left with scars and fewer bullets in your mag.

y'see, dante forgot to mention that part.

you shake your head, reaching for the rag on the sink. it's damp. maybe from before, or from him. and let the water seep.

but the blood didn't rub off. you scrub, and drag until the cloth turns dark. it's stubborn and doesn't want to let go of your skin. over, and over.

it clings—like the things he says. or the ones he doesn't.

and suddenly. . . it's not just about blood you're trying to rid off.

you should've known.

you should’ve.

he's sparda's son. born of devils' skin and a woman's tragedy. you knew what he was before he ever touched you. you knew the look of their eyes was to warn and lips to deceive.

you think of what he said.

you think of how easily he said it. . .

“you knew what this was. come on—i'm not the settling-down type.”

he made it sound like a means to an end. some one-sided bond. nothing serious. . . it always did make you feel pathetic.

you breathe out and your reflection fogs up like it's trying to spare you the sight.

“this... isn't just casual, is it?” you asked, voice softer than usual.

he didn't even mind to look.

“what's that supposed to mean?”

you frowned, shifting the strawberry delight in your hands slightly. “i mean. . . like, we've been going out and doing this for a while. i thought… y'know.”

“you're reading too much into it.” he casually said, the spoon still in his mouth as it muffled some words, “don't make this into more than it is. i'm sure everyone does it, yeah?”

somewhere between the frustration, you hadn't realized you reopened a wound. with how carelessly you've tried to clean your skin, it was quick to irritate the area, pealing back a layer of deeper red.

you want to blame him. you want to call him what he is.

a demon. . . but the word didn't sound fair.

you bite it down, feeling it rot in your throat. but with everything you held back. it was impossible take control of it all.

tears glistened in your eyes, though the voice in your mind persisted you could only blame yourself for this.

. . .he never did promised you safety, nor promise you'd be loved.

and yet, you remember the way he looked at you that first night... held heavy by rain and devil guts, grinning like the world wasn't near its end. you remember his voice, and how it dipped when he called you “hotshot.” like it meant something.

or when his fingers would ever so slightly shift to hold yours. saying “just in case something tried to drag you away.” not that he cared. he made sure to say that. but the tone of his words, or the look in his eyes never helped that cause.

maybe you were stupid to believe that tone meant more than the words that followed it.

you told yourself it was enough. that it didn't hurt. that if you just stayed long enough, maybe he'd figure it out. after all, he's the only one you had. and you his.

maybe you could teach a man made of doubt how to trust. and potentially, how to love. . .

you subconsciously drag the cloth harder across the back of your hands. you feel the sting of another cut breaking open. the warmth of blood lingers longer now, caught in the lines of your palm. your fingers start to shake. whether from the texture or from everything else, it's so hard to tell apart.

you hate how ugly it feels. you hate that it's true. you hate that calling him a demon makes your chest tighten with guilt.

maybe caring makes you naive. or worse—selfish. because you weren't in love with the devil. you were in love with the man who tried not to look flustered when he was complimented. the guy who'd gift you dead flowers because he thought you could simply plant them over again and watch them grow yourself.

could that make you worse of a person?

does that mean you're cruel?

for choosing what part of him to love and which to discard.

for extending your arms to the part of him that told what you wanted to hear, and turn your face from the one that silently begged to be held the same. . .

or does it just make you human?. . . the want for affection. being drawn to solace like any other living thing.

you drop the cloth. and it limps at the bottom of the sink with a sickening sound. the water is gentle. but your skin is raw, proliferating a rose red beneath its surface.

there's a shift. not yours. a creak—barely audible over the faucet's hum.

you don't want to meet the reflection. but the water stills. and your iris finds that familiar shade...

his hand finds the knob to turn off, and he stays there, eyes the color of winter glass, trailing patterns down the porcelain's worn down edges.

you don't greet him. you're still mending your hands. like maybe if you scrubbed harder, the ache in your chest would come off with the grime.

“...why didn't you say you were back?”

his tone tries for casual. like it's just a question.

you stare at the cloth. unsure of what to even say. so you settle with silence.

somehow, that throws him hard. his lips shift like he wants to argue, like he wants to give some dumb quip about how he's unbothered by everything just so he could at least hear your voice. but he doesn't.

“. . . you were gone all day.”

he says it quieter. maybe that's the part he actually meant to lead with.

you nod, but it's faint. your shoulders don't lift much.

he wishes there was some awkwardness, something, anything to distract from the unsettling sensation of your quietude.

he rubs the back of his neck, glancing down like he suddenly noticed how red your hands are.

“…i have some leftover pizza.”

could you even call it an effort? it's more like a life raft tossed out of habit.

it has nothing to do with the conversation. but he always does this. dismissing the main problem like he's afraid of it.

you close your eyes, pressing your palms into the edge of the sink until your knuckles pale.

he notices your distress. “it's pepperoni,” he mumbles. like that's the important part.

you almost smile. almost.

instead, you rinse your hands again. the water runs clear this time, but you still don't look at him.

he watches you for a moment too long, then shifts his weight like he's preparing for something. because he knows after you're done, you're going to leave that door and not speak to him. . . and he doesn't know if that might be the last time.

“is this about yesterday?” it's barely audible.

you don't reply. and that's an answer enough on its own.

“listen, i didn't mean it like that... what i said. . .” he trails off, like he needs the right words to give peace of mind, even if just temporary.

you move to leave slowly, not because you're hesitant, but because your limbs are aching. and along with the strain of your feelings, you can't bring yourself to listen anymore of it.

he notices, and his voice cracks halfway through.

“i was tired—and i say a lotta crap when i don't wanna think about it.” his voice is low now, almost ashamed.

you brush his shoulder on the way past. he feels it, the empty space left behind.

his hand is out before he even realizes it, reaching for your wrist. fingers clumsily closing over it.

“just—wait a sec.”

“dante.”

“i don't want to argue about—“

“nobody is arguing.”

“then let me say something!”

“i'm tired—“

“you were bein' real. and i got scared, alright?”

you pause, feeling the resignation in his voice, and how the irises of your eyes dilate. because you swear this amount of emotion had never neared his lips.

and he hates it, because to him, he looks pathetic.

instead he just stands there. a little awkward in the way some are after being caught with the truth.

“it's not that i don't care,” he finally says.

and somehow, your heart pieced together his words.

i just don't know how to.

he sucks in a breath, and trusts you enough to let go of your wrist.

then quieter, “i’ve... i can handle demons, i can handle fights, and anything my father's name throws at me, but. . .”

his eyes gesture vaguely at you, it's kind of stupid. but he can't help the words out.

“see, this ain't how i wanted it to go.”

you tilt you head, squinting your eyes. “go. . . how?”

“i had a cooler version in my head...” he huffs out a short breath. glancing away, and dragging a hand down his face. “it's not coming out right.”

but you wait. not trying to fix it.

“look, you already know i’m—” he paused, and you notice the subtle twitch in his eyes as he lowers his voice, “a fuck-up. . .” like he flinches at the thought of even being honest with himself.

he finally looks at you. really looks.

“you said 'i love you’,” he says quietly. “and i wasn't sure how to say it back.”

his fingers twitch again at his sides, curling into a fist before unclenching. “and i don't get why you stay.”

“you could be doin' literally anything else. office job. photography. bartending, get weekends off. but you're out here gettin' blood on your shoes, draggin' me home, payin' for groceries i swore i was gonna cover—” his hand lifts to gesture vaguely toward the hallway where the kitchenette resides, a little helpless motion.

“—and when i ask you why, you shut me up with kisses, tell me you chose to do this with me and—goddamn it, i swear you're more worried about me skipping meals than the 10-foot demon hound chasin' us around.” he starts to list it off-not out of mockery, but out of disbelief. out of a desperate need to understand.

he pauses.

“and that scares me.”

“. . . i don't know what to do with that.”

the silence afterward is heavier than anything he's mentioned he doesn't fill it. just stands there, heart begging to crawl out of his chest, waiting for you to answer-or walk away.

“it's reckless, and i swear, i swear—i look at you and i forget how to be the guy i was before.”

he swallows hard. trying to press it all back down. everything he's never said, and never let himself say. rising anyway, thick in his throat, crawling up behind his ribs.

“before you,” he says, almost inaudibly, shame tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“i didn't think there was anything else for me. no future, no version of me that wasn't just. . . surviving.”

then he finally trust you enough. letting go of your hand. bracing himself for you to pull away and leave. but you don't.

“. . . i found you outside that eye-sore of a tower,” he mutters, almost to himself. “firing off rounds from some busted-ass pawn shop pistol.”

you do your best not to smile. he notices.

“world's ending, demons crawling outta hell's crack, and there you were. standing on a pile of rubble.”

his voice shakes with the effort it takes to say it. “and i thought, no way she's sticking around. no way someone like you stays in this mess. 'cause seeing you in itself is a blessing—i mean, damn it.”

“you had no clue what was going on," he goes on, and there's a laugh caught somewhere in his throat. "said you were just looking for a train station. i thought—hell, maybe you'd been hit on the head. or maybe you were just that badass.”

he swallows. you can almost hear it. that tight, dry click of someone dragging emotion through grit.

“you weren't supposed to get dragged into this shit. none of it. blood, demons, cults, hell gates... me. i'm the one who was built for this. born for it, even. i got nothin' to lose here.”

his breath catches a little. he doesn't look at you. “or i didn't have it before.”

“so yeah,” he mutters, quieter now. “i'm selfish. and scared. and real goddamn bad at this.”

“but if this thing between us is the last good thing i ever get... i'm not gonna be the reason it gets ruined.”

“. . . i didn't follow you,” you murmur. “you weren't leading somewhere.”

he blinks. not quite understanding.

“you didn't drag me into anything...” you add.

your voice softens an orphic sentence.

“i wanted to be here. and you're not nothing. not to me.”

he finally looks up at you. really looks.

like he's been surviving of off the idea that you'd never say those words. that he didn't deserve them.

and maybe that's what breaks him.

his hand trembles at his side. not enough to see, but you can feel it.

“…shit,” he breathes, half a laugh and not at all amused. “you've never heard me talk this much, huh?”

you shake your head, a slow blink. “i mean... you talk a lot. but not usually things that, well, you actually have to think through.”

that gets a soft scoff out of him. his smile—worn and faint, barely reaches the line of his lips.

and you watch it fall again, just as gently.

“i just want you to be safe,” he mutters, voice low and hoarse. “and if that means havin' you away from me... then maybe that's what i should've done.”

“but i didn't. and i'm not gonna lie and say i'd do it different, 'cause i wouldn't.”

he reached for the cloth, cleaning through and rinsing off whatever blood there was left on your hands, before placing it back down. “i tried, but, guess i only ended up making things worse.”

you blink through the selcouth feeling in your chest. the way his voice cracks when he acknowledges it.

“. . . so, what are we?”

he looks up again. like you offered him mercy. and that makes him laugh, soft and disbelieving.

“anything you want me to be.”

your lips curl into the softest of smiles. then tilt your head.

he blinks, rolling his eyes. “i'm bein' serious.”

“my over-leveraged moocher?”

“babe,” he warns, and you hear the smile threatening to pair his mouth.

you squint at him like you're thinking. “a guy that actually speaks out about how he's feeling instead of leaving me out in the open thinking he never cared about me?”

his jaw drops, and he quickly gains composure, running a hand through his hair.

“see, i thought for sure you'd bail out by now.”

“how come?”

“someone like you... sticking around in my kind of mess this long?” he scoffs. “yeah, right.”

you let the silence settle again, lighter this time. not raw as before.

then quietly follow-up.

“...it's because i'm cooler, isn't it?”

and you expect him to talk back. to scoff, to playfully deflect like he always does. you even tilt your head, waiting. but he doesn't.

his eyes linger on your face—your tired but amused expression, the tiny crease forming by your nose when you try not to smile.

he exhales, low. “we're on the same level,” he mutters, and you can already hear the eye-roll in his tone.

he finally smiles, faint, boyish in that half-awkward, sheepish way of his. like he can't believe he just admitted that.

and before you can brace it, he leans in, grabbing the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against him.

you gasp, interrupted by a laugh. a real, surprised breathless bubble of sweetest undoing. “what are you doing—“

“bein' romantic,” he deadpans, but you can feel the grin against your jaw. “thought you wanted an emotionally-driven guy.”

his arms hold you firm, his hands warm through the fabric of your clothes.

you're laughing too much to argue. and he kisses you before you can even get a word out.

slow and tentative. only to break messy.

he pulls back just enough to whisper it against your lips, “you are cooler, by the way.” like it doesn't need to be louder than this.

and it's stupid, and sweet, and so unmistakably him, but it lands so softly.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

𝜗𝜚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : hi annon and everyone <3

i hope you see this, for some reason it's not letting me reply to your inbox request so that sucks. . .

i'm going to be so honest i'm a bit of a wuss so there's fluff at the end. . . and it might be ooc but there’s not a lot of material to base this off of.

but tysm for the request! feel free to give me as many ideas or corrections as needed—sorry if this is kind of short... i didn't want for it to be obnoxiously long or boring.

also if you couldn't tell i got a bit lazy at the end, i’m so super sorry, i'll update it as soon as i can! i just wanted to post something for the meanwhile. . .

anyway, i hope this was suitable for your enjoyment. have a blessed day!

© mylovingkiss. 2025 | feel free to request! but please don’t steal or translate any of my works, thank you! ༝༚༝༚

[vinnyvamppp]

How I feel competing with other fic creators (its my only motivation) knowing damn well I'm irrelevant.

[stareiiez]

take it

the alley way smells of piss and copper. it covers up the irritation that makes dante's breath smell sharp and sour in your nostrils. with every inhale you can smell the last little thread of patience he has quelling deep into the dog brain he uses.

his forearm crushes your windpipe. the edges of your vision blur into murky blacks and greys. your nails embed into the grainy brick wall you're crushed against. the back of your head burns and stings, but the pain is nothing compared to freezing steel ravaging your slimy cunt. you can't remember how long you two have been at it. how long you've been on the brink of passing out from the lack of oxygen, only for dante to save you at the last minute. he grants you a few breaths and the color from your cheeks to fade before you're being choked out again harder than the last.

your moans are nothing but squeaks and babbles of incompressible baby babble. you sound stupid. trying to force down mouthfuls of spit that gathers into your mouth, it hurts to swallow. you drool all over yourself. dante likes you like this, messy. both pairs of lips are glistening and sticky, catching on the low beams of champagne colored moonlight.

silver threads of your spent cum string the pistoning metal and your puffy pussy lips together. with every pull back, his eyes happen to watch how wet and shiny his precious weaponry gets. your pussy juices taint the very smooth gun metal, trailing over engravings carved into the barrel of the gun. with how stretched out you feel, wrapped around Ivory's loaded chamber dante thinks you can take Ebony as well up that slutty cunt of yours. he wants to see how stupid and whore like you can get while his girls fuck you in a way his dick could.

you dont know why he's pissed. why dante just dragged you into some alley on your walk home. maybe he didn't burn off enough energy during his latest demonic showdown. maybe vergil or his annoying ass nephew got too deep under his skin and he needs a stress reliever.

either way? he takes it out on pressing the pistol sights against your buzzing clit. it pinches you slightly when he grinds the small crevice against your clit. you shift uncomfortably, hips still rolling forward. just to please him. just so you can see dante groan deep under his breath and press hot kisses along the curve of your sweaty neck.

[kxsagi]

“𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬”

a/n: title has a double meaning :p 

like yes, dante is a demon hunter that fights demons from hell, but he also is fighting the demons in his head because he’s not over you, his ex, at all. 

(artist is Warsong_zhange on X)

being a demon hunter meant dante had seen some pretty horrifying things – limbs torn off, hell gates opening in the middle of suburban malls, one time a demon that looked suspiciously like his landlord. but nothing, nothing, came close to the horror of realizing he still wasn’t over you. 

and yeah, that sounded dramatic, but so was he. sue him. 

he was currently slicing through a hellspawn with rebellion, blood and black goo flying everywhere, but all he could think about was how you used to get mad when he came home tracking demon guts across your nice rug. 

“you have two feet, dante. two!” 

“yeah, and they both kicked ass today.” 

“you’re sleeping on the couch.” 

“... that’s fair.” 

gosh, he missed that couch. not because it was comfortable (it wasn’t), but because you were on it. in a hoodie three sizes too big, hair a mess, and snuggled up against him after cleaning his dirty blood-stained clothes. 

now? his clothes were still stained with demon blood. but he had no hoodie-wearing ex to nag him about disinfectant or maybe not fighting a lava demon with a hangover next time. 

he slammed the last demon’s head into the pavement with a grunt, letting out a breath. the alley was quiet again, save for the soft squelch of goo under his boots. 

“great,” he muttered. “another tuesday night and i’m talking to myself like a lunatic.” 

he checked his phone. no new texts. no calls. not even spam. 

romantic, huh? 

dante shook his head. he knew he was a mess. 

not like “oh, some paperwork’s out of order” kind of mess. more like “the building’s on fire, there’s a weird creature sleeping on the roof, and uh oh, i’m using the microwave to dry my socks again” kind of mess. 

trish had stopped by earlier and taken one look at him slumped over his desk with an energy drink in one hand and a half-eaten slice of pizza on his face before saying, “you look like if insomnia had a kid with bad decisions.” 

accurate. 

he hadn’t really slept since you left. sure, he could pass out after a rough mission, but the dreams were hell. either he dreamed of demons ripping through the city, or worse, dreamed of you. 

you, in his arms. you, calling him an idiot. you, stealing his coat and insisting it was now yours “legally.” 

you, walking out the door because he couldn’t stop shutting down every time you tried to love him properly. 

dante wasn’t good at feelings. he was good at fighting, flirting, and ordering pizza. he was less good at not being emotionally constipated. but hey, he was working on it. kind of. 

he sat back, stretched, and cracked his neck. then promptly groaned because apparently he was twenty-something with the spine of a boomer. 

“man, maybe i’m the demon,” he muttered, rubbing his back. “i mean i know i am, but metaphorically.” 

he picked up a picture frame that had somehow survived the chaos. it was you. holding his sword. upside down. grinning like a gremlin. you’d written ‘guess i’m the real demon hunter now, loser’ on the back. 

he stared at it for a long time. then he said, out loud, “i hope you’re doing okay, wherever you are. and also, i hope you haven’t replaced me with a boring guy named ‘todd’ who doesn’t know how to hold a sword.” 

the next morning, he got a call from lucia. demon outbreak near fortuna. ruins. weird spikes in energy. usual deal. 

he said yes immediately. not because he wanted to save the world or anything noble like that. mostly because he needed a distraction from the fact that he tried to cuddle a pillow last night and whispered “you smell like her” to it (which he would be taking to his grave). 

but it was unsuccessful as you still stayed rent-free in his head, even when the ruins were cold and dramatic and full of fog. perfect date night setting, honestly. just needed a bottle of wine and someone to scream: “THIS ISN’T EVEN MY FINAL FORM!” 

dante wandered through, sword slung over his shoulder, humming something off-key. 

he’d just sliced through a hellhound when he heard a voice. a familiar one. a voice that made every single hair on his neck stand up and also reminded him of the time he spilled coffee on your favorite white shirt and tried to blame it on a poltergeist. 

“hold the scanner steady,” your voice rang. “you’re shaking like a chihuahua on espresso.” 

dante froze. peeked around the pillar. and there you were. glasses on. gloves off. scolding some poor assistant. clipboard in hand. 

you looked good. too good. offensively good. like, “he might actually throw himself into a demon pit out of spite” good. 

and worst of all? you were smiling. 

he ducked back behind the pillar like a man who’d just seen his ex and remembered he hadn’t washed his hair in three days. which he hadn’t. 

“okay, dante,” he whispered to himself. “you’ve fought literal satan. you can say hi to your ex without having a breakdown.” 

lies. 

but he squared his shoulders, walked up like nothing was wrong, and casually said: “so… this is where you’ve been hiding, huh?” 

you blinked. turned. stared. and then said, “are you wearing two different boots?” 

he looked down. “... no,” he lied. 

you raised an eyebrow. “left one has pizza sauce on it.” 

“okay, maybe yes.” 

your eyes scanned him. he looked like a disaster. like the human embodiment of “i miss my girlfriend and i also haven't done laundry in a week.” 

you crossed your arms. “i thought you were dead.” 

“nah. just emotionally unavailable.” 

you snorted. and gosh, it went straight to his heart like a dagger. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked, voice softening. 

“same thing as you, i guess. fighting demons. both in reality and in my head. real normal.” 

you hesitated. “i didn’t think you’d show your face around here again.” 

he scratched the back of his neck. “was kinda hoping to accidentally bump into you, actually.” 

your eyebrows shot up. “oh my gosh,” you said. “did you stalk me?” 

“no! well, okay, yes, but not like creepy stalk. like romantic movie stalk. like ‘serendipity,’ but with more blood.” 

“... that’s somehow worse.” 

he smiled, crooked and boyish. “i missed you.” 

you inhaled sharply. and then, after a long, painful pause, you said, “i missed you too, idiot.” 

his heart actually did a little flip. a stupid, dramatic flip. 

“but,” you added, “you still owe me an apology.” 

he stepped closer. “i’m sorry,” he said. “for being a dumbass. for shutting you out. for thinking i could fight demons with a chainsaw sword and not deal with the ones in my chest.” 

you blinked. 

“... okay, wow,” you said. “who are you and what have you done with my emotionally illiterate ex?” 

“therapy,” he said proudly. “well, unofficial therapy. i yelled at a mirror for two hours and then got stabbed by a demon. character growth.” 

you laughed. it echoed through the ruins. 

and for the first time in months, dante felt something inside him uncoil. lighten. 

he didn’t know what would happen next. maybe you’d get dinner. maybe you’d punch him in the face. maybe both. 

but you were here. and so was he. still fighting demons. still kind of in love. 

and maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them to stop fighting each other. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[ponderingmoonlight]

The Devil May Cry office is quieter than usual, dim with the late evening haze leaking through the blinds. You lean against the counter, flipping a coin between your fingers, pretending not to stare at the way Dante lounges in his chair like sin itself - long legs spread, red coat hanging open, and that damn smirk playing on his lips like he already knows what you’re thinking.

You don’t even realize you’ve stopped flipping the coin until it clatters to the floor.

“Oops,” Dante drawls, not looking up from cleaning his guns.

“Need help pickin’ that up, sweetheart?” You arch a brow.

“You offering, or just watching me bend over?”

He chuckles, finally glancing up - and the way his eyes drag over you is enough to make your breath hitch.

“Why not both?”

The air thickens like it always does when you are alone. You take a slow step forward, hips swaying deliberately. Dante’s gaze follows you like a predator tracking prey, hungry and unbothered by the tension crackling between you.

He doesn’t move - not yet. No, he’s letting you come to him.

Brave of him, honestly.

You swing one leg over his lap and settle yourself there without warning, hands sliding into his silver hair, tugging just hard enough to make his breath stutter. His hands come to rest on your thighs, warm and rough, grounding you.

“You know,” you murmur against his jaw, “I’ve been wondering what it’d take to get that mouth of yours to do something useful.”

Dante’s grin spreads slow and wicked.

“I’ve got plenty of ideas.”

The next moment he’s kissing you - hard, filthy, all teeth and tongue like he’s trying to devour you. Your back hits the desk behind him before you even register the motion. Papers scatter. Something crashes to the floor. You don’t care. His coat falls off his shoulders as you claw it away.

Your hands are everywhere - his chest, his shoulders, the firm line of his stomach. He’s heat and muscle and the scent of gunpowder and smoke and something darker that makes your head spin.

“You gonna stop me,” he growls against your throat, biting the skin hard enough to mark, “or are you gonna let the devil have his fun?”

Your only answer is a breathless moan and the arch of your hips.

[icycoldninja]

Hey! How are you... it's mother's day in India today. And my mother and my relationship strained, though she doesn't know about it.😂

Anyway, not trauma dumping. But can I request lots of angst, followed by lots of love. Basically Dante and fem!reader (his wife) has a cute five year old daughter, she and Dante plans mother's day something for her. As far as trying to make no-bake cake (cause seriously, Dante can't bake for his life and baby is baby.)

I just want it to be followed by the reader questioning after the celebration at night, if she is even a good mother that one day she is turn controlling and obsessive like her mother, when she is alone with Dante. And the baby was awake walking through the hall and overheads. She and Dante make sure the Reader knows she is doing great as a mother. Dante goes as far as saying she is as good a mother as Eva.

Yes, Instagram is giving me a baby fever.

Aww, I'm so sorry to hear that. 💜 And yeah, I get it, when you see how happy other moms are, you kinda wanna be a mom yourself. Here you go, I hope you enjoy and have a great day.

Am I a Good Mother? (Dante x Fem!Reader)

"OK, what's the next step?" Dante asked, bending over your little daughter's shoulder to read the recipe.

"It says...add milk and stir." Said your daughter, standing up on her tiptoes to peer at the recipe sheet taped to the kitchen cabinet.

"OK, I'll get on that," Dante said, patting your daughter's head. "While I do that, go check on your mom and see if she's still watching TV. Do it quietly, though, don't get caught."

Nodding, your daughter scampered off to spy on you, returning a few seconds later with a smile on her face.

"Yup, Daddy, she's still watching TV," She announced, proudly. "And she didn't see me."

"Great job," Dante chuckled, giving the cake batter a good stir.

Today was Mother's Day, and like any loving family, Dante and your lovely 5 year old daughter were fixing up a surprise for you. Earlier, Dante sat you on the couch and turned on your favorite show, ordering you to relax and just enjoy the afternoon. You'd taken the bait and were now absorbed in the aforementioned show while Dante and your daughter made a cake for you, destroying your kitchen in the process.

"OK, now what do we do?" Dante asked, pouring the cake mixture into a glass dish.

"It says chill it." Replied your daughter, walking over and opening the fridge. Dante, slid the dish of cake mixture into the fridge, set the timer, and sighed.

"Great job, Princess," He said, playfully missing up her hair. "Now, go wash your hands and you can go play, I'll keep an eye on the cake."

"OK, Daddy," Said your daughter, grinning.

Several hours later, the cake was ready to be served. You, Dante, and your daughter especially, enjoyed it. After all the food had been eaten and your daughter had been pu to bed, you and Dante had a quiet moment to yourselves, where your dark worries came out.

Dante knew that you and your mother had a rather strained, uncomfortable relationship due to her controlling and obsessive, tiger-mom behavior in the past, and knew that unlike him, you never had the joy of feeling safe around your mother. You always had to put on an act to appease her, never being able to be yourself around her. He never brought this topic up in conversation because he didn't want to upset you, so the matter went largely undiscussed.

Tonight, however, was a different story. Tonight, you started tearfully divulging your fears to Dante, as you lay in his lap.

"I'm just...just worried that someday I'm gonna become like my mom," You told him, tears welling up in your eyes. "You know the saying, like mother like daughter. I don't want our little girl to go through that...I don't want her to have to deal with that pressure, I don't want her to put on an act when I'm around her. I don't want to be like that."

Dante let out a small sigh, running his fingers through your hair.

"Baby, don't talk like that, you're not gonna grow up to be like that old bitch--"

"But you don't know that!" You cried, burying your face in his lap, soaking his pants with tears. "You don't know that. I don't know that. I-"

You were cut off when a sleepy little voice called from the hallway, startling you.

"Mommy?" Called your daughter, stumbling forwards in her pajamas, one chubby fist rubbing her eye. "Are you sad?"

Both you and Dante were speechless for a moment; all you two could do was watch as she continued padding forwards, a concerned little pout on her face.

"Daddy, why is Mommy sad?" She asked. You immediately sat up, straightening your clothes and hair, though you were unable to hide your red, puffy, teary eyes.

"Mommy's not sad," Dante said slowly, trying to figure out a way to hide the truth from your little girl. "She's just..uhh...tired. Yeah, just like you when you get tired, Mommy cries."

"Really?" Your daughter asked, wide eyed. "Grown ups do that too?"

"Yup," Dante nodded, relieved his lie had worked. "I'd better put both of you to bed now, it's getting really late."

You chuckled as the man stood up, lifted your daughter into his arms, and carried her to the bedroom, with you following behind.

"Hey, Daddy?" Your daughter asked, as you neared her room. "Do you cry when you get tired too?"

You and Dante exchanged a brief glance before he answered,

"Yes, I do."

"Does Uncle Vergil cry when he's sleepy too?" Your daughter inquired, now very intrigued.

"Yes, he does," Dante affirmed, laughing. "Now shush, it's time for bed." With that, your daughter's curiosity was sated, and after being tucked in bed, looked ready to fall asleep.

"Night baby," You said, kissing her forehead.

"Night-night Mommy," She whispered, yawning. "I love you. You'e a great mommy."

Dante gave her a kiss and a tickle, and afterwards, he guided you back to the living room, glad to see a smile return to your face.

"See, babe? She seems to think you're a great mom."

"I...guess...yeah," You admitted, shrugging.

"And she ain't the only one," Dante told you. "I think you're an excellent mom too. Hell, you're just as good as my mom was."

"You really think so?" You asked, blushing slightly.

"I know so," Dante chuckled, leaning forwards and kissing you. "Now come on, let's get you to bed before you get too tired and crying again." You laughed at that, the small smile on your face widening into a big, happy grin.

"Thanks, Dante," You said, resting your head on your husband's chest as he scooped you into his arms and carted you off to the bedroom. "I love you...and thank you for...well...telling me what I needed to hear."

"I love you too, babe, and don't think it's just something you needed to hear," Dante said, patting your shoulder as he walked. "It's also the truth."

[httpsmark]

♥︎‹ 𖤩 ¡𝐏𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄!

TW: none, except a bad joke about Dante's hair and a much pizza hahaha

Dante x fem!reader. Don't worry if you don't like the pronouns used here; you can change them to your preference or however you find most comfortable.

a/n: HELLO EVERYONE!!! sorry if I've been gone for so long. Life hasn't been kind to me these past few months, honestly… It may be late for this but I think it doesn't hurt. Also, because i've just finished watching the Netflix series, i'm obsessed with this guy. I'll watch the 2007 series later. (I swear...)

Dante always had a preference for pizza. If strawberry ice cream was one of his favorite things, pizza was even more so. But he didn't have many things he called "favorites." The only ones he considered "favorites" were pizza, strawberry ice cream, and demon hunting. However, there weren't many things that were compelling enough to pay attention to. He was a fairly simple man. He enjoyed life in a fairly simple way. Well, if we're talking about very simple and unimportant aspects like his lifestyle, he liked to let himself go because he wasn't a man who cared about anything else, no one knows exactly. And that was his charm.

While enjoying he pizza as he took a bite, the opening of the restaurant door caught her attention but it was only for a brief moment to see a girl with (h/c) hair come in. Her appearance was a coat that covered her almost completely, making it seem as if she was wearing nothing but the coat, although she was only wearing shorts and a black blouse but they weren't noticeable because of the coat. When she took a seat next to him, he only looked at her for a few moments before turning his attention back to his food and continuing to enjoy it, at least that was the case until she spoke.

—"Excuse me, ¿Can you give me the same order as the gray-haired man?" —Said the girl in a somewhat comical tone of voice, pointing as she looked at what else was offered on the menu in front of her.

¿A man with gray hair? ¡But that was his natural hair color! ¿How could she not know? Did he really look that old?

He's struggling internally to argue with her or let it go. People always commented on his hair or his age, but he felt the girl had meant it with bad intentions. Before he could even say anything, she spoke again.

—"Nice gray hair." —She said. He looked in her direction with mild amusement, but I could also sense that "honesty" in her voice.

—"I know" —He replied somewhat self-centeredly.— "Thanks, but it's my hair color. It's always been that way" —He added.

Neither of them said a word beyond what they had just said to each other, at least that was at first, but after a few moments (n) he dared to talk more with that man, deciding to engage him in some conversation to get to know him a little better.

—"By the way, ¿what's your name? You don't look like someone from around here" —She asks as takes she order and begins to take a bite of a food.

He just laughs lightly and then watches her eat her pizza for a few moments, then focuses on his own food. He introduces himself as Dante while the girl reveals herself as (n). (N) found his name strange, but he had to admit that it was a pretty cool name. Even he had to admit that her name wasn't a very common one to hear or see a girl with that name.

—"I have to admit you gratify me, what do you think if i treat you to the next slice of pizza this time?" —She proposes with a smile, although it seemed more like a somewhat mocking smile instead.

—"¿How could I refuse a tempting offer that includes pizza?" —He joked, returning the same smile she gave him.

Time passed, and the two chatted; sometimes it was he who talked more, or even she. It didn't really matter who talked more; they were both having a great time, and like any good time, it had to end. She asked for the check to pay but not before seeing him leave a napkin with something written on it next to it.

"I hope to see you again (n). May this place be the place of our next meetings."

That made her face turn blush red, but she didn't mind the idea of ​​seeing him again. She was already excited to see him again.

I hope you liked it!! Remember to like and follow me so I can keep publishing more content. In case you're wondering, i'll keep writing about Mortal Kombat. It's just that I have to resume some abandoned drafts there.

If you have a question for my absence (although i doubt anyone would be interested) you can ask privately and i will gladly answer. :) ps: if something is not written correctly, ¡please let me know!

[athenaluciscaelum]

I need gender bend Dante in my life (Netflix or DMC 5, I let you decide). I don't know what the story would be if he turned into a woman. But he probably dealt a difficult demon on his demon hunt.

But imagine As his fem s/o, eating gender bend Dante up in submission and eager to please fem Dante is a heaven. 🤤

Note: Okay, I messed up. I forgot the submission part. I'm so sorry, I will make it up to you. Please, let me know somehow that it was okay or not. I will re do it or work it out in some other scenario. This is my first time writing for a Female! Dante. So any inconsistencies or OCC. Apologies

While I was writing this I had @rabiadraw Fem!Dante in my mind. Of course, I won't be using any picture, but keep it in mind.

Dante, My Princess

!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Pairing: Fem! DMC5 Dante x GN Reader

Rated: Mature

Words: 1548 words

Warning: Explicit language, Heat Cycle, oral sex

Disclaimer:

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

LETS ROCK!!

Let's start with discussing parameters or headcanons for female! Dante:

This will be taking into consideration that Dante is AFAB and not a trans female, since those two can have different impacts in one's life. Pronouns will be she/her.

-Dante has beautiful parents, and he is from the Sparda bloodline. Female or male, Dante will be pretty. But unlike her mother, who is elegant, calm, and collected. Dante is still going to be like her father, Sparda.

-Fem! Dante is cocky, playful, flirty, and as strong as ever. She is a legendary demon hunter, and no demon is going to be spared.

-Fem! Dante is going to be as sexually confident as Dante is. She will be bold, flexible, and creative when it comes to sex or intimacy in general. She is really comfortable in her sexuality.

-Fem! Dante's life can be different in a way that she will get a lot more judgement and negative advances given how beautiful and strong she is. Men will be pestering her a lot more; not that Dante is spared anyway from men's attention, even as AMAB. I believe Eva will raise two beautiful independent women who will be quite confident in their own skin and personality.

-Fem! Dante will have to prove herself in her earlier days a lot more than Dante. It is just challenges and breaking stereotypes that come with being a female.

-Fem! Dante will also have to go through a lot more indecent sexual advances and outright trying to take advantage of her, which she will handle no problem. But it will leave a bad taste in the mouth. It might sadly also open possibilities to demons trying to capture her and use her to breed (let's not talk about this, too dark, but yeah...).

-Fem! Dante won't be any different in the way she handles stress and depression. But Lady and Trish might include her more in their shopping spree and girls night if she is up to it, but I doubt she will be.

-Fem! Dante had a heat cycle, so I think there will be no periods with blood. Just really horny fem! Dante.

-Fem! DMC5 Dante will be a mature woman, I know, but this is new terrain for me. I will chew one at a time. We are keeping the insecurities that come with ageing (which is also talked about by Male Dante himself in the DMC5 novel).

If we have to think about Fem! Dante DT, I will think of it as a cross between Lucia DT and Nero's DT.

With those in mind, let's start.

Dante was sitting on the couch thinking...she overreacted. Something she heard a lot in life. But when V came through the door and mentioned 'Vergil's' name, she couldn't control herself. She was on edge and needed to calm her nerves.

Morrison will be back by night to collect her to go to Redgrave along with Trish and Lady. She sighed as she stood by the table looking at her mother's portrait. Suddenly, someone hugged her from behind. She doesn't even have to look; she knew before you stepped in and your scent hit her nostril; it was you.

She relaxed and sighed as you kissed her neck, your arms wrapped around her waist. You spoke, moaning, "You look stressed, baby..." You kissed her neck, pulling down her red leather coat and letting it pool on the floor. You never stopped kissing her neck, from her jaw to her collar bones.

Dante whimpered and relaxed; she hummed as you turned her and sat her on the table, spreading her legs to stand between them. Your hands cupping her beautiful face, your thumb caressing her soft cheek. Dante looked up at you with her icy blue eyes through her white lashes. Your thumb wiping her bottom lip, smearing her perfect red lipstick, you spoke concerned, "What's going on in that pretty head of yours, baby?" Dante blinked up at you. She spoke frustrated, "Vergil...." You raised an eyebrow, your thumb caressing pulses in her neck to calm her; she was literally purring. You spoke as you tilted her head up, "What about Vergil?"

Dante huffed, too irritated to talk about it. She took your hand and placed it on her breast. She was blessed in that department. She was full, soft and so delicious. Dante sighed in relief as you started to squeeze and massage her both breasts with each hand. "Just focus on pleasing me, Y/N." She spoke with hunger. You knew better than to ask more.

You nodded as you held the hem of her Henley and discarded it on the floor in a flash. You are not going to waste time when your princess needed you. Your hand pulled up her bra to let her breasts bounce out. It made you heat up and feel so aroused; just the sight of her flustered, vulnerable and spread out for you was too much.

Dante was always so bold and confident, but you just knew how to bend her. And fuck! You loved it. Your hand moved up behind her head to pull her shoulder-length white hair down gently to tilt her head up. You claimed her lips in a passionate kiss, your tongue exploring every inch of her mouth while your other hand fondled and pinched her nipple buds between thumb and forefinger, making her cry and moan in the kiss. You drank it all hungrily, determined to make her forget all her problems in the moment.

You knew there was so much you could do. But whatever you can do. You will. You also remember that your princess was on the last day of her heat cycle, not very horny. But still it is your duty to keep your princess satisfied.

Your hands drove down as you kissed her mouth, jaw, neck and collarbone while also biting her to leave marks. Marks that appeared and healed in second, shame. But you knew she could leave you marked and claimed. Not you; something to deal with when dating a Sparda.

Anyway, you had a pretty demon in your hands to please. You were keeping her legs apart, making Dante frustrated for some friction. Your hands rubbed her inner thighs, and you purred, "Patience, my princess..." Dante's face was flustered as you broke the kiss, and her red lip smeared on both of your faces.

Dante nodded; you popped her leather jeans button open and pulled down her fly. You smirked, those strawberry-printed cotton panties again. You got on your knees as you pulled down her jeans and panties; Dante held up her hips to let you slide it down her ankle and off her

You looked at her pretty wet folds glistening. So wet and ready. You can never get enough of it. You wiped your middle finger from her slit to up her clit, and Dante moaned. She was loud and expressive, her moans like a hymn to your ears.

You were so slow and torturous; she whimpered, "Y/N, eat me already!" You smirked, "As you wish, princess; your wish is my command." You curled your arms around her thighs to keep her wide open. You start with kisses on her inner thighs, sucking and biting to move to the apex.

You stuck out your tongue and took a big swipe from her pretty hole to her clit, making her shudder. You helped her lie down on the table, her legs hanging off it. You looked at Dante's mother's portrait and thought internally, 'I will love and cherish her, I promise,' and put the portrait in the drawer. Awkward.

You screw your middle finger in and out of her hole; it was so tight, wet, and velvety. She was fluttering around your finger as you screwed her while your tongue lapped on her juice. Dante was whimpering and crying. Her fingers threaded in your hair, her manicured nails massaging your scalp to pull you in closer. Your nose nuzzling her soft white mons, heaven.

You sucked on her clit, her legs trembled and she cried, "Ahaa....so good.......so good....fuck! Keep going, Y/N; please do not stop..." You tongue-fucked her pretty hole as you alternated between thrusting and sucking with your flexible muscle. You spoke in between slurping and licking, "Keep singing for me, princess..."

Dante was beautiful, splayed out on the desk, bra pushed up, tits out, all flustered, hair sticking to her forehead, her bottom naked. She was soft as cream and clouds. You kept pushing two fingers in and lapping on her pussy; Dante cried and arched her back, "Close! So close!"

You could notice that she was about to cum; you were ready, screwing her, pushing your finger all the way in to find her soft spot and rubbing it... She came hard and crashed. Your mouth was ready to lap it all in.

You rode her through her orgasm, pulling your finger out, looking at her straight in her icy blue eyes and licked those fingers clean. You smirked, cleaned her up with a hot towel, and held her close to your chest. You nibble her earlobe, "I'm always there...hmmm...I trust you; you got this..."

Dante nuzzled your neck; she will be strong. If not for herself, then for you.

Tagged: @doodleferp

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟐: 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓!

𝐂𝐖: reader gets stalked and promptly has a panic attack

𝐀/𝐍: guys i did it! i finally got the next chapter out! (she announces to the crowd that has been sitting in the stands for like, three weeks or something)

𝐖𝐂: 6k

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: @arienic

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

once again, the weeks seemed to pass by like a blur. this time, however, it was a good blur. ivy and the girls who were suspended eventually came back to regular classes, but when they returned, their reputations were less than savory now in the student body. needless to say, you were left alone, and for the most part, you were met with somewhat friendly faces—at least, the same amount you would’ve had before the drama.

it was like you were back to living a “normal” teenage life again. you had a normal house, you went to a normal school, you had (somewhat) normal friends, and you had a decently normal reputation. for once, in a long time, you didn’t feel like there were eyes on you. not from a self-acclaimed gang. not from obsessive girls.

not from behind the tinted windows of a dark idled car.

soon enough winter break had come and passed, and it wasn’t until well into spring that something interesting happened again (aside from your friends’ general shenanigans, which seemed to always be there as a form of entertainment).

you actually were quite fine with nothing interesting happening, but it seemed general drama was something you never can escape when you're a teenager, whether you wish upon it or not. so when whisperings of prom coming up meet your ears you think the drama that ensues will pass right by you, especially since it was only the upperclassmen who got to go.

but, of course, that was not the case.

“kate?”

your usually confident and thick-skinned friend zoned out at her reflection in the mirror, not really staring at herself but instead seeming to be in a distant world as you washed your hands. normally, you wouldn’t question the behavior. you yourself were not immune to zoning out and daydreaming from time to time.

but this was different.

katelyn usually had so much energy, and she always seemed to be in the present, ready for the next thing and on to the next subject to talk about. but she had been quiet all day today, barely managing any smiles and seeming absent from every conversation your friends had. it had been a month since she’d told you the news that she and jeffory had broken up, and while she definitely seemed upset, she had held up pretty well in acting like she wasn’t.

it was a little unnerving seeing her like this.

“katelyn.” you call for her again, your previous ask for attention seeming to have gone completely over her head.

“hm?” she hums, taking a full five seconds to turn her attention to you.

“what’s wrong?”

she blinks, shaking her head. “nothing.”

you note the dark circles under her eyes.

“kate.” you sigh, turning fully to her and leaning on the sink, giving her a knowing look. “you gonna hide something from me of all people?”

her nose twitches, the tip of it turning red as her bright blue eyes gloss over.

“…jeffory and i were supposed to go,” she says, her voice breaking as she blinks away her tears, showing you a prom flyer that had been crumpled in her hand.

“oh...” you murmur.

how does one comfort a friend in a situation like this? she hadn’t even told you the reason for their break up, merely saying it was “complicated” and that it was pretty peaceful. still, she seemed so upset about it even now. she suddenly brings a hand to her mouth, shaking her head as she tries to keep her strong front. very quickly it’s crumbling though, and you sigh her name at the sight. stepping forward, you pull her into a hug, one she quickly reciprocates with a shaky sniffle.

“oh, kate. it’s okay.”

the bathroom door squeaks and you quickly spin her to where her back faces whatever girls came in, hiding her teary face from sight. it’s probably very clear something was up, but you could only hope it’s not too noticeable.

“what’s going on in here?” teony’s voice curiously carries through the air like wind chimes.

lucinda comes after, her tone teasing as the clicks of her heels approach the other side of you. “a cute girl group hug with no invite…?”

both of the girls lose their steam when they catch a glimpse of katelyn’s expression, their faces falling into concern.

teony sighs. “oh, no. what happened?”

katelyn merely shakes her head, resting her cheek on your shoulder as she hunches over you like a wilted flower. turning your head to them, you point down at the prom flyer that had flitted down to the ground with a small grimace.

“aw, katelyn. you shouldn’t be crying over this…” teony says, reaching forward to rest her hand on the weeping girl’s shoulder.

“no, she shouldn’t.”

you raise your eyebrows at lucinda’s blunt lack of sympathy in her response, her lips pursing as katelyn’s watery eyes glance over to her with a sniffle.

“katelyn, snap out of it. it's been a while since you guys have split up. you need to pick yourself back up.”

you blink wide-eyed at the ginger, eyes flicking to teony who sighs under her breath.

“now, lucinda, you know—-”

the bathroom door squeaks again, and aphmau’s cheery smile skips right on in, happy hums leaving her mouth.

“oh, there you guys are! guess who just got asked to prom!” she cheers, freezing with an abrupt click of her heels on the tile when her eyes land on katelyn’s.

katelyn’s breaths shake before she once more breaks down into tears, slumping over your shoulder.

the three of you shoot an annoyed “are you for real?” look to the freshman, one she returns with a sheepish squirm and awkward smile when she realizes her blunder. slowly she walks up to your and katelyn’s sides, hugging onto the both of you.

“i’m sorry! don’t cry, don’t cry! shhh…”

lucinda rolls her eyes with a groan, before very suddenly pulling you and aph away from kate and lightly shoving her shoulder back, making the girl stumble. “alright katelyn, that is enough! where is that spunky girl who wants to kick my ass all the time? come on, girl. don't you want to fight?!”

katelyn frowns, her puffy lips pouting in annoyance as she catches her footing and shoots a glare at the sudden… attack.

what kind of comforting method is this, luci? you deadpan, looking to the other two girls who seem equally as taken aback.

“lucinda, i don’t think now is the time–” aph starts, before jumping at katelyn’s sudden grunt of annoyance.

“fine! let’s go!” she starts, beginning to march quite aggressively toward the girl.

this may be the most bizarre therapy session you’ve ever witnessed.

“that's the spirit.” lucinda grins, seeming to get hyped at the return of katelyn’s hot-headedness as she lightly bounces on her heels. “come at me, bro! we'll fight until your arms become marshmallows.”

the blue-haired girl’s steps stutter and her shoulders slump, her determination immediately deflating. “jeffory... loved marshmallows.”

“really?!” lucinda throws her arms up in exasperation. “you’re joking!”

“great job. you made it worse.” aphmau deadpans, before shimmying up to katelyn’s side and pulling her into a hug once again. “it��s okay, come here. let me hold you, kate…”

lucinda rolls her eyes. “aphmau, we can't baby her through this!”

“it’s not babying, she’s in her feels!”

“alright, ladies!” teony suddenly says, sounding similar to a judge calling for order. “that’s enough. i know what needs to be done!”

you’re unbelievably grateful for teony’s aptitude for leadership—especially in this moment.

“lucinda, it's not babying. katelyn needs our help, and we need to be there for her,” she says, hands on her hips and an assertive expression on her face. “after school today we’ll go on a friend date with the whole group to get her mind off of things. a little pick-me-up, if you will.”

“i guess you're right… it does break my heart to see katelyn like this.” lucinda sighs, her bristled front melting to show the spark of concern in her eyes as her own shoulders slump. “we have to do something.”

katelyn looks around at the four of you, wiping her nose with her hand and sniffling before reluctantly nodding. “alright, i guess…”

you shoot her a sympathetic smile, placing your hand on her arm. “there you go.”

aphmau hums, looking over to teony. “so, what are we going to do?”

the academic weapon grins, a plan seeming to have already brewed in her mind. “don’t you guys worry. i’ve gotten it all figured out. just meet me in the parking lot after school.”

☆

“the mall?” you raise your eyebrows, glancing around at the amount of people who seem to be in on this. did teony call the whole avengers squad for this?

not only was the obvious here—teony, lucinda, katelyn, and aphmau—but somehow from this afternoon when teony made the plan she also wrangled nicole, nana, garroth, laurance, and vylad, as well as… dante and travis? this is… an interesting mix for sure. though, based on the passive looks on nicole and nana’s faces, they don’t seem too bothered by the blue haired flirt being present in the group. that’s good, at least.

“yep! a friend group date is long overdue anyways, right?” teony grins, patting a still downcasted katelyn on the back as she walks to her car, sitting a wink over to aphmau. “plus, i promised aphmau i’d take her for a ride in my car sometime.”

“really?” aph gasps, running over to the yellow convertible in excitement. “i can ride with you?”

“mhm, and there’s room for one more…” she shoots you a pointed look, waggling her brows in suggestion.

from the corner of your eye you see nana, her fangs peeking from her bottom lip as she looks at teony’s cute bug in wonder. aw.

“that’s okay. it looks like nana really wants to go with you. i can catch a ride with someone else.”

the meif’wa squeaks in surprise, looking between you and teony with sparkles in her eyes, before hugging onto your arm. “really?”

“well aren’t you sweet?” she tilts her head affectionately, waving over the meif'wa. “come on, then!”

“guess i’m just chopped liver.” nicole scoffs, crossing her arms as she watches the girls run ahead.

“you can ride with me, sweetie,” lucinda coos, waving her keys between her polished fingers before glancing to you. “my car’s a two seater, though. sorry, i guess you’re stuck with the boys.”

“stuck with us? she’s pretty lucky!” dante protests, appearing next to you quite suddenly.

nicole snorts, not even glancing back at him as she continues walking. “you keep telling yourself that, bud.”

you raise an eyebrow as he visibly deflates.

travis snickers from behind the two of you. “damn. you just took that, huh?”

“oh, shut up.” he sighs, turning and delivering a weak looking chop to the other boy's stomach.

shaking your head, you look over to the more reliable ones of the group. “so… can i ride with one of you?”

“duh, of course you can.” laurance smiles, reaching over to pat your hair. “garroth has been driving a cadillac suv, so we have enough room for everyone.”

the nepo baby in question sighs at laurance’s dramatic jazz hands as he mentions the luxury car brand. “it’s my mom’s.”

“okay, well i was literally an orphan in foster care—”

“why do you do this to me?”

“i call shotgun!” dante calls, dashing around to the passenger side before garroth can even unlock the suv.

“hope you don’t mind sitting next to me?” vylad nudges you with his elbow, his round cheeks squishing into a dimpled smile.

“of course not.” you round to the other side, jumping up into the back seat as vylad gets in himself.

“scooch, you.” laurance taps at your legs, pointing at the middle seat.

“sure,” you shimmy over, only to nearly get clocked in the face by travis’s shoe as he crawls over vylad to get to the very back seats. “damn!”

“my–! bad–!” the braced teen grunts, a small thud coming from behind you as he flops down between the seat and the floorboard. “ah!”

“you could’ve just asked me to move the seat.” vylad laughs, glancing back without much concern at the boy. “you’re just as bad as zane is, making everything harder than it needs to be.”

“i know he’s your brother, so no offense, but please don’t compare me to him.”

“...none taken.”

“oh, yeah. speaking of which, where's zane?” you speak up, looking from vylad to the oldest ro’meave brother.

“he was feeling kinda sick today, so he stayed home. had a cold, i think,” he says, pausing before looking at you through the rearview mirror. “by the way, is katelyn… okay? teony told me she kinda put together this whole hangout to lift her spirits.” 

“yeah… she just got kinda upset now that everyone’s talking about prom since she and jeffory were supposed to go together.”

you jump as travis’s hands slap onto your headrest, his messy white hair appearing from behind you as he gasps at the news. “wait, she’s single now?!”

genuinely you cannot stop yourself from slapping your palm right onto your forehead.

“calm yourself,” laurance scoffs. “she won’t be jumping into your arms anytime soon.”

“anytime soon, but it could be anytime,” he meekly says under his breath, tapping his fingers gently onto the headrest.

“learn from me and i bet you could bag her easy.” dante smugly turns around wagging his brows.

“you fumbled not one, but two cute girls at the beginning of this year,” you deadpan, crossing your arms and leaning forward with a stink eye. “travis doesn’t need a single crumb of advice from you.”

laurance starts to snicker from behind you as dante’s face falls into a pout before he slightly recovers, gathering some dignity. “hey, but i got them.”

“and then fumbled,” vylad adds, the simple and cheerful tone of his voice making garroth and travis join in on the laughter.

you’re unable to hide your amusement as well, especially when you see even dante cracking—the corners of his lips wobbling. “okay, yeah. damn, you got me. but i did learn from that. i actually don’t feel good about it.”

“good, you shouldn’t,” garroth scoffs, reaching over to flick the side of dante’s head.

after more… interesting topics truly only teenage boys could conjure up in the car, you were finally at the mall and stepping onto the tiled floors of the building. light filtered from the huge skylights above through the tree and garden installations in the center of the large building, the sight refreshing through all the different smells and noises of the shops around. 

your feet quicken their pace as you race up to katelyn’s side, linking your arm with hers as your voice lowers to a whisper. “how do you feel?”

bright blue eyes dart to yours, the whites of her eyes still a bit red and irritated from her earlier upset. she opens her mouth to speak, before shrugging with a quiet sigh. “i appreciate the thought, but i don’t know how i feel about everyone being here right now. i feel like it’s obvious i’m upset. it’s kind of embarrassing.”

you shake your head, lightly pushing into her. “don’t be embarrassed. we’re all here because we want to hang out with you and make you feel better. a lot of people don’t have good friend groups like this. i know i didn’t before i came here.”

she looks down, seeming to let the words soak in before she glances back to the rest of your friends, a small smile tugging on her lips. “yeah… it’s been a while since i’ve hung out with some of those dorks, anyways.”

a wave of relief washes over you, and you thank whatever part of your brain that managed to conjure up the eloquence to say something successfully comforting. “that’s the spirit.”

“um, hi, katelyn!” travis rushes up to her other side, making her jump in surprise.

“oh, hey…”

“i know you’re feeling down, and i just wanted to say—i mean, ask! are you an angel?”

“huh?” she blinks.

“cause you must have fallen straight from heaven.”

“wh—“ she stutters, before a few chuckles leave her lips. “you can’t be serious. that’s the lamest joke in the book.”

travis’s eyes widen and his shoulders seem to stiffen up in confidence, the boy seeming to be energized by her smile. cute. 

“i… i’m trash!”

“what?” she laughs in confusion.

“so can you take me out?”

katelyn continues to giggle, her laughter lightly carrying through the air. “that’s a good one.”

“are you a camera? cause i smile every time i look at you.”

the smile on katelyn’s face lasts for most of the ventures through the mall, her mind seeming well distracted from running through the arcade to eating snacks from the vendors—until your group walked by an outlet store with their beautiful prom attire on display.

“ooh, look at those pretty dresses!” nana suddenly squeals, pointing to the display with all different kinds of dresses in the window. “aw… i wanna go to—”

aphmau, who’d been eyeing the dresses herself at the front of the group, spins on her heels with wide eyes and sends a high pitched “mew!” to the meif’wa.

lucinda looks up from her phone, a quizzical look on her face. “why you just… meow?”

“she’s stopping her from mentioning prom cause of jeff—”

you stop in your tracks, waving your hands wildly. really?!

teony bites her lip, slowly shrugging up her shoulders with a guilty look on her face. “oops…”

for as smart teony is, she totally slipped that up!

kate looks down, and the whole group freezes up, almost seeming to collectively hold their breaths. after a few moments of tense silence, her voice comes out… uncharacteristically quiet. “i’m done with the mall for today.”

no, no, no! she was doing so good!

“uh, the park!” you blurt, causing the whole group to turn to you rather than the fresh coat of tears gathering in katelyn’s eyes. “i think after all this time inside we should go enjoy the park. it’s just down the road.”

“good plan,” laurance smoothly says, clapping garroth’s shoulder as the boy tosses his keys up in his hand—the rest of the group slowly nodding along. “a walk would be nice.”

☆

and it was a good plan. a breath of fresh air in the warm spring breeze leaving not much to think about except for the large old trees overhead and the people nearby playing… volleyball!

it seems teony had the same idea, as she very quickly suggested a quick little match to get katelyn’s spirits lifted again. glancing up at the girl, your shoulders sag when you see the disinterested look on her face as she shrugs.

“i don’t really feel like playing right now,” she mutters, making teony’s draw drop in shock.

“well, i see those kids over there playing soccer. i’m gonna join them if anyone else wants to,” laurance says with a small wave, prompting aphmau and vylad to eagerly follow as he jogs over to the nearby field. travis stares at katelyn for a few moments longer as dante runs off after them, the boy’s eyes round with worry before he reluctantly starts walking over, too.

lucinda scoffs. “okay, katelyn, are you really—”

“we’ll be right back,” you quickly interrupt, looping your arm with the heart-aching girl and beginning to walk over towards the bridge nearby before lucinda can use any more of her “tough-love” tactics.

the stone bridge was beautiful, and the architecture seemed like it had been built long ago, though new supporting renovations had been made since then. you lean onto the railing and stare down into the lazy flowing river below, the gentle sounds of the water going along the riverbank filling the silence between the two of you. katelyn leans over, too, staring down at her warped reflection down below and letting the wind flick her hair wherever it decided.

“why’d you both break up?” you ask quietly, studying her side profile as you wait for an answer. 

katelyn truly was pretty, her straight nose and starking eyes framed by powder blue hair, and a few stray freckles dotting her pale cheeks. on top of that, she was a good friend–despite her occasional hot-headedness–and was pretty strong in her loyalty. from what you saw from jeffory, you can’t imagine he’d have done something to hurt her, but you’re kind of tired of not knowing the whole story, either.

“i… i was the one who broke up with him,” she whispers, sniffling as tears begin to stream down her face.

you frown. so it wasn’t a mutual thing. “why?”

“he just—it’s gonna sound so stupid.”

“it’s not stupid. you don’t cry over nothing.”

she lets out a deep sigh, swiping away the tears from her cheeks in an attempt to compose herself. “he was just too nice.”

…

“huh?”

she looks over, shrugging as her chin wobbles. “i dunno. i just kinda felt bad about myself when i was with him. and it’s not fair to him 'cause that’s not his fault that he’s so perfect.”

you’re speechless for a good few moments. “what are you talking about? like, you don’t think you’re good enough for him or something?”

her head dips down, a shaky breath leaving her lips. “no, it’s… like i can do no wrong when i’m with him, even when i’m clearly in the wrong on something, he just agrees with me on everything and never has an opinion on anything.”

understanding dawns on you, and you slowly nod. “he was a great boyfriend, but your personalities just didn’t mesh.”

she looks up at you eagerly, nodding. “yeah. i need someone who can, i don’t know, challenge me? contrast my… stubbornness.”

you snort. “y—”

“yes, i’m admitting to it,” she quickly cuts you off, a small smile wobbling through her tear-stricken face. “i know i can be pretty hard-headed, and i need someone who won’t just let me push them over on everything.”

“i understand,” you say, reaching out your arm to pat her back. it trembled with every shaky breath she took.

“thank you.” she sniffles. “i just… feel so guilty about it. and i am upset, i really liked him—do like him. he’s so sweet and deserves the best and i just feel like i can’t give that to him.”

at that, she seems to break apart again. she’s really holding all of this on her shoulders.

“oh, kate. you don’t need to feel guilty about it. some things are just not meant to work out, and it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. you both could even still be friends after all of this, i’m sure of it. he won’t hate you for this.”

her shoulders wrack. “i know he won’t, which is why i feel so bad!”

“shh, just breathe.” you worry, rubbing her back some more. “here, i’ll go grab you some water so you can calm yourself a bit, okay?”

she gives you a weak nod, letting her hair fall to hide her face as she lets her teardrops fall down into the river. you let yourself stand for a moment to watch her, your heart squeezing for your poor friend as her mind continued to batter her emotions into a pulp.

as you turn to make your walk, you’re intercepted by garroth, who seemed to have idly waited by the edge of the bridge, looking on in worry. “hey…”

“hey.” you sigh, glancing back at kate–who was still hunched over the stone railing–and back at the blond. “she’s really going through it.”

“yeah, i can tell.” he frowns, his eyebrows pulled together. “do you think… uh…”

you tilt your head at his sudden sheepishness. “hm?”

“i was thinking of a friend to invite with me as my plus one to prom, and i honestly was debating asking you… but i was thinking maybe inviting katelyn would be nice. to take her mind off of jeffory,” he says, and your eyebrows shoot up on your forehead.

“wait, what? but i thought only sophomores and juniors get to go.”

“i'm only going because my teacher is on the host staff and asked me to help.” he shrugs. “plus, i get extra credit for it.”

“oh… that makes sense,” you murmur.

“yeah, sorry. guess i shouldn’t have told you i thought about inviting you only to say sike! nevermind!” he snorts, his voice turning comically goofy at the end and consequently making you burst into giggles.

“oh, my feelings are so hurt, garroth. how could you break my heart like this? i’m just a second choice to you?”

he shakes his head, his prince charming smile wide on his face. “no, no! never! my sincerest apologies.”

your amusement calms, and you pat his arm. “seriously, i think that’s a good idea, actually.

“okay. i thought it would be nice, but i wanted your opinion first. didn’t want to make things worse, you know?” he scratches his head, glancing over to kate.

“yeah. and it is really nice. you’re so sweet, garroth.”

the tips of his ears slowly turn red, his eyes darting down to the sidewalk. “thanks…”

“well, maybe you can go talk to her now. i’m gonna get her some water real quick.”

he nods, blond curls bouncing along with his head. “yeah, yeah, okay. i’ll go do that.”

you watch with a fond smile as he jogs over to katelyn, his hand gently ruffling her hair and making her jump in place. he was so thoughtful.

the vending machines near the restrooms wasn’t much further, and you glance over to watch just as laurance was completely demolishing those kids and scoring another goal on them. this was the same one you had gone to grab a water for zane, when he’d gotten hit in the face with aphmau’s lethal soccer kick. you wonder if he’s still looking up to gene, or if maybe he’s grown out of whatever horrid phase he was in.

you chuckle under your breath at the thought of the little emo ro’meave. though, little was an understatement. at the rate he’s been seeming to grow, he might even manage to end up taller than garroth. still, his attitude is enough to make him little in your eyes, as hilariously demeaning that sounded. you’re sure if you said it to the boy’s face he’d throw a whole string of insults your way.

as you wrinkle your nose at how fondly you thought of the little brat, your eyes catch jet black sitting in the parking lot ahead, its engine idling lowly. your blood drains from your face as you freeze in place, breaths shortening as your eyes slowly drift up to confirm what you just saw.

suv. jet black paint. jet black windows. dark headlights. facing right at you.

no. that’s not them. breathe.

why is it on? who’s in there?

“just act normal. i’m okay. i’m okay,” you mutter under your breath, shakily taking in your next breath as your finger slips and you click for a gatorade instead of water. “shit.”

you tear your eyes away from the vehicle, bending down to grab the drink with trembling hands before quickly standing again and looking ahead once again.

there’s a man. where have you seen him before? he looks so familiar. tan… dark eyes from what you could see in the distance you were at… brown hair… kinda tall. he looks pretty average, but you can swear you’ve seen him before. and he’s looking right at you.

the gas station. when you’d been there with gene. you’d seen the same suv then, too.

your heartbeat picks up, hands going cold and sweaty and throat tightening.

is that him? the one from before? did he find you again? why is he showing his face to you now?! IT’S HIM!

it almost felt like you were outside of your body, your face and limbs gone completely numb as you held eye contact with him. your vision blurs, and you can barely keep track of him as he slowly walks over to the passenger side of the black vehicle. as you blink to regain your sight, you see that that blank look on his face is gone, instead replaced with a taunting smile as he tilts his head.

IT’S HIM. CALL FOR HELP. SCREAM FOR GARROTH, KATELYN, SOMEONE.

one of your hands reach up from the gatorade, tightly gripping onto the locket zianna had given you.

a boy walks up to the man, standing just shorter than him. he was a werewolf. silver piercings on his ears glinting in the sun and a streak of blue running through his bangs.

who is he? he looks young. but is he in on it? he could be. was that his son?

his eyes shift to you, and you watch as they widen at you, his expression shifting into something… uncomfortable? scared? you can’t quite place it, your own brain going too haywire to associate anything with anything else. he turns from you and quickly gets into the car, not giving you a second glance.

you can’t hear anything but ringing in your ears and the sharp breaths that you struggled to take in. the man slowly opens up the passenger door, before slinking into the vehicle and disappearing inside.

you hear your name muffled against your left side, before a firm grip clasps on your shoulder.

“no!” you shout, whipping towards your assailant and whacking their arm away, stumbling back as the gatorade falls to the ground, rolling from your feet.

garroth stands shocked, his hand still held out to you and eyes wide. katelyn, stood a step behind him, has an almost identical expression. 

“woah… it’s just me,” he says, voice low and eyebrows pulling together. “why are you so scared?”

you blink rapidly, shaking your head and looking back to the vehicle. garroth and katelyn follow your line of sight, and as their eyes land on the suv it backs out of its spot, before quickly driving away.

“what? who was that?” katelyn mutters.

you shake your head. it’s so hard to breathe.

garroth’s hands land on your shoulders again, and instead of fear you feel comforted by their strength. you tear your eyes from the empty parking spot, looking up at him.

“please. talk to us. you said we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other anymore.”

katelyn picks up the gatorade, pointing to the nearby bench. “she looks like she’s having a panic attack, or on the verge of it. let’s let her breathe for a second.”

garroth’s face twists in guilt, before he slowly nods. “yeah, sorry.”

guiding you over to the seat, he sits next to you while katelyn takes the spot on your other side. you stare forward at the field, listening to the distant sound of your friends’ cheers and shouts as they run around in the grass. it takes a while. a minute. or two. maybe even five or ten. you’re not sure. garroth and katelyn don’t speak, letting silence sit between the three of you and merely exchanging worried glances when you take in a particularly sharp breath. finally, your breaths calm to a slow pace and your shoulders slightly relax, letting you slump back to rest on the bench properly.

“...i moved back here. because of him,” you say, voice more hoarse and whispered than you expected it to be.

“him?” katelyn asks, her head whipping to look back to the parking spot like the suv would still be there. “in that car?”

you nod slowly.

garroth sighs, his eyes trailing down to the necklace that you still had clutched between your fingers. you didn’t even realize you were still holding onto it. stiff fingers release the locket from its confines, your nails leaving deep imprints on your palms.

“i don’t know everything… but my mom kind of told me the reason why you were here. that you had a stalker?”

katelyn quickly looks back at you. “what?”

you take in a deep breath. “yeah. it was that same vehicle. i’ve been seeing it again. i keep thinking i’m just overreacting but…”

you gulp, blinking more tears away again. “i think it’s the same from before. i don’t know how they found me. he found me. i thought i could at least be safe for a year—”

“you are safe,” garroth says, wrapping his arm loosely around your shoulder. the firm and sure way he said it almost makes you believe it. “as long as you’re with us, you’re safe.”

katelyn nods. “i… had no clue. but garroth’s right. we won’t let anything happen to you.”

you shake your head slowly, folding your legs up to your chest. “it’s been happening for so long. i’m so tired of being scared.”

“...why haven’t you told any of us yet?” katelyn murmurs, setting her arm on top of garroths as she also hugs you.

“i didn’t want to draw attention. plus, i didn’t want anyone to know. i wanted to leave it all behind. start over. but he won’t let me.” your nose pricks as tears fall down your cheeks again.

garroth sighs under his breath, the sound tense and almost… angry?

“i’m sorry,” he mutters, glancing up at katelyn before resting his cheek on your head. “i hate seeing you so scared, but i’m glad you told us. from the sound of it you can’t ignore it anymore, and you need us to help and protect you.’

“and we will,” kate adds.

you stare blankly ahead at the field, and take in a deep breath when you see laurance looking over, squinting to get a better look at the three of you with a frown on his face.

“please don’t tell anyone. you can tell our close friends, but i want this to stay a secret...”

“of course,” garroth quickly says. “wasn’t even thinking of telling them until you said anything. this is more than just a small secret.”

katelyn nods, her voice quiet as she seems to process everything. “yeah…”

“and don’t treat me differently,” you mutter, finally looking them in the eyes. “okay?”

they both nod, eyebrows pulled together.

you sigh, looking forward again. “so. you going to prom together?”

garroth guffaws and kate makes an audible noise of shock.

“you just told us the most traumatizing ongoing experience of your life, and that’s how you ease out of that conversation?”

“are you?”

katelyn slowly nods, trying to calm her face into a more pleasant expression. “yeah… garroth actually made me laugh with that stupid voice he does.”

“the hur-dee-dur one?”

garroth laughs, not sounding all that amused but still giving an attempt at it. “yep, that one.”

“good. i’m glad. i think it’ll be fun.”

he nods. “yeah. you know… laurance is a part of the helping crew too. maybe he can take you and we can all go together. that would be a lot of fun, huh?”

you stare in thought, noticing that the boy himself was starting to walk over from the field. you hadn’t even let the thought of attending prom cross your mind, but the thought of dressing up with your friends at a party you technically weren’t supposed to be at sounded like something from the teenage experience you had been craving since you got here.

“yeah. that would be fun.”

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @remiechu @valentique @kalegrinch

[shybongocat]

By popular demand I will now be posting my current fanfic on here as well.

It is a DanteXReaderXVergil fanfic (I ain’t about Spartacest) 🤢

It will contain FLUFF N ANGST and ‼️SMUT‼️ so if you’re not into smut I suggest not reading this fanfic but if you are… 👀✨ read to your hearts content

It’s still ongoing but right now it has 12 chapters.

Let me know in the comments if you want me to post the rest of the chapters as I’ll only post this as like a snippet of it 😉👌

———————————-Chapter 1———————————

~enjoy ^^ ~

Walking along the cracked pavement road you found yourself lost and confused wondering how the hell you ended up here. You had a map with you that you were following but not too long ago the map was shredded by these marionette scythe wielding monsters. You had no clue what they were but luckily you had your grandpa old vintage sword that he bestowed you before he died. He taught you how to wield and fight with his sword from a young age and you continued to hone your skills even after he died. You believe in continuing his legacy and know he would of wanted that. Your grandpa was known as the “demon killer” and all demons knew his name, he was known as a powerful swordsman and could take down any demon easily. He was no person to mess around with and any powerful demon that laid eyes on him knew they were in for a fight. You were mesmerized by all his story’s we told you of his journeys throughout his life. Though you mother didn’t approve of you becoming like your grandpa but your grandpa swore to protect you and teach you how to protect yourself when a situation between you and a demon were to arise. You were only 6 when your grandpa started teaching you his skills and techniques. You were of course horrible at first but you were a quick learner and learned to improve from your mistakes.

Years past by as you learned and learned more and more from your grandpa and before he knew it he taught you all he knew.

“That girl gonna be a strong swordsman someday..” grandpa exhaled resting on a rocking chair just outside the front door watching you practice. “I just don’t know if this is the right path for her, dad” your mother sighed feeling uneasy of what your becoming. Your mother always worried about you since you were her only child before your father passed away from a demon attack.

Your father was in no way a brawler or could even defend himself. He was just a normal person. But your mother more or less could. She was obviously taught by her father to fight and wield weapons but she wasn’t so into it unlike you. But she was taught basic survival skills when encountering a demon. Your father was just at the wrong place at the wrong time and ever since your mother never remarried or found another lover. Your father was her only soulmate and she was depressed for a long time grieving her lost soulmate. So it was you and your mother against this insufferable world together.

“Don’t worry violet, she a strong girl” grandpa spoke lifting his lips into a soft smile trying to uplift your mother spirits. “I know but still.. what if she gets hurt?” Your mother sighed feeling uneasy still as she watches you practice in your front house driveway swinging a wooded sword.

“Violet just give her a chance and you’ll see she’s strong, I can feel it in my soul” grandpa was more stern this time but still spoke in a soft tone.

Your mother sighed slouching in her chair next to grandpa knowing her dad is right but your still just a child and feels like as your mother she should protect you, not the other way around. But luckily years passed by and you grew and grew, your grandpa even started taking you on small test runs to see how much you’ve improved in honing your skills. You started at small easy demons to leveling up to more stronger demons and each test you passed with flying colors even surprising your old gramps that aging too fast for your heart to handle. And before you knew it you by his side on his death bed with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Grandpa please don’t go, there’s still so much to you have to teach me..” you sniffle as wiped away your tears. “Oh jess, I’ve taught you all I know” grandpa coughed knowing his time is near. You bawled you eyes out as you rested you head between his blanket until you felt a hand pat your head stroking through your H/C hair “I have only last thing to give you Jess” grandpa coughed through his words feelings his chest getting heavier. You lifted you head meeting eyes with your grandpa before directing them to your hands. It was a necklace with a mysterious small glowing orb attached to the center piece. You stared at it with curiosity and confusion. “Keep this safe please” grandpa whispered out as he took his last breathes before slowly shutting his eyes as his breathing soon stopped.

At that very moment something clicked inside of you. Like a match being lit. Your swore to yourself from that day forward your gonna make your grandpa proud and continue his legacy no matter what.

Years passed as your grew older and honed your skills even more that even ordinary demons were no challenge to you. You defeated demons from the shadows helping people secretly as to know let them know you even helped. You called yourself “Phantom” and you enjoyed your secret little job being a helpful demon slayer, helping people in trouble.

You never had a sidekick or anything and preferred to work alone. You liked it that way.

“Kyaaaaa!! Someone help me!” Shouted a women running as 4 marionette demons chased after her. Their clunking and squeaking limbs as they chased her. She panted as her movement started to slow down and before she knew it she was cornered in a alleyway with no escape. The marionette demons slowly step by step inched toward her from the other end of the alleyway. Her legs buckled as she fell on her butt shaking like a leaf as she slowly crawled backwards u til her back was against a brick wall.

“Please! Just make it quick..” she whimpered as she shuts her eyes knowing the outcome.

You were slowly stalking the situation trying to get a good angle to attack the demons without being seen. Seeing the free open moment to attack as you got into position before a red flash whirled passed you as the 4 demons were instantly defeated in a blink of an eye.

“Phew! Made it just In time before these shit turds got to ya” a man with silver messy hair sporting a red outfit with a red jacket with a demonic looking sword on his back and 2 guns in holsters behind his lower back. You were in awe a person can even move that fast, you watched from a nearby rooftop.

“You okay there miss?” The man questioned the frighten women. Her eyes slowly peeled open as she saw the demons gone and a man in front of her lending her a hand to get up. “Oh-uh-thank you” she stammered as she slowly took his hand helped her up. “Gotta be careful out there miss. These streets are dangerous and crawling with demons” the man spoke with a stern voice. She nodded and quickly made her exit as the man was left there smirking as she left

“Who is that guy?” You whispered to yourself.

“Is that guy your referring to me cutie?” A sudden voice spoke from behind you

Instincts kicked in as your whipped you sword from your back as you quickly swung toward the sudden noise from behind you thinking Its a demon.

You felt the sword piece through knowing you got it but your eyes widened as you scanned from bottom to up as its wearing the same exact clothes you were eyeballing from the alleyway of that man. Your mind was twirling as thoughts on confusing mixed.

“Shit.. that was a good swing. Straight to the heart” the man coughed as blood spilled from his mouth. You froze in place not knowing what to do as the man scanned your face smirking.

The man huffed as he raised his hand to gently remove the long blade from his chest. You eyes widened even more watching him now even more confused. How did that not kill him? You thought. You instinctively went straight to the weak point without even knowing.

He soon pulled the blade from his chest as blood soon healed up in an instant.

“How are you not dead?” You finally managed to whisper out hoping he didn’t hear that.

“Why Indeed.. why indeed miss” he chuckled slowly pacing back and front before stopping in his tracks scanning your frozen position.

“Ever heard of the demon Sparda?” The man spoke with the corner of lips curling into a smirk.

“Sparda?.. uh-yea I’ve heard of him. The demon that was once evil until he met a human women and soon became a good demon” you chocked out slowly gaining your movement back

“Bingo!” The man clicked his tongue smirking. “I’m one of his sons” he winked

One of his son? He had more than one? You had so much questions that needs answering.

“You can call me Dante babe” winked offering his hand to help you up. You took his hand and soon got to your feet.

“The name y/n” you blushed tucking a piece of hair behind you ear. Dante notice that and chuckled softly.

“We’ll see you around.. y/n” Dante chuckled as he fell from the rooftop back against the drop and with a red flash you saw a red streak whirled in front of you ahead.

You mind still mingling with all the questions still unanswered. If he’s the offspring of sparda than that makes him half human half demon… but how is that possible? And why does he look so human if he’s suppose to be half demon? So much questions your brain was overloading.

“I need to find him again” you whispered making you new goal now to find Dante and get some answers out of him not matter what. You clenched your fist as you pounded with your other palm with a determined smirk.

[stareiiez]

dante is the guy who LOVES to make you jealous, because you keep telling him you're not into him.

you ' hate ' his cocky smirk, his inability to shut the fuck up, and how handsome he is . Dante and you, you and Dante. The dynamic duo, the dream team. you wonder how Lady ever put up with him in the early years, he never taunted her by having pretty women on his arm. leaning in too close to their ear and whispering something either naughty or flirtatious enough to make them giggle and swat at his bare chest.

your teeth grit, the grip on your drink you nurse turns ever so tight. the glass threatens to crack, hairline splinters grow under delicate finger tips when he guides them away somewhere far from your line of sight.

" they mean nothing to me, babe. " he's panting in your ear from behind, your body bouncing back and forth agressively on his cock. his hazy gaze locked on yours in the seedy bathroom mirror of the bar.

your hair is covering your flushed face, it hides the way your eyes roll when his cock rolls against that one spot inside squishy walls that make you actually believe the bastard. angels sing heaven's praise into your cranium, and the whites of your eyes glow when he speeds up further at the frantic clenching of your sticky cunt.

his hair is askew, and teeth flash in that stupid smirk that has yet to even leave his face at least once this entire night.

sure, you hate dante. you hate everything about him; expect for his dick and his fingers the bruise the soft curve of your lower back. the sweat on your skin makes his grip slip, and he pinches soft love handles with greed.

tomorrow in the early hours when you both are hitting the road.

you'll say you want nothing to do with him, and keep it as strictly professional as possible, until the next time you slip up and you let him get under your skin and into your head. and even better, into you.

[kxsagi]

“𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐢 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢’𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲”

a/n: guys the dante brainrot has not left, it's a lifestyle

title inspired by the song that dante OWNS, vintage by eva (i think it’s russian? correct me if i’m wrong)

(art credits go to seyyy_12345 on x)

you weren’t here to win hearts. you were here to win tickets. 

the arcade smelled like popcorn, cheap carpet, and faint childhood trauma. the ceiling tiles were probably older than you, and the air-conditioning wheezed like it had asthma, but none of that mattered. because you had one mission and one mission only: absolutely demolish the high score on “dance frenzy 3000.” 

your fingers hovered over the start button, eyes narrowed. the current top score glared back at you from the screen. “D@NT3 – 785,000.” 

“dante?” you snorted. “who spells it like that?” 

“i do.” 

you turned. slowly. like a horror movie protagonist. 

and there he was. tall. lean. smug. arms crossed over his chest like a final boss. his silver hair fell perfectly in place despite the humidity of a thousand screaming children, and his smirk? it should’ve been illegal. 

“you must be the one who's been hogging the machine every friday,” he said, stepping closer. “thought i’d see who had the guts to challenge me.” 

you looked him up and down. dramatic red coat. shiny boots. some kind of sword strapped to his back, because of course. 

“… do you wear that to the grocery store?” 

“only on weekends.” 

you blinked. he didn’t. 

so naturally, your brain did the only logical thing. “wanna dance battle?” 

a beat. then his grin widened. “i thought you’d never ask.” 

round one: danger zone (remix) 

you went first. the screen lit up in seizure-inducing neon, the beat dropped, and your body moved like it was possessed by a dance demon. 

left. right. spin. double stomp. perfect. perfect. perfect. 

you could feel the eyes of fellow arcade-goers watching. a toddler dropped his slushie in awe. somewhere in the distance, an elderly man saluted. 

you struck the final pose with flourish. the score flashed. 812,200. 

you looked at dante. “your move, silver fox.” 

his brows lifted. “silver fox?” 

“dance, old man.” 

“you’re gonna regret that.” 

round two: heartbreaker (nightcore edition) 

he was annoyingly good. infuriatingly good. 

you hated how graceful he was. how his coat flared with every step like he’d rehearsed it. how the machine hit him with a “SICK!!” rating and you somehow felt that in your soul. 

but something shifted in the air mid-song. he caught your eye. for a second, the intensity melted, replaced with something softer. 

admiration? amusement? a devastatingly attractive combo of both? 

you looked away first. 

he missed a step. 

“HA!” you cheered, finger-pointing like a victorious rival. 

he flipped you off mid-spin, which the toddler’s mom definitely didn’t appreciate. 

round three: “mecha rave showdown” (sudden death mode) 

you both played with the ferocity of two people trying to win a gold medal or possibly a marriage proposal. maybe both. 

the score? tied. 

your lungs? burning. 

your pride? on the line. 

the music ended in an explosion of bass and neon, and the screen blinked furiously. the final verdict? 

DRAW. 

you both dropped to the floor, chests heaving, limbs vibrating from the effort. the world spun. your dignity floated somewhere near the popcorn machine. 

“you,” dante said between wheezes, “are the most annoying person i’ve ever met.” 

“right back at you,” you panted. then grinned. “had fun though?” 

he looked at you, and this time, he didn’t smirk. didn’t tease. he smiled. slowly. like it surprised even him. 

“you know,” he said, “i think i just fell in love.” 

you blinked. “excuse me?” 

“yup.” he sat up, brushing hair out of his eyes. “madly. deeply. hopelessly. tragically. you, me, arcades, forever.” 

you stared. “are you okay?” 

“no.” he pointed at his chest. “you danced and now my heart does that anime sparkle thing.” 

“you mean palpitations?” 

“romantic ones.” 

you laughed. he leaned back on his elbows, looking smug again, but this time it was softer. fonder. 

“listen,” he said. “if we don’t get married and form an elite dance crime-fighting duo, i’ll consider this the biggest missed opportunity of my life.” 

you tilted your head. “you always flirt with people you tie with?” 

“not at all ma’am. only you.” 

“… so you want my number.” 

“yes. and also a strawberry sundae. but mostly your number.” 

you dragged it out, just to be cruel. “you’ll have to promise not to cry when i beat you again next week.” 

he leaned in. dangerously close. eyes gleaming. “only if you promise to wipe my tears with a plushie i win for you.” 

you bit your lip to hide the smile. “deal.” 

you gave him your number. he saved it under “dancefloor soulmate <3.” 

and that was how you accidentally, casually, and entirely iconically made dante fall in love with you in the middle of an arcade. 

the machine (and dante) never stood a chance. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢